He shifted to astral perception and studied the being's aura. He knew now how to recognize a wendigo aura, and he had no doubt that he was seeing one. But he had not been magically active the last time he had seen his sister. Nor had she gone through the change. How would he know if this was she? He could not be sure. Like a half-remembered dream, something in the being's aura nagged with familiarity.
'Janice?'
The red-rimmed eyes that turned to him were bleak.
The face in which they were set was totally unfamiliar. He could not find a hint of his sister's fair features. He had already heard this wendigo's voice and found nothing to recognize in it.
'Sam?'
His throat constricted when he heard her pronounce his name, 'Sa-am.' His doubts fled. 'Lord in Heaven, it is you.'
There was so much to say, but Sam couldn't find the words. Ever since he had heard of her goblinization, he had feared for her. His attempts to contact her through Renraku had been inexplicably stifled. But he had never forgotten her, never stopped trying to figure out a way to contact her. She stood before him now and the moment was nothing like any he had imagined. He had been afraid kawaru had left her an ork, or worse, a trolla151but this! Ever since he had learned what wendigo were, he had hated them. Janice only stared at him, her dark eyes an enigma. Finally he stammered, 'I want to help.' 'Where were you when I needed you before?' she asked accusingly. 'I tried to-'
'If you had really fragging tried, you would have done something. Dan was there when I needed him. You abandon me, then you come back into my life, and you take him away from me. You want to help me? Bring him back.' 'But he was a wendigo.'
'And what do you think / am?' she shouted, slamming a great paw against her chest. 'There has to be a way to help you.' Her laughter was bitter. 'And I grew up thinking / was the romantic and you were the practical one. There's no redemption for me. Don't you see I'm already damned?'
'I can't believe that you just let her leave.' Estios stormed back and forth across the short space afforded him. The apartment was one of Hart's safehouses. The back room had been roomy for Willie and her rigger board, but with all the runners gathered, space was at a premium. Most of the fine furniture had been pushed back against the walls to make room for the Mitsuhama Medical Technologies Home Convalesence Bed in which Hart lay. The runners, both the unscathed and the wounded, and their gear looked absurdly out of place among the wainscoting, natural fiber rugs, and timber-beamed ceiling.
As soon as Estios passed him, Dodger stuck a foot into the open space. Estios's attention was focused on Sam; he remained unaware of the obstruction as he retraced his path. Teresa elbowed Dodger in the ribs and he retracted his foot just before Estios would have stumbled over it.
Monitoring the readouts on the MMT bed, Sam was only half-aware of Estios's ravings. Sam was no expert, but he thought the readings indicated that Hart should be conscious. Though her eyes remained closed and she didn't respond when he whispered her name, he felt sure she was awake, refusing to acknowledge anything around her.
He was afraid that he was what she was avoiding. But it might have been that she didn't want to deal with the loud-mouthed Estios, or maybe she just wanted to rest. Either made sense. They had all been through a lot and no one wanted to hear Estios rant.
Sam looked around the room. Dodger and Teresa were holding a private conversation where they sat on the long couch. They were intense and Dodger looked unhappy. Willie sat hunched over her rigger board and was ostentatiously busy with the controls. Father Rinaldi, when they had been exchanging tales in the Shidhe holding cell, had told Sam that he disliked any kind of computer-human interface, but he was helping Willie watch the viewscreen. From what little Sam could see of the pictures relayed from her spotter drones, nothing much was happening. Obviously, Janice was still inside the rundown tenement where she had gone to ground.
Sam suddenly realized Estios had stopped talking and was looking at him. The elf must have asked a question. With no memory of having heard the question, Sam had no hope of answering it.
'Look,' he said with a sigh. 'It's over. The Circle's broken.'
'Weren't you listening? It's not over as long as
Ashton and Wallace are still out there.'
'If you're so worried about them, go do something about it. I think they were just minor players. With the others all dead, especially the wendigo who built the Circle and fed them the power they thought their sacrifices gained them, they won't be a problem. An anonymous message to the Lord Protector's Oversight Board will get them their comeuppance.'
'They might still escape and recruit new members. Even if they do not, the monster's mate is still out there.'
Sam buried his face in his hands and tried to massage away the anger he felt toward the obtuse Estios. 'Forget her. She wasn't part of the Circle.' 'I can't forget her. She's a wendigo. That's enough reason for her to die.'
Sam got to his feet. His ribs ached within the restraint of his torso bandage. He was wobbly, but the walking cast on his leg made a limping shuffle possible. He hobbled across to Estios and looked up into the elf's face.
'You're not going to kill her.' Estios curled his lip; he put his hand on Sam's chest and shoved him backward. Sam landed in a chair with an agonizing shock that sent a wave of blackness and wheeling lights across his vision. He was glad he had fallen in the cushioned chair; hitting the floor or a wall might have caused him to pass out. He didn't think Estios would have cared.
'You're too emotionally involved, Verner. I will assume that the painkillers have fogged your reasoning, and overlook your criminal shortsightedness. She stopped being your sister the day she grew fur.' Estios surveyed the room. 'We've wasted enough time. Put the drones on standby and transfer control to your van, rigger. Priest, you'll stay here with the wounded. Everybody else, grab your gear. We're going hunting.'
Willie looked to Sam. She had never liked Estios and hated taking his orders. She seemed torn between her loyalty to Sam and the weight of the elf's arguments. Her eyes asked for a release from the burden of decision.
Seeing that no one else was going to stand up to Estios, Sam gritted his teeth. There was a table next to the chair, and he grabbed it, hoping to take some of the pressure off his ribs as he attempted to stand. Pain rocked him as he tried, and he collapsed back into the chair.
Dodger was across the room and crouched at Sam's side in an instant. The elf used one hand to steady Sam in the chair while his deft fingers adjusted controls on Sam's torso wrap. There was a brief hiss as more gas pumped into the bandage's tubes to increase its rigidity.
'He's going too far, Teresa,' Dodger said. 'This is a dangerous plan.'
'If you're scared, alley runner, you can stay behind. We'll be playing in the real world where people get really hurt. You wouldn't like it. Why don't you go hide in your electron fantasies?'' Estios took a step toward the couch and held out his hand to Teresa.
Dodger stepped forward. 'Don't go with him, Teresa.'
Teresa stared past Sam, obviously meeting Dodger's gaze. Sam could see wavering emotions on her face. Dodger was out of Sam's line of sight, but he felt Dodger's tension through the elf's grip on his arm. The grip tightened as Teresa dropped her eyes and took Estios's hand.
Estios helped her up, then bent, retrieved her weapon, and tossed it to her. All the while Estios grinned at Dodger like a kid who had won a prize at a carnival.
'Get a move on, rigger,' he said, slapping a hand against the back of Willie's chair. 'We've got vermin to exterminate.'
Estios reached for his own Steyr, which leaned against the table with the rigger board, and froze as a new voice entered the conversation.
'Touch it and your boss will need a new number one, Ice Eyes.'
Hart's voice was hoarse. Her eyes, sunken and dark ringed, were open and burned with fever. Their gaze was fixed on Estios. Her left arm lay across her body, which took most of the weight of the gun she held. She pointed the muzzle at Estios. Sam had no idea where she had gotten the weapon, but she wasn't in any shape to use it effectively. He thought he noticed a slight tremor in her hand.
Estios looked at her, his face stony. Then, apparently dismissing the threat, he started to reach for his
