Providence had claimed that the Skin Clan had used a dragon to create the sekasha. The children were descended from “brothers” of the sekasha? If the caste was considered flawed, why did the Skin Clan want the children? What abilities had the Emperor been trying to breed into the naelinsanota?
“Why were they considered unclean while the sekasha are holy?” Tinker asked.
“Because of their mothers.” Lemonseed blushed and looked down at the ground. “The Soulless One had developed a spell in which a child would be produced within a female’s womb without her having sex. It has never been clear if the resulting child was the mother’s flesh and blood, or if she was merely a vessel for another’s child. He tested it first using wargs — he was trying to make a creature strictly for war.” Lemonseed waved her hands as she floundered. “The offspring looked like elves. Many did not survive their births. They were eaten by their beast mothers.”
“Gods,” Tinker breathed.
“When he saw he could make elves with the god’s essence, he used filintau-caste to bear the children.”
The filintau were “the clean folk.” The caste had been created to be a pure breeding stock, free of defects. Apparently the mother’s “purity” was enough to affect how the other elves saw the offspring.
Still, how did you even take something like Impatience, render it down, and produce an elf born to a beast? Tinker couldn’t imagine the level of knowledge on gene manipulation that the Skin Clan had to possess. Even the horrific twisting of the oni didn’t compare.
Her new cell phone started to play “Sky Diving”—Blue Sky’s ringtone.
“What is it, Blue?” Tinker answered her phone.
“Everyone is gone, and someone’s here.” Blue’s voice was thin with fear. “I think it’s oni.”
“What? Where are you?”
“Sacred Heart. Someone just broke down the door.”
“Get to the safe room!”
“We can’t! They’re downstairs and we’re upstairs.”
She was running toward the door, aware that warriors were sweeping up behind her. Her mind was racing through the school’s layout. The bedroom doors had frosted glass inset into wooden frames. Only the restrooms had solid doors. “Go to one of the restrooms and barricade yourself in.”
“The toilets or the bathing room?”
It doesn’t matter, she almost wailed and then realized it did. “The bathing room!”
Judging by the shouts and screams and sudden gunfire, Blue Sky had the other kids with him and a gun. Where was Oilcan? Where were Forge and his Hands? There should be a horde of sekasha between the kids and the oni!
There was an awful possibility that the oni didn’t need or want the children alive. Maybe body parts were sufficient, or maybe they would rather that the kids were dead than have Tinker able to discover what was different about them.
“Tinker!” Blue cried over the phone. “They’re breaking down the door!”
“The chute! Come down the chute!”
She waved Pony to head into the school as she detoured to the construction chute. The boxed-in slide slanted down the side of the building, leading from the third-story bathroom to where the dumpster had been parked. What were the numbers of “soft?” She dropped her phone and cast the spell, praying she remembered the fingering chart correctly.
A moment later Baby Duck came shrieking down the slide and landed in soft, yielding nothingness.
“No, no!” Tinker used her foot to block the screaming little female’s attempt to climb her. “I’ve got to catch the others. Someone get her!”
One of the laedin caught hold of Baby Duck and was, in turn, frantically scaled until the little female was latched tight around the warrior’s neck.
Tinker tried to ignore the sudden outbreak of gunfire as Pony led the elves into the school house.
Rustle slid down the chute next, quiet and white. He stumbled to his feet and turned to catch hold of Merry as she slid down to safety. They clung to each other.
Tinker wanted Oilcan’s kids safe and sound, but it was Blue Sky she desperately wanted on the ground beside her. The little idiot would probably wait until last — his father’s genes wouldn’t let him go any earlier. The sound of open warfare came from the school. Cattail appeared, then Barley, but no baby sekasha. “Blue!” There was an explosion above. “Blue!”
And then he was there, safe. She canceled the spell so she could hug him tight. “Idiot!”
She was aware of royal troops arriving, summoned too late by the gunfire and explosion. The kids would have been taken if not for Blue Sky. Half of the troops rushed into Sacred Heart while the rest spread out, flooding the area with red. “Where is Oilcan?”
“I don’t know. We were watching Rocky Horror Picture Show and the dog suddenly started growling.”
The elfhound puppy, Repeat, wasn’t accounted for, either. She could guess its fate — elfhounds were prized because of their courage and selfless loyalty. They were just as bad as sekasha in regard to dying for the ones they loved. She tightened her hold on Blue Sky, reassuring herself that he was fine.
The gunfire stopped. All the oni were most likely dead.
It still left the mystery of what the oni wanted with the kids and where all the adults had gone. Had the oni intended to take the kids or just kill them? Did the oni manufacture some emergency that pulled the adults away? Or had Forge stolen Oilcan, whisking him off to Easternlands? But why would he leave the kids helpless? Tinker swore as she realized she couldn’t question the oni.
She turned to study the faire grounds, and her heart leapt up her throat. Three gossamers drifted above the field, waiting to be tied off at the anchors. All the gondolas were Stone Clan black but edged with red and green. None of them were Forge’s gossamer, but she’d been asleep for hours before she cornered Lemonseed. “Did Forge’s ship come and go while I was sleeping?”
Stormsong shook her head. “No, it didn’t. Forge could have taken Oilcan on the train. Do not worry, domi. The train goes only to Wind Clan holdings. We could use the distant voice to have them detained.”
Pony returned, thankfully unharmed. His anger showed clearly on his face. “They did not leave Pittsburgh. Iron Mace’s Hand has only their primary weapons. Forge’s Hands took all their field weapons, but their shipping crates are here.”
Obviously then, Forge hadn’t gone far, but he didn’t plan to return soon.
Thorne Scratch came pushing her way through the Wyverns and Wind Clan forces, a lone black mote in the wash of blue and red.
“Where is my cousin?” Tinker cried. “Where are Forge and Iron Mace? Why wasn’t there anyone here with the children?”
Thorne Scratch blinked at her, confused, and then looked up at the school and then back to the children. “They were here when I left. I was just down the street. Why would they leave?”
Tinker wasn’t going to get anything useful out of Thorne Scratch. She snatched up her phone.
She tried Oilcan’s number first. “Godzilla of Pittsburgh” started to play in the grass nearby. She let out a cry of hurt as she spotted Oilcan’s phone lying in the weeds. She hung up and called Riki.
Riki answered his phone on the first ring. “How can I serve you, domi?”
“Tell me that you have eyes on Oilcan.”
“I did,” he said cautiously.