machinery carcasses, and he stepped toward it gingerly. Amethyst mimicked his movements. They slipped wraith- silent through the clearing, and up to the entrance to that new passage, all the while keeping their eyes locked on the guitarist.
Just as they thought they had made it through unseen, the man turned. He winked at them, and there was a very subtle change in the sound from his instrument. It didn't disrupt the rhythm, or the song, but Donovan knew in that instant that some message had been sent.
'He sees us,' Amethyst said. She didn't sound frightened, but she did sound confused.
'It's the music,' Donovan said. 'I don't think he knows who, or even what we are for certain. He's so in tune with the sound, so connected to the notes and the rhythm that he felt us pass. He's informed the others of it, too. Whatever comes next, I think we have to assume that Anya Cabrera is now aware that someone is here.'
They ducked onto the path and hurried off toward the center of the yard. They were very close. Donovan spotted an old front loader. It had been parked with its shovel up in the air, high enough that it peeked over the top of most of the stacked vehicles.
'There,' he said. 'We should be able to see what's going on from there and still remain out of site. She won't be any more able to see us than before. Knowing someone is here and finding them are two different things entirely, and Anya Cabrera has other things on her mind.'
They scrambled up the old, yellow hulk and climbed into the deep, rusted shovel. Once inside they peered out over the toothed lip. Smoke billowed and wisped from the central square of the junkyard. They could make out whirling, dancing shapes. They saw Anya Cabrera, wearing nothing but a thin scarf around her neck, sliding sinuously in and out among the other dancers.
'Showtime,' Donovan whispered.
Chapter Nineteen
Jake and Enrique came down from Santini Park toward the junkyard at a slow trot. They paid no attention to those they passed, and any who happened to be between the two and their goal stepped aside. There was something different about them, something it wasn't easy to put a finger on. They moved quickly and silently. Both men were dressed in jeans, leather jackets, and heavy boots, but it was the jackets that caught at the attention of passersby and stuck with them for years after.
As they had passed, the dragons on the backs of those jackets came clearly into view. The colors were vivid, so bright they gave off an illumination all their own. Even those watching from a distance saw the details clearly. As they left the safe bounds of their own territory and entered the darker parts of the Barrio, they dropped out of sight, shifting into the shadows. The dragons left colored trails that lingered in the dusky air.
Whispered questions followed them. Everyone knew who they were, but none could answer why two of the dragons would enter the territory of their enemies alone. The news of the battle in the park, and Vasquez's fall was fresh, and the junkyard was viewed with a mixture of fear and loathing. Now the jackets started rumors of their own.
On a street corner with a clear view of the entrance to the junkyard, Martinez stood and watched them pass. He saw the dragons on their backs more clearly than any of the others watching. He had examined each at close range. He had mixed the sealant into the paint, a special oil that bound the designs to the leather. His was the charm of binding. He alone knew that there was a great deal more to Jake and Enrique now than there had been. They possessed the potential for greatness — what remained was to see how they fulfilled that potential.
The two slowed as they reached the street that opened onto the junkyard. Martinez watched a moment longer, and then slipped back into the shadows. He had a great deal to accomplish and not all that much time in which to accomplish it. From this point on, the two were on their own
~* ~
Jake stopped and held out an arm to slow Enrique. The streets were clearing quickly as those still lingering noticed the two intruders. No one wanted to get caught between The Dragons and Los Escorpiones. They didn't mind gossiping about it, but they didn't want to be part. Besides, with the lights, the music, and the smoke rising from the junkyard, it was a good night to be somewhere else.
'You see 'em?' Jake asked. He nodded toward the entrance to the junkyard, where two of Anya's guardians stood, glaring at them. The big men were bald, dark, and seriously muscled. Jake had seen them from a distance, but he'd never interacted with them.
'I was kind of hoping for Escorpiones,' Enrique muttered. 'Those guys creep me out.'
They continued slowly, walking up the gate as if they'd been invited. Jake kept a big grin on his face and made no sudden moves. He figured that the closer they got before trouble started, the better chance they had of making their crazy-assed plan work. He wasn't big on their chances for survival, but they had a few tricks up their sleeves, and there was more. He felt the dragon through the leather of his jacket. He felt stronger than he'd ever felt in his long, rough life. He thought if he got a good run he could leap right over the two guards, though he knew the thought was crazy. He imagined what the yard would look like from the air.
'You ready?' Enrique asked.
The sound broke Jake's reverie, and he nodded again. 'Let's do this.'
They stepped up to the gate, brought their hands out of their pockets simultaneously, and tossed handfuls of white powder into the face of the two startled guards. The action caught the big men completely off guard, and the powder struck them full in the face. With twin gurgling cries of pain and dismay they dropped to their knees. Jake didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and planted the steel toe of his boot in the first guard's forehead, driving him back. Enrique grabbed the second by the throat, lifted him like a child and drove him back so his head struck a wooden post on the fence.
'We're in,' Jake said. 'Move!'
They plunged through the gate and rushed down the path toward the first set of torches.
'I don't see anyone,' Enrique said.
'They're here,' Jake grated. 'Count on it. They aren't leaving just those two on guard.'
Almost before the words cleared his lips, a figure slid out of the shadows. This time it was one of Los Escorpiones, a thin, dark eyed young man with a chain wrapped around one forearm and a knife in his other hand. Behind him, a second peeled loose from the deeper darkness. This one was big. He had what looked like a snapped off car antenna in his hand, probably improvised from their surroundings.
About ten yards farther in, Jake saw the flicker of lanterns. These two were meant to ambush anyone getting close to that next checkpoint, catching them unaware in the darkness. It should have worked, too, except, the darkness suddenly didn't bother him. He had no idea how, but he saw clearly, even into the deeper shadows, and when the first of their attackers sprang, he dodged the man's blade easily. The boy grunted with exertion and swung the heavy chain in an arc toward Jake's head, but it might as well have been in slow motion.
Jake reached up and grabbed the chain, dragged it in the same direction his attacker had swung it, and sent the man into a spin that landed him on his back in the dirt. He moved as soon as he hit, rolling to his feet, but Jake was there, one hand on the wrist beneath the gripped knife and the other on his throat. Jake threw back his head, let loose a howl of rage, and slammed the smaller man into the wall of broken automobiles so hard that it shivered. For an instant it looked as if the wall might topple in on them, and then it steadied. Jake dropped the Escorpione and spun.
Enrique had closed with the second, bigger man, who was also older and wiser. He stepped back, urging Enrique forward, and then swung the antenna so hard it made a sizzling sound in the air. Enrique turned just enough that the blow glanced off his shoulder and drove forward. His opponent hadn't expected such a direct attack. Enrique lowered his head, bent his knees and drove up beneath the man's chin. With a bellow the Escorpione went down. Enrique tried to roll right on over him, but the big man was hurt — not beaten. He lashed out with the antenna again and caught Enrique in the back of the wrist.
That blow should have shattered bone. Jake saw it clearly. He lurched forward, reaching to block it, but he was too late. He heard the smack of metal on flesh, saw Enrique stumble, but only for an instant. There was a ripple of blue light across the afflicted wrist. Sparks flew. Enrique growled and spun back. He swiped his boot across his downed opponent's jaw so fast and hard the man's head spun, and the neck snapped wickedly to the side.
