The Shifter Read online

  Aylin was there, dressed in blue with long feathers dangling off her skirt and sleeves. Her hair was piled on her head, with a few long strands left free to blow in the wind as she twirled and danced.

  She smiled as I approached. “Morning.”

  “Tali’s missing.” Tears blinded me, and I wiped them away.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I went to see her, but she wasn’t there. Enzie said she was gone, and no one would say where.” I kept wiping my eyes, but there were too many tears. And now my nose was running.

  “Maybe she went on a heal call?”

  “No, something bad is going on. Have you seen a fancy man in yellow and green silk here today? He was here yesterday, over by the pain merchant’s shop. Did you see him?”

  Aylin blinked at me, her dark red lips a wide circle of confusion. “A what?”

  I told her about the fancy man and all his watching. About the missing apprentices, Tali’s fear over Vada, and the Duke’s assassins. It sounded crazy, but Aylin had lived through it all before, just as I had.

  She rubbed one of the two beaded bracelets she always wore. “Nya, you have to be careful. People don’t follow other people for fun.”

  “I know that, but I have to find him.”

  “No you don’t. You have to make sure he doesn’t find you.” She hugged herself and glanced up and down the street. “You have no idea what he wants.”

  “He wants Healers.”

  “Then why is he following you?”

  I bit my tongue. I’d all but admitted I was a Taker, though with luck, Aylin wouldn’t realize what my slip really meant.

  “Because of Tali,” I said. “He knows I have access to Healers. He’s seen me with them.”

  “But he can get all the Healers he wants at the League. There’s no reason for him to—”

  “Aylin, I don’t know!” I said, probably more harshly than I should have. I took a deep breath. “All I know is that there’s a good chance he knows where Tali is. He has to tell me. I’ll force him if I have to.”

  “If he’s a tracker, you can’t force him to do anything.”

  But I could. I snapped my mouth shut before something else stupid spilled out. “I have to find her, Aylin.”

  She twirled a loose strand of hair and stared upward, brows wrinkled, lips mashed. “Are you sure she isn’t on a heal call?”

  “They would have told Enzie that.”

  “Not if they didn’t want anyone to know. Maybe she had to go heal someone important, or in secret—like the Governor-General.”

  “He has his own Healers from Baseer. And what about the other missing apprentices?”

  “Maybe they didn’t tell her. Maybe it’s all secret.”

  “Three maybes don’t sound like truth to me.”

  She put her hands on my shoulders. “Don’t panic—let me ask around and see what I can find out. Maybe you’re worrying for nothing.”

  “That’s four.”

  “Stop that. None of this makes any sense, so we’re missing something. I know a guard at the League. Maybe he knows something.” She stabbed one finger in front of my nose before I could say “five.” “He’ll be able to get me inside either way, and I can ask around.”

  “Won’t you lose your job if you leave?” Tough as it was for me to find work, Aylin would have it tougher. People didn’t like any Gevegian who worked for a Baseeri, and even worse, the owner of the show house was the Governor-General’s brother. Aylin pretended not to care, but I saw the hurt look in her eyes when folks called her names. Probably wouldn’t be so bad if they’d let her work inside, where only Baseeri would see her, even if Aylin did insist she was a lot safer outside.

  “I’ll be fine. My lunch break is coming up. I can go early.”

  “Be careful.”

  “I’ll be okay.” She hugged me, and I caught a whiff of jasmine. “It’s you who needs to be careful. Whoever this man following you is, he’s up to no good, so stay hidden.”

  “But I need to talk to him.”

  “Not alone. Wait for me to get back, and we’ll look for him together.” She grabbed my face in both hands. They trembled against my cheeks. “Promise me, Nya? Promise me you’ll stay out of sight?”

  I nodded.

  “Wait for me in the Sanctuary on Beacon Walk. You should be safe there.”

  I doubted it, but it gave me more time in the open to spot my fancy men.

