They reached the far corner of the enclave and discovered that the handful of oni they’d been chasing had backed into a dead end. The sekasha leapt forward, a whirlwind of blades, and moments later she was surrounded by dismembered bodies.
“They weren’t the main force,” Pony growled. “They were just a distraction. They took Jewel Tear out another way.”
Tinker felt like she was nine years old when Prince True Flame and Windwolf appeared. There she was, surrounded by the burning rubble of Ginger Wine’s enclave, with no rescued Jewel Tear to show for all the destruction.
“Beloved,” Windwolf ignored the ruin to focus on her. “Are you hurt?”
And that’s one of the reasons she loved him so much. He understood the important part of this mess. “No.” She dropped her shield, suddenly feeling bone weary, and let him wrap his arms around her. It felt wonderful to lean on his strength, knowing he would make everything right.
Obviously the prince wasn’t going to ignore the fact that she had just leveled an enclave. He was staring down at her with an odd expression. “She was maintaining a Stone Clan shield.”
As Stormsong had pointed out with her limited edition T-shirt, things wear out. Usually not so spectacularly. .
“My right hand is broken,” Tinker offered as an excuse.
Windwolf tightened his hold on her. “The Wind esva doesn’t have shields cast by the left hand.”
“It was Stone Clan esva.” True Flame’s tone demanded an answer.
Oh gods, all this burning rubble and dead bodies, and they were going to argue about that? “One of my ancestors was an elf. Apparently he was a Stone Clan domana.”
The prince glared at Windwolf. “You changed the domana of another clan?”
If Tinker hadn’t been pressed against him, she would have missed Windwolf’s anger. He stood quietly, only the tension of his body betraying him. Finally he calmly said, “Her grandfather died of old age before he was out of his doubles. If I hadn’t changed her, she would have had the lifespan of a human.”
“She was a child of another clan.” True Flame stressed the word “child.”
“She was an adult by human counting,” Wolf snapped. “Her family made no attempt to contact the Stone Clan. The ties were severed.”
“She called their Spell Stones,” True Flame said.
“You told me to protect my Hand!” Tinker cried. “Protect the ones that serve! They would have all died if I’d let them come here alone. I did what I had to do to protect them.”
Judging by the annoyance on True Flame’s face and his silence, she’d found the argument that he couldn’t reply to. It was the fundamental basis of the entire elf culture: that obedience demanded protection. Tinker would have felt triumphant over the win if she hadn’t just snapped out the first thing that came to her. How could she feel so tired after sleeping all day? Almost in answer, pain flared through her right arm. Oh, yes, the damn healing spells.
Someone started to scream nearby. The fact that the screamer was male made the sound more horrific.
“That’s Forest Moss,” True Flame said.
They found the one-eyed domana crouched in the blood of one of Jewel Tear’s sekasha. Forest Moss was holding out his bloody hands and screaming. The female sekasha had been shot in the face at close range. In Tinker’s dream, she had been Stormsong. Tiger Eye was in his bed just beyond the female’s body, his spine cut. Judging by the blood splatter, he’d been paralyzed by the blow, helpless as his lifeblood pumped out.
Tinker completely understood the need to scream. She turned to hug Pony close. “In my dream, it was you and Stormsong.”
“You are hurt and tired,” Pony murmured only loud enough for her to hear. “Let me take you back home.”
It didn’t seem right to leave the mess for Windwolf to clean up, but she could feel the healing spell taking its toll. In a matter of minutes, she’d be asleep, regardless of her standing upright or lying down. Besides, what was the point of her staying? She’d already leveled the place and failed to stop the oni.
24: SCAPEGOAT
The Wyvern washed into the warren like a flood of blood.
Tommy shouted, “Don’t fight! Don’t fight!” A moment later, he was on the floor, in too much pain to focus his mind and heart hammering with fear for his family. Had the elves decided to fuck it all and kill them anyhow?
His family was all so used to having the snot beat of them that even the smallest just lay silent where they were pinned to the floor. The only reason he knew they weren’t dead was their fearful breathing and that there was no smell of blood in the air — yet.
The scrape of boots announced that the true powers had entered the warren.
Prince True Flame was a schoolgirl’s wet dream of an elf, from golden hair to skin that looked carved from white marble. He was dressed in spotless white.
Prince True Flame came to tower over Tommy. “Where is she?”
“Where is who?” Had Tinker disappeared again? God forbid, since the world turned upside down every time she did.
“The Stone Clan domi Jewel Tear on Stone. Where is she?”
“I don’t know!” Tommy shouted.
“True Flame.” Windwolf blocked the prince’s kick to Tommy’s head. “We have no proof that they had anything to do with it.”
“He has his father’s powers.” True Flame glared down at Tommy.
“I told you, his powers are limited.” Windwolf stayed between Tommy and the prince. “Look around you. This is a household, not a camp of warriors fresh from battle.”
“They are oni spawn with no one trustworthy standing responsible for their actions. They refuse your protection, so they are not part of us.”
“They do not trust us, and if this is how we treat them with no proof to support an attack, then they have full right to mistrust us.”
They searched for proof. They were thorough but strangely neat about it. The oni would have broken everything as they searched, but when the elves were done, nothing seemed disturbed.
“What’s going on?” Tommy growled into the battered floor.
“Ginger Wine’s enclave was attacked. Jewel Tear was taken,” Windwolf said.
“And you suspect us?”
“The oni clouded the minds of the sekasha and took them unawares.”
And Tommy was one of the few people in Pittsburgh that had the ability, but he wasn’t the only one. “The oni had a kitsune. She’s better at the mind tricks than I am.”
“Yes, so my domi tells me.”
Windwolf trusted Tommy, but obviously he wasn’t top dog in Pittsburgh anymore. Prince True Flame was now the one that said who lived and died. The half-oni had fallen into an “all or nothing” category. If the elves decided Tommy was guilty of helping the oni, then all his cousins would be ruled guilty, too. It would be a quick slaughter.
He needed to get the elves away from his warren so his family could disappear. “Let me help find her.”
Windwolf’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You want to help?”
“No one knows Pittsburgh better than me. I need to go to Ginger Wine’s, though, where it all started.”
“It’s a Wind Clan enclave. I can grant you access to it.” Windwolf motioned to the soldiers pinning Tommy down.
Tommy carefully freed his eight-year-old cousin, Spot, and tucked the small boy under his arm. “Spot has a better nose than me. He might be able to smell something out.”