goal.”
“The destruction of the Abomination.”
“Correct.” He reached into his pocket. “Oh, and you may find this useful.” He opened his hand.
My stomach wrapped itself into a tight knot. Nestled in his pudgy palm was a silver necklace. The match to the ring I was carrying in my own pocket.
The necklace Lorelei had been wearing when she was killed.
“Thanks,” I said, forcing my voice to remain calm as I plucked it out of his hand. If the Modhri was looking for a reaction from me, he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction.
“You’re welcome.” He turned his head to look behind us.
And as he did so, the skin of his face tightened up again out of its sag. “Sorry,” Braithewick said, his voice back to normal. “Sorry. Zoned out on you there for a minute.”
“That’s okay,” I murmured, slipping the necklace into my pocket. “I wasn’t saying anything important.”
“At any rate, as I was starting to say, dealing with the Spiders can take a little professional finesse,” he said briskly. “I was thinking that it might take some time and—ah; your luggage.”
The Customs official came into sight, looking like a dit rec comedy bellhop as he struggled with two people’s worth of travel bags. “I took the liberty of suggesting to him that it would look better if you had your bags with you,” Braithewick explained, a slight frown creasing his forehead.
To me, that made no sense whatsoever. Judging by Braithewick’s frown, it didn’t make any sense to him, either. I thought about calling him on it, decided I’d heard enough Modhran pretzel logic for one day, and merely switched on my leash control. Bayta did the same, and as the clerk thankfully lowered the bags to the floor they rolled over to us. “There you go,” the clerk said, his own forehead a little furrowed. “Have a good trip.”
He turned and walked back around the curve and out of sight. “Shall we?” Braithewick asked, gesturing ahead.
“Certainly,” I said. “After you.”
We reached the Tube without incident and collected our clothing bags from the Spiders. We couldn’t get the lockbox, of course—no weapons allowed in the Tube, and all that—but the stationmaster confirmed that it would be put aboard our next train.
“Well, that went well,” Bayta commented evenly as we stood together watching the laser light show playing between our incoming train and the Coreline that ran down the center of the Tube. “Tell me again what this stop at Yandro was supposed to accomplish?”
“Anyone ever tell you that sarcasm ill befits you?” I countered.
“I was just wondering,” she murmured. “I was also thinking that if the Modhri hadn’t been alerted before to what we were up to, he certainly is now.”
“No, all that he knows is that we’re on the move,” I corrected. “But he knew that way back in New York, when those walkers followed me home from the precinct house. Maybe he knew it even sooner, when he saw Lorelei leave my apartment. But none of that means he actually knows what we’re up to.”
“He will soon,” Bayta said, an edge creeping to her voice. Clearly, she was blaming me for this fiasco. “Now, instead of us just slipping away quietly, we’ll have an entire Quadrail’s worth of walkers watching.”
“We’d probably have had that anyway,” I pointed out, putting a bit of an edge in my voice, as well. It wasn’t my fault my gambit hadn’t worked. “In case you hadn’t noticed, you and I are living in a fishbowl these days.”
Bayta sighed. “I know,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I said, glancing back over my shoulder. Braithewick was standing well back from our platform, giving us at least the illusion of privacy. “Don’t worry. Whatever he’s got up his sleeve, we’ll be ready for him.”
The train pulled up beside us and came to the usual brake-squealing stop.
And I was treated to the most extraordinary sight I had ever seen.
The
“The destruction of the Abomination.”
“Correct.” He reached into his pocket. “Oh, and you may find this useful.” He opened his hand.
My stomach wrapped itself into a tight knot. Nestled in his pudgy palm was a silver necklace. The match to the ring I was carrying in my own pocket.
The necklace Lorelei had been wearing when she was killed.
“Thanks,” I said, forcing my voice to remain calm as I plucked it out of his hand. If the Modhri was looking for a reaction from me, he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction.
“You’re welcome.” He turned his head to look behind us.
And as he did so, the skin of his face tightened up again out of its sag. “Sorry,” Braithewick said, his voice back to normal. “Sorry. Zoned out on you there for a minute.”
“That’s okay,” I murmured, slipping the necklace into my pocket. “I wasn’t saying anything important.”
“At any rate, as I was starting to say, dealing with the Spiders can take a little professional finesse,” he said briskly. “I was thinking that it might take some time and—ah; your luggage.”
The Customs official came into sight, looking like a dit rec comedy bellhop as he struggled with two people’s worth of travel bags. “I took the liberty of suggesting to him that it would look better if you had your bags with you,” Braithewick explained, a slight frown creasing his forehead.
To me, that made no sense whatsoever. Judging by Braithewick’s frown, it didn’t make any sense to him, either. I thought about calling him on it, decided I’d heard enough Modhran pretzel logic for one day, and merely switched on my leash control. Bayta did the same, and as the clerk thankfully lowered the bags to the floor they rolled over to us. “There you go,” the clerk said, his own forehead a little furrowed. “Have a good trip.”
He turned and walked back around the curve and out of sight. “Shall we?” Braithewick asked, gesturing ahead.
“Certainly,” I said. “After you.”
We reached the Tube without incident and collected our clothing bags from the Spiders. We couldn’t get the lockbox, of course—no weapons allowed in the Tube, and all that—but the stationmaster confirmed that it would be put aboard our next train.
“Well, that went well,” Bayta commented evenly as we stood together watching the laser light show playing between our incoming train and the Coreline that ran down the center of the Tube. “Tell me again what this stop at Yandro was supposed to accomplish?”
“Anyone ever tell you that sarcasm ill befits you?” I countered.
“I was just wondering,” she murmured. “I was also thinking that if the Modhri hadn’t been alerted before to what we were up to, he certainly is now.”
“No, all that he knows is that we’re on the move,” I corrected. “But he knew that way back in New York, when those walkers followed me home from the precinct house. Maybe he knew it even sooner, when he saw Lorelei leave my apartment. But none of that means he actually knows what we’re up to.”
“He will soon,” Bayta said, an edge creeping to her voice. Clearly, she was blaming me for this fiasco. “Now, instead of us just slipping away quietly, we’ll have an entire Quadrail’s worth of walkers watching.”
“We’d probably have had that anyway,” I pointed out, putting a bit of an edge in my voice, as well. It wasn’t my fault my gambit hadn’t worked. “In case you hadn’t noticed, you and I are living in a fishbowl these days.”
Bayta sighed. “I know,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I said, glancing back over my shoulder. Braithewick was standing well back from our platform, giving us at least the illusion of privacy. “Don’t worry. Whatever he’s got up his sleeve, we’ll be ready for him.”
The train pulled up beside us and came to the usual brake-squealing stop.
And I was treated to the most extraordinary sight I had ever seen.
The
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