From across the room, Bingo gave him puzzled look and murmured, “What are you doing?”
They’d found out long ago that if they whispered without moving their mouths, their extra-sharp ears would pick it up without them being overheard.
“Move the warren,” Tommy whispered back.
“What about you?” Bingo asked.
“I’ll get them away from here so you can disappear.”
“Tommy. .”
“Do it.” Tommy hissed.
Bingo hung his head and looked away.
All three TV channels had their news trucks outside of Ginger Wine’s smoldering enclave. Under bright mobile spotlights, the reporters were recording the human take on the night’s activities. They were making a big fuss over the fact that the dead oni were being stacked like cordwood on the curb. Didn’t they know that the oni fed their dead to their dogs?
Tommy used the brilliance and shadows to stay hidden from the reporters as he slipped through Ginger Wine’s front gate. A full battle had been pitched inside the enclave. Half the buildings were leveled, the ruins still smoldering. Empty bullet casings brightly littered the ground, and blood was sprayed across the walls. It was going to be hard to find anything useful in the rubble.
The elves frightened Spot. When Tommy put him down, the boy clung to Tommy’s hand. Spot was silent as usual, but his solid amber eyes drank in every detail. The elves shied away from them, trying not to look at the boy’s short black fur, doglike muzzle and long, floppy ears. Spot had his mother’s sweetness; he didn’t deserve the frightened glances.
“We need to track the oni.” Tommy kept the anger out of his voice — it wasn’t the boy he was angry with. “You understand?”
Spot nodded wordlessly and crouched down to sniff at the gleaming wooden floors. Hands flat on the ground, he half ran in circles around Tommy, trying to make sense out of the confusion of scents. Windwolf, Ginger Wine, and the viceroy’s bodyguards stood back, silently watching the boy track.
Spot picked his way through the maze of the enclaves. The oni had avoided the great inner courtyard, instead working their way through almost all of the back passages that the staff used to access the guest rooms. All but one of the dead elves had been killed unaware, not that it lessened the carnage done to their bodies. Oni were like sharks when it came to blood; once they smelled it, they went a little mad. Unarmed members of Ginger Wine’s staff and several of her laedin-caste guards had been hacked apart in hallways and public rooms. Eight of the sekasha been killed in their bedrooms. Obviously the oni had moved unseen and unheard through the enclave. No wonder the elves suspected him.
The boy suddenly veered off to a little back room stacked with baskets, rakes, and snow shovels. Tucked in the very back, hidden from a casual search of the room, was a bed complete with goose-down pillows, silk sheets, and rich wool blankets. Apples, keva beans, and smoked river shark had been squirreled in easy reach of the luxurious bed. Even Tommy’s weak nose could identify the musky scent of a kitsune.
“Chiyo was living here.” Tommy nudged two baskets that were lined with towels. “Looks like she planned to have her litter here. She’s got another week or two before she’s due.”
Ginger Wine gasped and dropped to her knees. “I didn’t know, domou. Please. I didn’t know.”
“You came to me with your concerns weeks ago,” Windwolf said. “I should have investigated. This is not your fault.”
Tommy locked down on a bitter laugh. The elves got completely forgiven for housing an oni — not even yelled at — but his entire family was blamed for something they had nothing to do with.
The moon was rising as Spot followed the track to the side gate that gave cars and horses access to a barnlike outbuilding. The boy lost the scent there.
“They probably had a truck waiting.” Tommy patted the boy on the head and gave him an apple stolen from the courtyard. “At sixty miles per hour, they could be anywhere in Pittsburgh by now.”
Prince True Flame huffed. “I think they will take her west. There are no Spell Stones there. She will be helpless, as will we.”
“I’m not leaving the city,” Windwolf said quietly. “They almost killed my beloved yesterday. Her arm is broken, and she is — nearly — helpless. The healing spells will keep her weak for days.”
“Your domi will be safe in the enclave.”
Windwolf stood firm. “I have given up three hundred thousand sen of virgin forest to the Stone Clan, and what have they managed to do? Earth Son forced his Hand against him. Forest Moss has gone mad.” As if summoned by his name, the domana started to scream. “And now this idiocy. A single ground scry would have picked up the kitsune. Three Stone Clan domana, and not one checked the buildings they slept in? This is a war zone!”
“That is not how the Stone Clan will see this. They will see it as a failure on the Wind Clan’s part. You should have made sure that the enclave was safe.”
“You know that the wind scry couldn’t have found the kitsune. That was the whole point of requesting Stone Clan to send help.”
Prince True Flame glanced toward Tommy. “I will send word to my sister. She will have to deal with the Stone Clan somehow. We need more domana or we will fall here. The Stone Clan will want a scapegoat for this if we cannot recover Jewel Tear. They will want you, cousin, but I will offer them the oni spawn.”
They let him go. At first he was surprised, but then he realized that they wanted the Stone Clan to waste time trying to find him. So far the elves couldn’t find their ass with both hands. An elfin carpenter, however, was more thorough than a human one, because the elf had forever to hammer down nails. The Stone Clan would find Tommy eventually.
Prince True Flame had suggested that if they recovered Jewel Tear before the Stone Clan sent more domana, everything would be fine. Tommy wasn’t going to leave it to the elves to find the female.
He circled Ginger Wine’s, considering all he knew about Chiyo, the oni, and what he had seen in the smoldering enclave. Chiyo had disappeared the night Lord Tomtom had died. Tommy had heard that Kajo wanted the pregnant female for the whelping pens. The kitsune abilities allowed the fox-tainted oni to wield a great deal of political power despite their status of lesser bloods. Normally Kajo wouldn’t have been able to cage Chiyo, but with Pittsburgh stranded on Elfhome she was fair game. Much to his father’s annoyance, Kajo had ordered Chiyo turned over to the whelping pens and its experienced midwives. The rumor was that if the kitsune survived the birth of her oversized puppies, Kajo planned to endlessly bred Chiyo to his kennel of wargs.
Something messed with his timing, making him rush the attack. One thing the oni were good at was waiting for the perfect moment — immortality gave them infinite patience when it came to hunting. What triggered the attack? The timing seemed randomly chosen — like something a human running on clocks would pick instead of the timeless oni.
And why had Kajo taken Jewel Tear? To use her as bait so the elves ran in circles, screaming at each other? If that was his plan, it was working.
The biggest freaking problem with this so-called war was that Kajo was keeping one step in front of the elves. What Tommy needed was the elves find the oni so that both sides would forget about his family.
Where the hell was Kajo hiding his army?
Tommy had known of a handful of small camps within the city, but they’d all been abandoned after Tomtom’s attempt to kill Windwolf exposed the oni’s presence. It was one thing to hide in the city when oni were myths, but now the humans were in the middle of a war they couldn’t ignore. Pittsburgh was a sprawling, half-abandoned city, but filled with eyes. Sixty thousand humans meant someone would notice masses of oni eating and sleeping and shitting. Even the humans should be able to smell a nest in this heat.