Trickster

felt her knees go slightly weak. Definitely time to head home for a drink.

As she strode swiftly toward the mall exit to find a taxi, it occurred to her that she should technically turn in her computer key and get fitted for a new one. After all, it had been out of her sight for quite a while. Then she shook her head. No, the paperwork would be immense, and she certainly didn't feel like explaining why she needed a new key. Besides, what would a couple of low-grade rent-a-cops have done with her key for the few moments it had lain on the counter?

After Rafille had left, Harenn emerged from a fitting room and strode into the main part of the empty store. Lucia popped up from behind the counter like a jack-in-the-box. Harenn smiled.

'Did you get it?' Kendi asked.

Lucia held up the copycat in one scarred hand. The lights were flashing green. 'I got it. But I have to say that my heart about stopped when she asked what was behind the counter.'

'You and me both,' Gretchen muttered.

'Did everything go well?' Harenn asked. 'I could not hear everything.'

'It all went perfectly,' Father Kendi grinned. 'Good work, Harenn. Great plan on short notice.'

'Do you think she suspected anything when you took her into an empty store instead of a security office?' Harenn asked.

'Are you kidding?' Gretchen scoffed. 'She almost wet her pants when we grabbed her out there.'

'Best of all, we keep getting paid.' Kendi held up the wad of cash. 'Between her and Elena Papagos-Faye, we won't need to dip into the kitty for a month.'

Harenn nodded in satisfaction. 'They are paying for their own demise.'

'All right,' Lucia said, 'we have keys and prints for Security, Research, and Information Services. Just one left to go.'

'Edsard Roon himself,' Kendi said.

Ben Rymar howled like a wild thing. Storm clouds swirled in the sky above him and a few drops of rain spattered the dust at his feet. In front of him, the crude statue of Padric Sufur stared impassively at nothing. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Ben howled again and raised a fist. Lightning cracked down from the clouds and smashed into the statue. It exploded, sending stone fragments whizzing in all directions. The thunderclap smashed Ben's very bones. He flung himself flat on the ground, arms wrapped around his head. Shards rained down all around him and few stung the backs of his hands. After a moment, the rain of stone stopped. Ben uncurled himself and sat up. Where the statue had been stood a charred, blackened hole. Ben sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

'Still pissed at him, huh?'

Ben, still seated, twisted around. Sejal was standing behind him, his strangely blue eyes looking both amused and concerned.

'I didn't even feel you coming,' Ben said, surprised.

'You were busy, and you're still new at this,' Sejal said. 'Besides, I didn't want to interrupt, so I kept quiet.'

'You saw what I was doing?'

Sejal spread his hands. 'I'm no fan of Padric Sufur, either. Looks like your interest in him is more personal, though.'

'I hate him,' Ben growled. 'Mom died because of him.'

Sejal nodded. 'Lots of people's moms-and dads-died because of him. I don't know how he can live with himself.'

Ben worked his jaw for a moment in an attempt to keep fresh grief from running down his face. It still hurt, no matter how many statues he destroyed. Mom was dead, gone forever. It had happened over six months ago, and it still hurt as if it had been last week. He remembered finding her body, shattered and broken, at the base of the talltree. He could still feel her ribs grate and shift beneath his hands as he attempted CPR, even though she was already growing cold. And it was all because of Padric Sufur. Whenever he thought too much about it, the rage overtook him, burned with terrible intensity, and Ben knew that if he ever met Padric Sufur face-to-face, he would kill the man without a moment's hesitation. But Ben kept most of it to himself. Some things were too raw to share, not even with Kendi. Kendi probably had some idea that Ben's grief was far from abated-Kendi's own pain was still an ongoing concern-but Ben doubted he knew just how deep it still ran.

Kendi. The con job. And Sejal was here. An idea popped into Ben's head.

'Sejal,' he asked urgently, 'where exactly are you these days?'

Sejal shrugged. 'Around. Why?'

'We could really use your help. You can still reach through the Dream and possess non-Silent in the solid world, right?'

'Not as easily as I used to, but yeah.' Sejal's tone was wary. 'And before you ask, no, I can't pull people who've lost their Silence into the Dream. I've already tried.'

'That's not what I was getting at,' Ben said. 'I meant that you could help us. God, with you on the team, we could get Kendi's brother and sister out of the Collection in ten minutes. All you'd have to do is possess the people on the project, and Martina and Utang could walk right out. How fast can you get to SA Station? Should we come and get you?'

Sejal shifted uncomfortably. 'I'm not exactly able to go anywhere right now, Ben.'

'What? Why not?'

'I'm sort of busy. I just popped into the Dream to take care of some stuff and I noticed you were in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd just say hello. I can't really go anywhere right now.'

'But-'

'I'm sorry, Ben. Look, I have to go. I'll see you around, all right?' And Sejal vanished so abruptly it created a wash of Dream energy that almost bowled Ben over. Slowly he got to his feet. The anger, initially directed at Sufur, shifted toward Sejal. What was Sejal doing that was so important? He wasn't a Child of Irfan, took orders from no one except his parents as far as Ben knew. Kendi had saved Sejal's life, for god's sake.

Ben took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Sejal wasn't usually mean or thoughtless. Maybe he had a good reason for refusing to help. What it might be, Ben had no idea. In any case, it was obvious that getting assistance from Sejal would not be an option, and there was no point in expending energy getting angrier about it. He needed something else to think about. Ben waved a hand, banishing the charred hole in the ground and replacing it with the featureless, blank plain that was the default condition of the Dream. Faint voices whispered on the air, just barely audible. Ben closed his eyes and concentrated on what he wanted to see. Around him, the Dream shifted and shimmered, bending to his will. Ben opened his eyes and smiled.

He was standing in a large nursery. Eleven cribs lined the walls, each one different. Shelves stood filled with toys, and happy animals capered across the brightly-colored walls and ceiling. Gauzy curtains floated in balmy spring air that breezed through open windows. Ben admired it for several moments, trying to imagine what it would look like filled with babies and children. He snorted, knowing the answer. Toys would be scattered all over the room, some of them broken, while shrieks and cries bounced off the walls. Someone would be laughing, someone else would be crying, and yet another someone would be howling in indignation over some slight. Far from idyllic.

With eleven children, Ben knew, there would be days when he would wonder why he had ever thought having even one was a good idea. But he was equally sure there would also be days when he would wonder how he had lived without them. He was eager to experience both.

Then he sighed. It would be a while. First they had to free Kendi's brother and sister, and after that they'd have to find host mothers. Still, it was fun to dream and plan, especially when he knew that eventually it would all come true.

Assuming they didn't get caught stealing slaves from Silent Acquisitions. Assuming they could find host mothers. Assuming they could afford eleven children. Assuming the Children of Irfan didn't simply disappear.

Ben bit his lip. It was hard to imagine the Children of Irfan fading away. The monastery had always been there, a comfortable constant in his life. He knew every building, every walkway, every tree and balcony. He couldn't imagine them empty and lifeless, bereft of the people who had lived and worked there for almost a thousand years. As well imagine the sun going out. But when the current generation of Silent died, the Children would indeed die with them.