Master and Apprentice (6 page)

I didn’t dare look behind us. The two remaining thugs probably couldn’t match Ian’s speed, but I didn’t want to find out I was wrong.

We finally reached the border of the thick forest I’d seen from the air. Ian raced into the fold without hesitation. His breathing came hard and fast under me, the human equivalent of an asthma attack. The third time he almost bashed into a tree, I decided we’d put enough distance between us and them—whether he liked it or not.

“Stop. We’re clear now.”

If he heard me, he showed no sign of slowing down.

“Damn it, Ian, stop! I can’t hold on anymore.”

A prolonged growl vibrated through him, but his ground-eating pace geared down to a jog, then a lope. Finally, he came to rest at the edge of a needle-strewn clearing and offered an impatient snort. I let go, thumped to the ground, and arched up with a yelp when my back collided with a softball-size rock concealed under the forest carpet. I spit out a curse and curled on my side, hoping nature didn’t have any more surprises for me. Why couldn’t any of the Morai hole up in a mall or something?

“Are you injured?”

I flopped faceup and glared at Ian, who’d returned to his natural state of asshole. “Are you stupid?”

“Where?”

“Leg, ribs, head, back. Pick a body part. It’s probably broken.”

Ian frowned. He knelt next to me, one hand hovering over the base of my throat like a priest about to push a baptism candidate underwater. “I’ve not much power left, but I may be able to heal your leg. Then, at least, you can walk.”

“Terrific.” I really looked forward to dragging through miles of woods with shattered ribs and a lump on my head the size of a small city. I exhaled, closed my eyes, and waited. The sharpest pain dissipated from my leg, but a bone-deep ache remained.

Ian gasped. I glanced at him. His skin had gone a ghostly sweat-slicked gray, and his eyes fluttered back in his head. “I cannot continue,” he whispered. “My apologies, thief.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Think I can walk.” Concern and urgency kicked my adrenaline into overdrive. I pushed up on my
elbows, and finally noticed that Ian’s neck and chest beneath the open vest he wore were splashed with blood. “What the hell happened? I thought transformation healed you.”

He wiped absently at the mess. “It is not mine.”

“Oh.” An image of dead, mutilated Davie seared my brain. With it came the certainty that we needed to move before his brothers tried to claim their revenge. I had to assume Kit was related. “Any idea who those guys are? Because they can’t be djinn,” I said as I hauled myself off the ground.

Ian didn’t answer for way too long. At last, he stood and stared back toward the edge of the woods. “Yes.”

I waited. No explanation arrived. “Care to share with me?”

“They are …” He looked at me with unease stamped on his features. “Descendants. Like you.”

“Excuse me?” The Morai had spent the last four hundred years hunting down and killing every last one of Ian’s descendants. I’d been informed that my son and I were the sole survivors. And all djinn were magically infertile in the human realm—except for Ian, who had a little help from his wife. “You’re telling me those bastards are related to you?”

Ian shook his head. “They are Morai.”

“No.” My automatic denial didn’t stop the horror of acceptance that lodged in my chest. Impossible as it was, nothing else made sense. “Uh-uh. The Morai can’t breed. If they could, they would’ve created an army by now. Take over the world, reign of terror and age of darkness, shit like that. Besides, they just looked like regular humans. How could you know they’re Morai?”

The minute I asked, I decided against wanting to know. He told me anyway.

“I have tasted Morai blood before.” His gaze flicked down to his gore-streaked torso. “However, they are … wrong. Tainted. I cannot determine why at the moment.”

“Maybe they’re inbred,” I muttered. From what I’d heard, the Morai had a tendency to breed like rabbits back home just to increase their numbers—and any fertile female had been fair game, whether she liked it or not. Especially since female djinn could reproduce only once every three hundred years.

A frown creased Ian’s forehead. “Perhaps,” he said, sounding less than convinced. “We must move. They may attempt to give chase.”

“Ya think?”

He shot me a sharp look. I decided to shut up.

We headed farther into the woods, me limping, him ambling like a reluctant zombie. I tried to listen for signs of pursuit, but our loud, clumsy progress drowned out any chance of staying undetected. I tried to guess how far it’d be to the town on the other side. My estimate wasn’t encouraging. This stretch of trees had looked at least ten times as big as the cluster of buildings beyond. They’d catch up to us in no time.