  No one had jumped out at me by the time I reached the Sanctuary. I cast one last look around before slipping inside. My footsteps echoed in the marble hall, forcing me to an embarrassed tiptoe. The low ceiling loomed above me, reminding me to show proper respect to the Seven Sisters. The builders had sure done their job, ’cause by the time the hall opened into the domed centrum, I wouldn’t have spoken above a whisper if the room were on fire.

  I crossed the geometric flower gracing the middle of the room—six overlapping circles centered under a seventh. The glazed tiles sparkled even in the weak light from the arched windows. Curved wooden benches radiated outward, two rows facing each of seven alcoves, in which statues of the Seven Sisters stood, staring with blank eyes.

  On the left, Saint Moed had her twin swords crossed above her head, though she’d done nothing to defend Geveg against the Duke when we needed her. Beside her, Saint Vergeef had one hand in a basket of pears, the other outstretched in offering. Cruel when so many went hungry. Saint Erlice had the smug look of one who never told a lie, not even to make someone feel better.

  The right side wasn’t any better. Saint Vertroue planted her staff in the marble block at her feet, both hands gripping it and daring anyone to try to get past her. So much for her fortitude. Many had passed her, and she’d never once pulled her staff from the stone to stop them. Saint Gedu patiently leaned against her alcove, clearly in no hurry to save anybody from anything. Saint Malwe smiled modestly, lids and eyes cast down as if embarrassed to have folks worshipping at her feet.

  In the center of the six was Saint Saea, hands open as if apologizing. The mother of mercy, the grannyma of “sorry it had to turn out this way,” the one who made you think that this time it would be different.

  Saints and sinners, this was the creepiest place in Geveg. All those blank eyes watching and judging you, even though they did nothing when people needed help. I couldn’t help but wonder what they saw in me.

  I grabbed a seat by Saint Saea between an old man with far too much hair in his ears and a box of water-soaked prayer books. Shame, ’cause I could have used a prayer.

  So I made one up.

  Please let Tali be okay. Please let her be off at a heal call, standing in the bedroom of a snooty Baseeri aristocrat who thinks he’s too good to go to the League. Please let me be wrong about the fancy men.

  Uneven footsteps echoed behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder. No fancy men, just a bent and twisted woman who had no reason to think the Saints cared. Another dumb soul like me, hoping for answers. If she could remember her prayers, maybe she’d find some. I closed my eyes and the murmured words of others drifted to me, gentle reminders of what I used to say when I was small, and Tali smaller.

  Saint Saea, Sister of Compassion, hear my prayer.

  Nothing else came. I sighed and prayed from the heart.

  Bless me with the wisdom to find Tali. Guide me to a fancy man who…who knows what I need to know. Give me the strength to choke it out of him if I have to.

  I winced. Maybe I should have asked Saint Moed that part.

  The polished white face of Saint Saea kept staring over my head, making sure no one walked into the room too loud. Footsteps rose, then fell quiet again.

  And still she stared.

  “You never listen,” I mumbled, sliding forward to kick the statue where her shins would have been. It left a muddy green-gray smear on her marble robe.

  The hairy old man harrumphed at me and scooted farther down the bench.

  I hung my head, hands in my tangled ha
ir. Why had I let Aylin go to the League? She wasn’t going to find out anything Enzie hadn’t, and she might get into trouble herself. If no one outside the League noticed missing apprentices, they sure wouldn’t notice if one dancer vanished.

  My guts said only one person could tell me where Tali was, and if I couldn’t find that yellow-green sneak, then I’d make sure he found me. He’d seen me near Danello’s home, Aylin’s corner, and the boardinghouse. I’d keep making circles between them until he showed his blank-as-a-Saint’s face, then confront him. Demand to know where Tali was. Make him take me to her.

  More footsteps tap-tap-tapping. And tapping…and tapping…like everyone in the room had suddenly up and left.

  I lifted my head and glared at Saint Saea, who was doing a piss-poor job keeping her Sanctuary quiet.

  Someone sat down on the bench next to me. Yellow and green flickered at the edge of my vision.

