Street Magic (23 page)

In the house on the Street of Hares, Evvy found plenty to do with Briar away. She practiced her letters until she got bored, then leafed through the book of stones they were using, gazing in wonder at the colored illustrations. She couldn’t wait to read what stone each beautiful picture represented, and tried to guess their names by using the letters she’d learned so far. When that grew tiresome, she tried to interest her cat Ball in playing with a round of hematite from her stone alphabet.

Was that a noise on the roof? She listened sharply, but heard nothing. Suddenly wary, she put the hematite piece back into its pocket, rolled up the stone alphabet, and took it into the pantry. Once it was hidden, she emerged from the pantry, walking straight into a hand covered with smelly cloth. It covered her face. She clawed at whoever held it, but the fumes burned through her nose into her head, pulling darkness into her.

It was a long, hard trip to the Water temple, with plenty of stops to rest. At last Briar was able to turn Mai over to the Water temple healers. They assured him they’d give her the best of care, and assured Mai that there was no charge. After she gave him directions to the Viper lair, Briar said his goodbyes to Mai. He was about to go when something made him ask, “What will you do after this? Go back to the Vipers?”

Mai, pale-faced and sweating, shook her head. “That’s a joke. I’m out of gangs, any gangs. Nobody knows how to act any more. My sister’s been after me to work in her cook-shop. I’ll try that instead.”

“If you don’t mind?” snapped the healer appointed to care for Mai. “The sooner I treat her, the better she’ll feel. You can talk later.”

Briar wasn’t sure they’d have a later to talk in. From the look on her face, Mai felt the same way. “Walk carefully with the Vipers,” she told him. “Keep an eye out for the lady’s mute and the swordsman. Especially the mute. He’s noiseless when he walks, and he likes to get behind people.”

Briar saluted her and strode out of the infirmary, his mage kit over his shoulder. Once outside, he sorted through his magical ties. Here were Tris, Daja, and Sandry, his connections to them stretched over so much distance that they were as fine as hairs to his magical vision. Here were his bonds to Rosethorn and to Dedicate Crane back at Winding Circle. Crane’s, too, was thinned by distance. And here was Evvy’s, strong and steady. Right now she was closer physically than even Rosethorn - but she was not in the north and east, where the house was. Her tie led south of his present position, in the direction of the Vipers’ den. The tie was also warm with Evvy’s rage. She wasn’t frightened or in pain, but she was definitely angry.

That makes two of us, Briar thought grimly as he set off down the Street of Wells.

Evvy woke, gasping for air, and panicked. Everything was black around her, black and lightless. Had she been caught in a cave-in? But she always knew when stone was about to give way…

She tried to feel in front of her with her hands, to find they were tied together behind her back. Her feet were tied as well. Vipers, she thought, panicky and livid at the same time. The pus-filled, leeching, dung-faced Vipers had caught her at last.

“She’s awake,” a female voice called. “I saw her thrash.”

“Good,” drawled another voice, male. “The little crawler needs her exercise.”

“Lemme give her water,” a second female said. “You know sleepy juice dries your mouth.”

“Females - so tender-hearted. Leave the blindfold on,” the male voice ordered. “Don’t let her see anything to work magic with.”

Hands helped Evvy to sit up. She felt a cup at her lips. Ignoring the pain in her hands and arms, which were trapped under her, Evvy gratefully slurped water until her belly was full. When she finished, hands lay her down on her side again.

They had come over the roofs, she realized. Pahan Briar had forgotten to magic the rooftop door, not remembering how much Chammurans used the upper roads. I’ll give him a hard time about it when I see him again, she promised herself. She refused to believe she might never see him again. He would get her out of this - if he could.

Is that what I’ve learned in four years? she wondered, gnawing her lower lip. Somebody else will come and help? Nobody helps me.

Except Pahan Briar. She had never known anyone like him, had never heard of anyone like him. He talked like a sensible person, for one thing, not like the pahans of the souks and stories. He knew what it was like to be poor and afraid. She could see it in his eyes.

Am I a lily-footed princess of the imperial court, unable to walk on my own? she thought, remembering the noblest ladies in Yanjing. She had always felt sorry for them because they couldn’t run from trouble. Well, now she couldn’t run away, either, but she hated to think that Pahan Briar would learn she hadn’t done something to fight the Vipers.