At least Ian didn’t have his tether on him, so they couldn’t kill him right away. I enjoyed no such guarantees for survival.

I figured we must’ve walked halfway to China, but the damned forest refused to end. Still no sign of our pursuers who couldn’t possibly exist. I was dying to know how the Morai had managed to produce descendants, since I only had Ian’s word that they were sterile—and he’d lied to me before. Too many times to count. But I didn’t think he had a clue this time. He’d seemed just as stunned as me.

We’d have to find someone who did know. Eventually. When we weren’t limping for our lives.

I stared ahead at the ocean of nature and tried willing it to become civilization. Nature ignored me. But I did glimpse something in the distance that probably shouldn’t have been
in the woods. I nudged Ian and pointed. “Is that a pay phone mounted on a tree?”

Ian followed my gesture. “It appears to be.”

“Great. Maybe we can call for a cab.”

“You are joking.” Ian glanced at me. “Aren’t you?”

“Mostly.” I moved toward the thing and wondered if it was somehow related to the Hillbilly Brothers back there. But I doubted it. The idea of a booby-trapped pay phone was a stretch even for the Morai. Besides, they hadn’t expected to find us out here. They were looking for their recently exploded kin.

The metal case was a scratch-and-dent model, worn by time and what looked like the claws of large animals. The peeling, unidentifiable remains of a phone company logo clung to the outside. Inside, there was no phone, only a sturdy plastic utility box, held shut with a thick and rusted steel padlock.

The presence of this contraption in the middle of a wild, mountainous forest unsettled me. It was like digging up a dinosaur skeleton and finding a Rolex on its wrist.

Curiosity overcame my misgivings. I’d have no problem picking the lock. Despite my retirement from thieving, I’d kept my legally questionable skills as sharp as possible. Never knew when it would come in handy to open a lock, or hot-wire a car, or disable an alarm. I patted my pockets for a tool.

“Donatti.”

Warning edged Ian’s voice. I waved a hand in his general direction. “Know what I’m doing,” I muttered. “Don’t worry. I won’t blow us up.”

“Damn you, thief.
Look.
”

I looked. At first I couldn’t tell what his problem was. Finally I realized that the strip of green about a hundred feet ahead wasn’t more trees. It was a moss-covered stone wall, and
beyond it stood a house. Not a rustic cabin, but a sturdy and sizable stone structure. Practically a castle. And from the soft light glowing in two of the upper windows, it appeared to be currently inhabited.

“Crud.” I shifted reflexively to invisible, noting that even that simple trick caused more pain than it should have. I still hadn’t recovered from my aborted midair braking. “They couldn’t have passed us,” I said. “Think there’s more of them?”

“One might presume the possibility.” Ian had disappeared too. His voice came from directly behind me. “We should investigate the situation.”

I shook my head, forgetting that he couldn’t see the motion. “You’re crazy. We’re both tapped. If there’s anybody in there with more power than a twenty-watt lightbulb, we’re dead. What if their leader is here—Val, or whatever his name was?”

“That is what I am hoping to find.”

“No. Forget it, Ian.” Again, I flashed back to the cave-dwelling Morai’s warning:
Die in service to your master’s madness.
Not going to happen. “I’m human, remember? You’re safe as long as they can’t get your tether. I’m not.”

Ian sighed. “I am not fool enough to take on another djinn at this point. I simply want to ascertain whether this Val is here, so we can return in the future.”

“What if we get caught?”

“We will not.”

“And you’re so sure about this because … ?”

There was a long pause before he said, “Are you not a professional thief ?”

“No, I am not,” I drawled. “I’m retired.”

“So you are afraid, then.”

“Don’t do that.” He was getting to me again, the bastard.

Impugning what little sense of honor I had left. “Look, we know where the place is. More or less. Can’t we just go home and have Akila scry the place, find out whether there’s a Morai in there?”

“Why should I subject her to the effort when we are already here?” I could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Once we are inside the structure, I will be able to sense another djinn, if there is one present. And then we will leave.”