  Saints and sinners, she did listen!

  It was the second fancy man, the one from last night. This close he was even fancier, his black hair stark against the colorful silk. Pressed silk too, and not a speck on it, despite the rain and muddy puddles.

  “Are you Merlaina?” he asked.

  For a moment I blinked, confused. Oh! Merlaina was the name I had given the Elder yesterday morning. So even though they’d found me, they didn’t know who I really was. I lunged, muscles screaming protest, and grabbed a handful of perfect silk.

  I shoved him down on the bench. “Where’s my sister?”

  “What? I don’t know—get off me.”

  Shocked gasps and worried cries drowned out the echoing footsteps as the few remaining folks ran from our scuffle. I had to threaten quick. Somebody was bound to get their wits back and go find a patrol.

  “Tell me where she is!”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shoved back, lifting me off the bench like a sack of coffee beans. He grabbed both my arms tight, and my eyes watered. “Settle down, girl.”

  He loosened his hold on my arms. I twisted and gripped his now-mussed silk shirt. He grabbed my wrists this time, but I’d worked two fingers under his sleeve and felt flesh beneath. “Tell me where she is or else.”

  He paused for a heartbeat, then glanced upward and sighed. “Stop being difficult and come with—aarrhhcck!” he cried, collapsing as I pushed the last of my pain into him. He released me and grabbed his thigh.

  “Where is she?”

  I heard chuckling coming from the entrance. I snapped my head around as Fancy Man One strolled in. He wore red today. No wonder I couldn’t find him. “Take it easy, Merlaina,” he said, keeping a row of benches between us.

  I backed away and bumped into Saint Saea. Her outstretched hands fit my shoulders perfectly.

  “You’re safe—you don’t have to run.”

  As if I could run anywhere with a Saint holding me down. “Where’s my sister?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Liar!”

  Fancy Man Two groaned and sat up, his face pale and sweaty from the pain. “Did you see what that ’Veg did to me?”

  “Quiet, Morell. I said she was dangerous.” Fancy Man One smiled, but I couldn’t tell if it meant humor or disdain.

  “You’re an ass, Jeatar.”

  Fancy Man One laughed, but at least now I had both their names. In the bedtime stories Mama used to read us, names gave you power over things. I could sure use a little of that.

  “We have no interest in your sister,” Jeatar said. “Just you.”

  My hot anger chilled. If they didn’t have Tali, then who did?

  “Now come along quietly before the patrol arrives and they find out what you can do. I’m sure both the Governor-General and the League would be very interested.”

  It could have been an empty threat, but it didn’t seem wise to test Morell, even if he was having a hard time getting to his feet.

  Despite my trembling, I elbowed Saint Saea in her cold marble gut. It was stupid, but somehow this felt like it was all her fault.

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  SIX

  We left the Sanctuary and turned right, toward one of the richer neighborhoods. The closer we got, the more dark-haired people we passed, and more than a few shot a glare my way. Jeatar kept a hand on my upper arm, gripping it tight, but not enough to hurt, while Morell limped close by without touching me. Was this what had happened to Tali? Had they grabbed her on the way home from the gardens and threatened her with exposing me? A scream quivered in my throat, but Morell looked like he might welcome a reason to shut me up with a smack or two.

  “Where are you taking me?” I glanced around, but no one would meet my eyes.

  “My employer is interested in meeting you.”

  “Is he with the Duke or the League?”

  Jeatar frowned and shot me an odd look but didn’t answer.

  “Does he have my sister?”

  Jeatar sighed, and for a second I thought I saw pity there. “We have nothing to do with your sister. We simply have a job opportunity you might be interested in.”

  If they didn’t have Tali, then I didn’t need to keep gulping down my fear and playing along. Besides, this looked less like a job offer and more like a kidnapping. I stopped walking, tugging him to a halt. “So what’s the job?”

  “Sorry, but I’m under strict instructions to bring you in first.”

  “What if I don’t want to go?”