Master High-and-Mighty Viper was wrong about her magic. If she felt it working, like the pahan said she could, she might be able to do something. Anything.

She was on bare, pounded earth. No help there. The nearest stone was in the wall, two feet behind her. It was old stone. It had been here for a very long time after it was cut from its bed. It had lasted for three houses built on its foundation, each new building setting it more firmly in its ways. Getting that stone to move, hundreds of years after it had been cut and placed here, would take work, hard work.

It was fizzy, her magic. She’d felt it that morning, during meditation. It fizzed inside her brain, and kept on fizzing when she reached for something, as if it were an arm that had gone to sleep. Evvy sent a stream of magic down into her hands, straining it through her spread fingers. Now she had six cords of her power. She thrust them at the wall, twining each one around a stone. She hoped she didn’t pull the house down on herself, but she had to do something, and this was all she had to work with.

Taking a breath, gripping her power, Evvy pulled on her stones. Within moments she was soaked with sweat, though she hardly noticed it. She pulled again, and again, dragging on her power while the stones in the wall grumbled and groaned. The habit of long years was hard to break. She felt as if she tried to walk down Triumph Road dragging this house and its old, mulish foundation.

“Yoru, look at her.” It was the female’s voice, the girl who had brought water to Evvy. “I think the sleep-stuff made her sick.”

“Fussing over the thukdak again?” The male voice drew closer. Evvy felt air move, and a hand touched her face. “Sweating. What’s the matter, princess, scared?”

Evvy went cold with fury; her grip on her magic slackened. Please, she thought to the stones, believing she had failed. Pretty please? she thought, hating that bit of childish silliness.

In the stone she felt an answer that seemed uncomfortably like, you could have just asked.

Rock grated; Evvy smelled dust. People yelled. A handful of stones exploded from the wall, just over Evvy’s body. One struck the boy in front of her; he grunted and hit the ground with a thump. Evvy drew up her legs and kicked out, shoving him away from her.

Someone was babbling a prayer to Mohun for quiet and peace. A boy cried, “Get me a rag; Yoru’s bleeding.”

“Ikrum?” someone further away cried. “Ikrum, you’d best come!”

“What happened?” The young man’s voice came from outside the room. When he spoke again, Evvy could tell he wasn’t far from her. “Shaihun eat it, what did she do?”

A babble of voices answered him. Evvy heard the boy near her moan. Not dead, she thought savagely. Too bad.

“We thought she couldn’t do magic if she was blindfolded!” cried the girl who’d given her water. “She’ll pull the house down if we keep her here!”

“Yoru?” The young man’s voice sounded now close to Evvy, as if he crouched about three feet away.

“Brained me,” said the cruel boy’s voice, slurred and filled with pain. “Li’l belbun threw stone at… me.”

“Well, your skull’s in one piece.” There was no sympathy in the crisp voice.

Please? Evvy asked the rocks in the wall near those she’d pulled out. Please help?

They thought about it.

Hard fingers grabbed her ear and twisted. She lost her hold on the magic between her and the rocks in a wash of pain. “I think we’d better take you to the lady, Yoru’s belbun? the crisp voice said. “She’ll know what to do with you, or her mage will. And if I were you,” he added in a whisper, “I’d think of ways to keep the lady happy. If you don’t, you’ll never see daylight again.” To someone else he called, “Gimme the sleepy juice.”

Evvy fought to concentrate on the stones, tried to grip her magic through the pain in her ear, but she couldn’t do it. She tried to thrash out of crisp-voice’s hold, but that just made her ear hurt more. In a moment smothering, smelly cloth covered her mouth and nose. She fell into shadows, without even dreams for company.

By taking Mai to the Water temple, Briar had dealt himself a bit of luck. The street on which the Vipers laired was close to the temple. Better still, the turning onto the Vipers’ street, Oleander Way, was clearly marked. He had not gone far down that twisted road when he saw that other visitors had come to call. Ten Gate Lords clustered around a blank doorway over which a snake was painted. The gang members were armed with clubs and daggers.

Briar looked at the Gate Lords coldly. If they attacked the den, Evvy might get hurt. That was unacceptable. He had to deal with the Gate Lords first.

