“She’s on berth three. We’ll split up and look for her,” I said.
“We’ll signal if we find her,” Danello said. “Three caws, then two, like we practised.”
“Got it.” Tali nodded.
“No,” I said. “You’re going to the town house with Soek and Jovan.” All three started arguing and I waved my hands to quiet them. “Listen, the rent collector is probably going to tell the soldiers about me, so the town house isn’t safe any more. You three need to get everyone ready and head right to Barnikoff’s.” He’d be surprised when they showed up, but we didn’t have a choice. “It’s go now or get caught.”
Tali folded her arms. “I’m not leaving you.” Her eyes teared up and she leaned in closer. “If they catch you, we’ll be separated again. I’d rather be caught with you than all alone.”
I pictured Tali on her own, trying to find food, avoid soldiers. Stay alive. “OK, but you do exactly as I say and stay close.”
“I will.”
I turned to the others. “Let’s go.”
We left the bakery and hurried to the docks, the sun already beating down on our heads. Aylin and I headed into the maze while Danello and the boy followed the outside paths. A few paces ahead a lake gull squawked and took flight, its white feathers stark against the brown and green of the crab traps rising like cliffs around us. Lake gulls usually spooked at things they thought might eat them – and these days that meant people as often as crocodiles. I dropped and Aylin and Tali dropped with me, taking cover behind a drying rack.
Footsteps shuffled about thirty feet behind us. Slow, steady, cautious. Too heavy for a scared girl, but not heavy enough for a dock worker. Then another set of footsteps. Maybe these trackers were working in pairs – one flushed the prey and the other caught it.
I gestured at Aylin to sneak around and try to see who the footsteps belonged to. She nodded and crept along the stacks.
Footsteps again, then—
Polished boots and dark trousers stepped into view. A tracker! I heard a scraping sound, like a weapon being drawn.
“Come out, come out – we know you’re here,” a woman called, her voice cold, yet teasing.
My heart raced. I looked for Aylin, but she was no longer in the tight walkway. Tali’s eyes were wide, but she stayed low and silent.
I peeked between the traps for a better look at the woman. She turned a slow circle, her hand out in front of her. I tiptoed away from the tracker until I reached the end of the row and ducked behind a dock shed. If the trackers kept moving forward, I could—
Sniff.
I turned towards the sound, my feet ready to bolt the other way. The boy’s sister! She was about my age, but small as Tali. She’d wedged herself under a cleaning table at the edge of the dock about fifty feet away.
Waves sighed against the canal walls and hissed through the reeds growing along the boat-launching ramps. The tracker stood by the closest ramp, a blue-black pynvium rod in her hand. Much better than a sword. As long as she didn’t use it on anyone but me.
I turned to Tali and pointed to a dinghy leaning against a post.
She nodded.
A fake gull cried out – three caws, close. Aylin was probably on the other side of the sister. I cawed back twice. The tracker turned away and I darted across the row, slipping under the dinghy. Tali slipped in behind me a breath later.
The tracker moved away from the launching ramp, narrowing the distance between her and the girl. Danello slipped behind the tracker, darting across the row. The brother had to be there, though I didn’t see him. I hoped he didn’t do anything reckless to help his sister.
The tracker stiffened and turned as if she’d heard us.
I left Tali and moved closer, testing each footstep before settling my weight down on the bleached planks of the dock.
Movement under the cleaning table caught my eye. The sister leaned forward as if about to run, terror on her face. I shook my head and she sat back.
Creak.
I froze. The tracker snapped around and raised her pynvium weapon. She glanced at the traps and pulled a knife from her boot as well.
Creak.
The tracker followed the sound, her head cocked, her weapons ready.
The sister gasped, soft as a splash. I held up my hands and mouthed, stay. She nodded.
The tracker was right on the other side of the traps from me. She took another cautious step in her shiny black boots and then stopped.
She narrowed her eyes. She cocked her head again and stepped closer to the wall of crab traps separating us.
Had she sensed me?
Jeatar had warned me about that before he’d left Geveg. “The Duke will hire the best trackers to go after you. The ones who can sense a Taker like a Taker senses pynvium. The good ones can sense a Taker just by walking by.”
If she’d sensed us from this distance, she was really good.
“Come out, come out, little girl,” she called louder.
I held my breath. Light drops of sweat dotted her brow and upper lip. Was she scared? If so, maybe I could catch her off guard, give the others time to move in and the sister time to move out.
“I know you’re here,” the tracker called. She held up one hand, inches away from the traps hiding me, as if she could feel me behind the wood. “Is that you, Shifter?”
I swallowed my gasp. She had to be guessing. She couldn’t possibly know it was me.
“I’ll leave the girl alone if you show yourself. You’re a much better prize for the Duke than she is.”
The dock creaked again. Aylin or Danello? “You can’t evade me for long, Shifter,” the tracker said in that irritating singsong voice.
Maybe not, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.
“You can’t run,” she continued. “We have guards on every bridge off every isle. Soldiers at all the pole boat docks. If I don’t get you, one of my men will.”
Men? Since when did trackers hire others to help them?
I caught another glimpse of the tracker through the holes in the traps, then she was gone.
“Got you.”
Chapter Four
I gasped and spun. The tracker had a pynvium rod in her hand. She flicked her wrist and—
Whoomp.
Pain flashed from it, stinging my skin like blown sand. She gaped at me, shocked that I hadn’t collapsed to the ground screaming in pain. I guess they hadn’t figured out everything about me yet.
Something thumped against the traps around me. They clattered forward, spilling over the tracker like trash thrown from a window.
“Looks like I got you,” Aylin said, heaving an armful of nets at her.
“Vyand?” a man yelled.
“Her—” she began.
I dumped more nets over her and cawed three times. Two more caws answered right away. The tracker was quiet for only a moment, then started screaming and thrashing about.
“Tangle her up,” I said.
Aylin helped me truss her up in the nets like a chicken on All Saints’ Day. The tracker’s screams turned to angry squeals and curses.
The