Bite Marks

itself overwhelmed everything else, even the ability to process the instructions they needed to make it successful. I looked over them to Cassandra, gave her a keep an eye on them look.

We crept down the path toward the gate. “Astral,” I whispered. “Go back to the tunnel exit. Don’t get caught.”

We rejoined Vayl at the gate door. He’d hidden the guard’s body. My guess would’ve been inside the trash can. Good call. Laal and Pajo didn’t need to see us handling corpses if we could help it.

Vayl took stock. Tender look for me. Approval toward Cassandra and Jack. Curiosity in Tabitha’s direction. And for the boys, a moment of intensity, like the silence before a shout.

He pulled me aside. Spoke directly into my ear. “We have to get these boys out safely.”

“Of course.”

“Understand me. Whatever else happens, here, or with the mission, we cannot let these boys die.” I stared into his eyes, which had turned the purple of a boxer’s ribs after a bad beating. And I knew something about Laal and Pajo had reminded him sharply of his own murdered sons. Or maybe it was just that he’d finally found a chance to prevent another father from feeling the anguish he’d endured now for over two hundred and fifty years. Didn’t matter to me.

I said, “The boys live no matter what. Of course. There was never another option.” He put both hands to my shoulders like he meant to hug me; then he looked over my head, remembered our circumstances, and dropped his arms. Turning toward the crowd so that he blocked most of us at the gate with both his bulk and power, he murmured, “Now, Bergman.” Motioning us forward, he began to move at a slow but even pace back the way we’d come.

Which was when Bergman popped out from behind the trees and climbed up the back of the bandstand.

He shoved his way to the front of the stage, a camera in each hand, grinning like a lunatic and blowing an enormous bubble from a spare piece of gum he must’ve borrowed from Cole.

The band faded out. Its inattentive audience quickly swung its focus away from itself and to the stage as this new phenomenon began to click off picture after picture. Finally Bergman grabbed a microphone.

“Okay, that was excellent. Now, my guy in Hollywood tells me if this movie’s going to work we’re gonna need all of you to really get into your parts. Okay? And… smile!” CHAPTERFOURTEEN

Iwas genuinely shocked when I froze. Paralysis is not what I do. I think. On my feet. As they move.

Generally at my target. Or away from danger. Or, in this case, toward the exit while I figured out how to rescue my idiot consultant before he got himself killed and Pete demoted me to, oh, I don’t know…

resident flyswatter?

But I was stuck. This was my first clue that Brude had commandeered my limbs. Then he turned me toward the source of what he thought would soon be lurid entertainment. In other words, a bloodbath.

Starring my best friend, who was clicking off shots of the crowd and talking fast about some fantasy film starring Angelina Jolie and Warwick Davies. Dumbass.

Granny May! I yelled, an SOS to my own psyche. I saw her head shoot up from the green beans she’d been snapping into a bowl on her lap. She still sat on the front porch. But she looked less fearful. And I noticed she’d brought some sort of club outside with her. I focused on the item that lay on the floor beside her rocking chair. Nearly giggled out loud when I recognized the leg of an old iron lamp Gramps Lew had kept promising to fix but never seemed to get to. She’d taken to carrying it with her from room to room as a reminder, which had evolved into a joke. And once he’d died, it had become a memento.

Now, maybe, it would take another role.

I see him, she whispered, leaning down to get a good grip on the club. Trust me, Jazzy, he won’t get any closer. You get on with your job, now.

Hoping my mind could war on itself without causing irreparable damage, I tried to take a step. Yes! A couple more. Go, Granny May! I hustled to get back into formation, which was a lot like before, only now Vayl and I had three extra civilians lining up between us.

We’d made it a quarter of the way around the back edge of the crowd. Nobody had a clue their prisoners were escaping. All eyes had glued themselves to the idiot human on the platform, who seemed to be delivering a message of fame and good fortune that even the most devout among them found hard to ignore.

“I’m gonna kill him,” I whispered. “If they don’t get to him first, that is.” Remembering the party line I said, “Do you hear that, Bergman? You were supposed to pull some amazing gadget out of your bag and fill the place with stink bombs or locusts or something. Not risk your freaking neck on a dumb stunt that Cole might pull. Just let me get these kids safe and then I’ll—”

“I know what I’m doing here!” Bergman announced to the crowd, though I knew he’d aimed his statement at me. “You might question my methods a little bit, but this is how blockbusters get made. I’m telling you, Hugh Jackman started out the same way. Now, could we have all the gentlemen just line up on either side of the stairs here?”

The gnomish men traded puzzled looks. A couple of them rose. And why wouldn’t they? Bergman sounded so confident.

“That’s right,” he said. “Form a kind of hallway for the shaman to walk through when he comes onstage.

That’s the way the director is visualizing it, so he wants me to get some shots to send back to him.” More gnomes stood. A living tunnel began to form. Because the shaman must have approved this stickman’s presence. How else would he know about their leader’s impending appearance?

“Excellent. Great.” Bergman worked himself to the corner of the bandstand closest to our exit as he snapped picture after picture. “Ope! I think I see the shaman coming! Already.” Bergman’s voice tried to strangle itself. He murmured, “Something’s wrong with this parade. The shaman’s standing on some kind of raft carried by uniformed guards, but he’s stiff and wobbly. Almost like a mannequin… Do they believe in freeze-drying their religious leaders?”

“We have no information that he has even been sick,” Vayl replied. “Proceed as planned.” Bergman gulped so loudly my ears popped. Then he yelled, “Everybody stand up straight! Yep, that means you people in the middle too. On your feet! Stand and face the shaman!” Even from our spot, a city block from freedom, I could hear the distant