  “Then we’ll throw a sack over your head and drag you,” Morell snarled into my ear. He was sweating heavily now, and the silk around his collar was dark and damp.

  I kicked him, jerking my arm out of Jeatar’s grasp. Morell swung a fist at my head. I stumbled back, slipping on the wet street and landing on my butt. A few folks turned; one even laughed.

  “Help!” I called. The ones who’d looked over glanced away fast. I scrambled to my feet, legs sliding every which way like a newborn lamb’s.

  Jeatar picked me up, pinning my arms to my sides. He shook me once, hard, and my head snapped back. “Settle down,” he whispered harshly. “I’m sorry, but it’s my job to bring you in, and it will reflect poorly on me if I don’t. You’re not in any danger, but it’s important that we not discuss the details in public.”

  For all his reassurances, there was only one job I knew of that started with a kidnapping, but I’d be useless healing soldiers in Verlatta. It would, however, get me closer to Tali if they did have her.

  Jeatar continued. “I’d apologize for my colleague, but he’s not my responsibility.”

  Apologies? Trackers were never polite, never protective, and they didn’t whisper reassurances, scary as those reassurances were. Maybe this wasn’t about Tali, or the League, or anything I’d considered since I’d first seen him.

  “You’re not a tracker, are you?” I said low so Morell wouldn’t hear.

  Something flickered in his blue eyes, but I couldn’t quite catch it. “No, Merlaina, I’m not.”

  I hesitated over the odd way he said my “name,” as if he knew it wasn’t mine. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Would you like to eat today?”

  I blinked. It was an obvious distraction, but a good one.

  “Maybe find out something about your sister?”

  “Yes.”

  He smiled, and it almost looked trustworthy. “Then come with me and hear what my employer has to say. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “Except you’re not asking at all.”

  Two merchants deep in conversation nearly bumped into us. They looked up, mouths open, the beginnings of “pardon me” already coming out, then snapped them shut and hurried past, peeking back over their shoulders at Jeatar.

  They recognized him! Who did he work for? The Governor-General maybe?

  “Coming, Merlaina?”

  Could I trust him? Did I even have a choice? If I said no, he’d drag me there. But if I could find out something about where Tali might be, it was worth the risk.

&n
bsp; I swallowed and nodded. We walked, his hand on me like a clamp, his manner as cool as a lake stone. I hadn’t been this scared since the war, though my guts said I was in more danger now.

  Maybe they were mercenaries. Lots had come at the end of the war, some for fighting and others offering paid protection to folks trying to escape. Some had stayed, protecting the Baseeri from those who’d fought even after the rest surrendered. But no one tried to fight anymore. It was too hard to rally folks when they were more worried about food than freedom.

  “Are you mercenaries?”

  He raised an eyebrow. No denials though. Morell kept glaring and limping, pale as milk now.

  We turned down Hanks-Baron Street and stopped in front of a stone building with a high wall around it. The kind of wall you built when you wanted to protect what was inside. My guess was it was something other than the fruit trees sticking out over the top.

  Jeatar opened the gate and extended his arm. “After you.”

  He let go of me and for a heartbeat I considered running, but if this really was about a job and they could also help me find Tali, then I had to give them a chance. I glanced at Morell, who looked minutes away from passing out. Maybe I could sneak some pain back to use if I needed to make a fast getaway. I edged closer.

  “I wouldn’t.” Jeatar frowned and nudged me inside a medium-sized room with shelves along two sides, like a shop.

  Spices and a bitter metallic odor hit me—raw pynvium? Old, though. The smell stayed in my nose, but it didn’t coat the back of my mouth like ore right from the ground always had. Objects of various sizes lined the shelves: silverware, cubes, thin rods, balls, figurines, wind chimes. Most were painted, but some had that distinctive blue I’d so recently had waved in my face. Expensive trinkets full of someone’s pain, ready to be enchanted to trigger and flash.

  My shiverfeet returned. “You’re pain merchants.” New ones too, or I would have recognized the shop.

  “We work for a pain merchant, though I can’t say how much longer Morell will.”