I groaned. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. I can’t rescue you this time.”

“Agreed.” His tone implied exactly what I could do with the idea that he’d need rescuing.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

I turned and started toward the wall. When Ian didn’t seem to be moving, I said, “Are you coming, or is this supposed to be a solo venture?”

“Yes.” Pine needles crackled beneath his unseen feet. “And we had better move quickly.”

“Why?”

“They are coming back.”

I didn’t need to ask who
they
were.

W
e stopped when we reached the stone wall—at least, I did. I hoped Ian hadn’t just charged on ahead. “You still here?” I half-whispered.

“No. I have gone to Starbucks.”

“Now’s a great time to develop sarcasm,” I shot back. “Any idea how close they are?”

“Close enough.”

“Well, that’s helpful.” I looked over the grounds for any sign of movement, and saw none. “We need a plan. We won’t be able to talk to each other in there. So … how long, and where are we going to meet?”

“Fifteen minutes. And there, by that statue.”

“What statue?”

“To your right.”

I looked. At the far corner of the wall stood St. Jude, patron saint of lost causes. I knew because this guy had been a big deal at the Catholic orphanage where I spent most of my childhood. That’s what we all were, lost causes—especially me, as the nuns reminded me daily. I had to wonder why a bunch of half-Morai thugs would want St. Jude hanging around.

Movement near the building caught my eye. A man in a dusky black robe emerged from a stand of trees at the corner of the walled property and headed for the building. Two more followed, dressed in the same fashion. Each of them sported a bowl haircut and a rope belt. I almost laughed. “Ian, I don’t think we’re going to find any evil djinn in here. It’s a monastery.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Because of the monks.”

It took him a minute to see what I meant. When he did, he made an agitated sound and said, “We should still investigate. This could be a … blanket.”

“A blanket.” I practically had to bite my tongue. “You mean a cover?”

“Whatever you call it. I have no trouble believing those snakes would feign human purity to hide themselves, if they are breeding.”

“Uh-huh. So, even though the rest of them go around flaunting their fangs and scales, this one might be posing as a monk.”

“Yes.”

“Right. And I’m Mary Poppins.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind.” If it’d get Ian to lay off the witch hunt long enough for us to make it home for a few days, I’d gladly spend a quarter hour poking around a monastery. Maybe the half-breeds on our trail would bypass this place and we’d lose them. “Fifteen minutes, at the statue. You want upstairs or down?”

“Up.”

“It’s yours. See you in fifteen.”

I clambered over the wall. Behind me, I heard Ian do the same, and then his footfalls picked up their pace and passed me. He was practically running for the place. I hoped that didn’t
mean he’d sensed our pursuers closing in and had neglected to mention it to me.

Before I made half the distance to the monastery proper, a figure edged out from the shadows of an alcoved back door. Another monk, this one with shaggy blond hair and wearing a black robe. A beaded crucifix pendant hung around his neck—and his cane and dark glasses said I didn’t have to worry about whether or not I was visible.

Still, being blind didn’t mean he was deaf. I tried to walk quieter.

“Hello?” the blind monk called softly. His head turned in my direction. “Brother Justin? I thought you were working in the front gardens today. Is everything okay?”

I froze, hoping the monk would leave if he didn’t hear anything else. He stayed put. After a few minutes, I started walking again. His demeanor shifted to wariness with my first step. “Who’s there?” he said—not so softly this time.

Damn. I couldn’t stand out here all day playing freeze tag with this guy. While I debated the merits of making a run for the other side of the building, the sound of footsteps infiltrated the silence. They weren’t mine, or the monk’s. The sounds were behind me. And they were getting closer.

I glanced back, expecting to see nothing. My expectations were disappointed. Lynus and Kit strode across the cleared ground, visible as billboards. I filed a mental note to break Ian’s teeth for not telling me how close they were—if I lived that long. At least I had some mojo back. Still, I didn’t dare move. I had to hope they wouldn’t be able to find me, because I only knew spells that destroyed tethers, not humans, and I’d already thrown away my weapon.

But the half-breeds headed straight for the blind monk. “Hey. Old man,” Lynus called as they neared him. “We’re
looking for a coupla dead men walking. They come through here?”