Good. Tommy wasn’t immune to her powers. “How recent?”
Spot held up both hands to measure out a long time. The oni must have driven straight to the station and boarded a train just as it left. The oni were hours in front of them.
Tommy didn’t bother to ask how many oni — Spot was still having trouble counting past five.
So he was right that the oni were using the train to travel far out of Pittsburgh in large numbers. Yay, him; out in the frigging nowhere with a pistol and an eight-year-old. Somehow this didn’t seem like a smart plan.
Tommy considered the river and the far bank. The brush screened the area beyond now, but the leaves were already turning color with the approaching autumn. It was only a matter of time before all the leaves came down, leaving the far bank exposed. The oni camp was probably miles south from the track so there was no chance of it being discovered by train work crews. Hopefully it was far enough out that no one had heard his engine. This was as far as he could go on his hoverbike, though, without bringing the oni down on his head.
He turned in a full circle, looking for a place to hide the big bike. Someplace where the oni wouldn’t see it or stumble over it or even find it easily if they were looking. There were niches in the cliff running alongside the tracks. He could pop up and land on one of the larger ledges.
Spot tried to scramble back up onto the hoverbike when Tommy restarted the bike.
“No, stay here. I’ll be back.”
Spot gave him big hurt puppy-dog eyes but backed off. Tommy took the bike around the bend of the hill until he found a likely ledge. He raced the engine and then, dropping all power to the lift chain, popped up onto the wide shelf. Shutting down the motor, he unflattened the brush that he crashed through until the bike was screened from a casual glance.
Spot wriggled with joy when he saw Tommy trotting back down the track toward him. His cheeks were wet with silent tears.
“I told you I’d be back.” Tommy patted the boy on the head as Spot hugged him tight. “I need you to be a big boy. No crying.”
Spot nodded, rubbing his face dry against Tommy’s shirt.
They had to go quietly and carefully. The band of oni had fanned out, taking various trails so that none would be too heavily traveled. After the second ridge, two miles south from the river, they rejoined on one well-worn path. Five miles farther south, another wide trail crossed it.
Half-oni or not, Spot was still just eight. He couldn’t hike all day. Tommy detoured to the nearest hilltop where he could keep an eye on the path. Spot curled up beside Tommy and tossed and turned exactly enough to get his head into Tommy’s lap before falling asleep.
Tommy sighed, shaking his head, but didn’t bother to push Spot off. The only affection that the boy was ever going to get was from his own family. As he got older, even that would be less and less often.
While Spot slept, Tommy considered the crossroads. Where did the east-west path lead? It seemed to be running parallel to the distant train track. Was it simply that the oni had multiple stops where they could get on and off the train? It would be comforting to think so, because it meant he wouldn’t be caught between two oni forces if they continued south. There was only one train in and one train out every day, and both had passed through this area hours ago. If the east-west path led to other camps, though, there could be oni coming and going all day and even into the night. He considered heading back to Pittsburgh, but what would he say? He’d found a path?
After twenty minutes of resting, he shook Spot awake and they continued south. Another ten miles and two longer breaks, and they came to a second crossroad. Dusk was falling and Spot was starting to stagger. He lifted his head, nose working.
Tommy crouched down beside Spot and sniffed. Wood smoke lightly scented the air. They were getting close. “Follow me.”
Spot nodded, eyes wide. He might not be able to count, but he understood the danger of tracking the oni.
Tommy veered off the well-beaten path on the valley floor to push through the thick laurel that covered the steep hillside. At points they had to scramble up rock walls. When they reached the hilltop, he motioned to Spot to keep belly down on the ground. Tommy moved forward in a crouch along the ridgeline until he came to a drop-off.
In the valley below was a massive ironwood fort and beyond it hundreds of tents. Thousands of oni moved through the dusk. He could make out hundreds of cages holding muzzled wargs. In the far south of the camp, there was a huge pen. Whatever was caged there roared, the noise echoing up the valley like distant thunder.
“Shit,” Tommy whispered.
Spot tapped his shoulder and pointed off to the west. There was a faint smoke haze between them and the setting sun. Another camp lay beyond the hill. The path heading west from the crossroad seemed to lead toward it. Judging by the smoke, the western camp was probably as big as the camp just to the south. Tommy turned and studied the eastern horizon. Darkness was already spreading over the land, and light from campfires in a third site gleamed off a haze of smoke.
There weren’t thousands of oni hidden in the forest — there were tens of thousands. And somewhere, down in the spreading darkness, was one female elf.
28: TEA AND CRUMPETS
How do you fight your shadow?
Tinker sat in the courtyard, staring down at her shadow. Around her, the sekasha prowled, restless but silent as caged tigers. The wind moved through the peach trees, stirring the branches. She watched the play of light move over her shadow, thinking of Providence.
The dragons had somehow evolved two different levels of existence. There was the body that lived and breathed. Their minds — no, not mind — awareness? Soul? Whatever made up moral conscious thought — that existed beyond their bodies. Jin had warned her that dragon bodies could operate on autopilot without their minds guiding their actions. “Lights are on, but no one’s home.” It was disturbing to know that their minds could continue too, without the body still alive. And yet wasn’t that the whole thing with the elf cremation? To free the spirit of the dead body so it could move on to heaven?
She had tried to get details from Providence about what the Skin Clan planned, but he merely told her that she’d be fighting her shadow.
She held out her hand and studied the dark fingers on the ground. What did the dragon mean by that?
Shadow knows what you’re doing because you block the light, telegraphing intention. Actions cause reaction.
Tinker squinted up at the morning sun. Light created the shadow. The absence of light meant there was no shadow. Could that actually be counted as fighting it? Considering the dragon’s dual existence, what if the shadow continued to exist in total darkness? What if you could only see it because of the light? Without light, you would no longer be aware of the shadow’s reaction. But then again, the shadow wouldn’t be connected to you anymore, and it wouldn’t be aware of your actions. In darkness, a fight would become a two-way blindman’s bluff.
Tinker sighed. She was wasting time with the metaphysical. She would be better off dealing with science. Good hard numbers. So far, Oilcan’s kids were the only clue to what the Skin Clan planned. By now Lain should have the preliminary findings on the children’s DNA.
Of course, there was the small problem of how to get the information. Her cell phone had been toasted in the Rolls-Royce explosion.
Fate was determined to reduce her down to the Stone Age.
Tinker stood up. “I want to go see Lain.”
“Are you sure?” Pony continued to pace restlessly. “Prince True Flame has taken many of the Wyverns with him, and all the other Hands have gone with Wolf.”