As soon as he had made the seed balls he and Rosethorn used for protection on the road, Briar had stowed his share in his mage kit. Reaching into an outer pocket, he slid out two wrapped in yellow cloth. He sprinkled them with a few drops from the kit’s water bottle.

A Gate Lord looking around noticed he was there. He pointed a club a Briar. “Stop gawping and take off, if you know what’s good for you!”

Briar glanced at the club: it sprouted leafy twigs and sent roots searching for the ground. As the Gate Lord yelped and dropped it, Briar hurled a ball into the midst of the gang. It opened when it hit, scattering seeds. Briar followed it with a surge of power. The seeds he had so carefully prepared exploded in frantic growth.

Vines shot from the ground in all directions, as if they meant to do twenty years’ worth of growing in an afternoon. They were a mixture of grape and five-finger plants, tough, flexible and strong, spelled to twine rope-like around the target Briar chose. He directed them to the Gate Lords. The vines obeyed, whipping around gang members, trapping arms, legs, and weapons. Three went sprawling, to be bound where they lay. The remaining seven were dragged back by their green captors, away from the Vipers’ door. Some vines shot across the street. They wrapped long stems around door handles and window gratings, tying four Gate Lords to it. Some plants reached out to one another, yanking the remaining three captives into one green bundle.

Once the Gate Lords were secure and yelling curses in voices that shook with terror, Briar plucked weapons from helpless fingers, placing them in a heap out of harm’s way. “Be good, children,” he told his captives. “I won’t be but a minute.”

Just before he passed through the open frame, he threw his second damp packet into the room beyond. With it he sent another surge of magic.

Vipers charged as he walked out of the bright street and into the lamplit shadows of the den. They’d been preparing for the Gate Lords’ attack. They had their own weapons in hand, including lead-weighted blackjacks. The contents of Briar’s seed packet dug into the bare dirt floor unnoticed as the Vipers closed on him.

Mind the lamps, he ordered silently as his seeds began to grow. They burn.

Vines wriggled around and past the lamps like green snakes, reaching with eager tendrils to snare human beings. Briar ducked a swinging punch from the nearest Viper and called three vines to trap the youth’s arms: it wasn’t that he couldn’t or didn’t want to punch back, but that Evvy came first. The smoky, garbage-scented air of the cellar changed as more vines sprouted and threw out leaves. Briar took a deep breath of cleaner air and faced the boy who had tried to punch him. It was Yoru, the short black Viper. He was now bound in a web of green ropes, gasping for breath. A bloodstained rag was wrapped around his forehead.

Briar pulled away the stem that clutched Yoru’s throat, letting him breathe. “Sorry to interrupt that war you started with the Gate Lords,” he said with false good manners. “Tell me where Evvy is and I’ll let you get back to it.”

The other boy spat in his face. Briar grimaced, wiped the spittle on his sleeve, and ordered the vines to hang the Viper upside down. They grew, anchoring themselves on the posts that supported the building above, taking Yoru with them. Briar went to the next Viper, and the next. Those who didn’t spit on him cursed him. By the time he’d reached the far door, the vines had borne fruit: a crop of dangling, trapped Vipers.

Briar stepped across the doorsill into the next cellar. It looked to be the room where they slept: mattresses and sacking beds lay on the floor. The front room vines were already here, snaring the feet of any Vipers present. Briar, tired of being polite, took a crimson packet out, wet it, and tossed it onto the floor. Thin, whippy vines punctuated with hooked thorns jumped from the seeds as they sank roots in the dirt floor.

A Viper rushed Briar from the side. Briar dropped to his knees and grabbed the gang youth’s arm, using his leverage to toss his foe into the wall. The Viper hit with a grunt, the wind knocked out of him. Before he could sit up, Briar was on his chest. His knees dug into the fallen youth’s ribcage as he held a knife to his throat.

“You people took Evvy. I want her back,” Briar told the youth softly. He sent a command to the nearest rose. A thorny vine lashed out to furl itself around one of the Viper’s hands, forcing him to drop the knife he’d meant to stick into Briar’s ribs. “You didn’t answer,” Briar chided. “Stabbing isn’t an answer.” The youth looked at the room beyond them, his eyes wide at the sight of his friends battling with vines and roses. Briar gripped his chin and forced his captive to look at him. “Now listen to me. She’s ten, skinny, has Yanjing blood in her, and she’s my student. Where is she?”