The Spirit Rebellion(117)
“Well, look at it this way,” Eli said. “Now that you’re out, those rings are the only power this Hern fellow has over you. He’s certainly not going to risk them on something trivial.”
“Oh, that’s comforting,” Miranda said, bending low on Gin’s back. But the thief had a point. They couldn’t turn around, not without getting killed. She didn’t like it, but for now she’d get out, maybe try and make contact with the West Wind, get some backup. Maybe she could get word to Banage. Even if it came from an exile, the Spirit Court couldn’t ignore something like this, and then the duke would really have something to worry about. Of course, she thought as she ducked under a shop sign that was swinging wildly at her head, they’d have to get out first.
Gin hopped over a low shed, and suddenly they were at the wall, still stretched to an impossible height and bristling with spikes. They ran along it, looking for some sign of Josef and Nico, a bashed-in bit of wall, some knocked-out guards, anything, but there was nothing. Gin slowed, panting, and sniffed the air.
“No good,” he growled. “Neither the swordsman nor the girl has been anywhere near this place for hours.”
“They’ve got to be somewhere,” Eli said, looking around frantically. “It’s not like Josef to be late for anything.”
“Well, something must have happened,” Gin snapped back, “because he’s not here, and we shouldn’t be much longer. This city’s on the verge of tearing itself apart trying to do that man’s bidding. I’d hate to see what it’d do to us.”
“Wait,” Miranda said suddenly, her eyes bright. “Hold on, you just gave me an idea.” She stood up on the dog’s back, looking out over the dark city. The streets glowed, some with lampposts, some with torch light from the pursuing guards, but in the distance, the river glittered dark and slow, strangely peaceful in the light of the half moon.
“Gin,” she said, “we’re going back to our first plan.”
“What?” he said, then he paused. “Oh, I get you.”
Miranda nodded. “Take us to the river.”
“The river?” Eli cried as Gin launched himself back the way they had come. “Are you mad? The river’s at the center of the mess we’re trying to get out of!”
“You want to solve a problem,” Miranda said, “you start at the top. Now be quiet.” She jerked the chain holding them together. “Prisoners shouldn’t talk this much.”
The elder Monpress laughed at that and tipped his head to Miranda, who smiled back. Eli, seeing he was getting nowhere with these people, folded his arms over his chest and focused on not falling off as Gin wove a crazy path down to the river.
The Duke of Gaol stood on his battlements, shouting orders to his spirits as the lampposts signaled the ghosthound’s position. They had reached the wall already, but were turning back, probably realizing they were trapped.
Good, he thought. Let them scramble. He had other problems at the moment, starting with the one standing directly beside him.
“For the last time, Hern,” Edward said, “go back to your tower.”
Beside him, Hern went pale with anger, gripping the battlements with clenched fingers. “I will not,” he said. “You promised me, Edward! You promised to keep that girl locked up, and then you go and throw her together with Monpress? What were you thinking?”
“If anyone should be angry, it’s me.” He glared at the Spiritualist. “Helping you almost cost me my thief. If I hadn’t taken precautions by keeping the city secure on multiple levels, both of our quarries would have flown by now. So save your bluster for your Court and kindly get out of my way. In case you haven’t noticed, I have other problems besides Monpress slipping his leash.”
As if on cue, a wind rose up from the south, and he turned to meet it.
“Othril,” he said when he felt the wind on his face. “Report.”
“The south docks are in a full demon panic,” the wind said quickly. “Big one, too, though not as flashy as the treasury. I put up a quarantine as you ordered. Not even a cockroach is going to cross the boundary without your say-so. That should contain the panic somewhat, but you know we can’t keep a lid on these things for long.”
“We won’t need to,” Edward said. “This is a ploy by Monpress, a distraction for his escape. Now that he’s out, it should be calming down.”
Hern shook his head. “What kind of reckless idiot uses a demon panic to cover his escape?”
“When you hunt Monpress, you must be prepared for everything,” Edward said. “Othril, follow Monpress and the Spiritualist girl. Now that they’ve realized the wall is trapped, they might try the river.”