“You’re going to clean me out of my imaginary millions.”
“I’m up by three hundred big ones, by my count. You’re not paying attention.”
No, she was too busy worrying.
Rule had found her already. She’d felt him draw close, then linger in one spot perhaps a hundred yards away. And then he’d left. He’d left a very long time ago.
He needed to plan, she told herself. Whatever he planned might take time to pull together. That made sense. The long delay did not mean something had happened to him. He was alive; she knew that much.
But wouldn’t Kun Nu enjoy having a second hostage to use against Lily? Wouldn’t she relish the shock as she dumped Rule’s unconscious body in the little prison with Lily and Cynna?
Lily pushed to her feet. “I’m not good at waiting. I’m not good at not doing something. I’m going to do some stretches.”
“That’s part of Bird Woman’s plan, making us wait. Making you wait, I should say,” Cynna said matter-of-factly as she gathered the cards again. “She doesn’t care if I get antsy and jumpy, but she’s hoping you do.”
“I know. I still need to move.”
There was one small open space of floor between the bunks and the cot. Lily lay down there, trying to focus on her body and breath. She stretched her arms over her head.
The earth groaned. And twitched.
It was a quiet sound, almost a grumbling, as if the rocks around them had a minor complaint—one they threw off with a little shudder Lily felt all along her body.
She looked at Cynna and saw the fear in her friend’s eyes, a fear that matched her own. Then, determinedly, she began her yoga stretches.
This was the third time they’d heard the noise. The third time the earth had trembled. The first time it happened, Lily had been hit by the irrational hope that the little shudder might somehow mean help was coming, even though she knew Rule wasn’t near.
Cynna’s guess was more likely. “Is it her?” she’d whispered. “Is she pulling a shake, rattle, and roll on us?” Lily had had no trouble figuring out what she meant. The Chimei might well be causing mini-quakes to scare them.
If so, she’d hit on a great technique. There was a crack in one wall now, up near the ceiling. Dust sifted down from that crack as Lily brought her knees to her chest.
It was also possible that the little tremors had nothing to do with them or the Chimei. This was California. Quakes happened.
LIKE any war, this one involved a good deal of waiting.
It was after midnight. Rule lay flat on his stomach in the dirt, taking advantage of the cover offered by scrubby growth at the edge of a small woods—sage and bindweed and some kind of sedge, their scents mingling with that of the tiny white flowers on a struggling toyon bush.
Also with the scent of the hamburgers the gang members had grilled earlier, and that of the other lupi hiding, as he was, in the weeds and grasses around a dilapidated house just outside the city. One of them lay very near Rule—one who must be finding this wait extremely difficult. Cullen often said he was not a patient man.
The clouds had moved off, the moon was three-quarters full, and Rule could see his targets clearly. From Rule’s vantage point he could see the side of the house, some of the front yard, and most of the back—if you could call bare dirt a yard. The house they watched had probably been abandoned for years before its current occupants moved in. If not, someone had liked living rough. The roof had fallen in on one side. There was a porch light out front and two floodlights in back—the floodlights apparently so the gang members could see to play cards and drink beer.
Sixteen were in view now. There were thirty-six altogether. Four of the others were patrolling the area immediately around the house, though with their limited senses it didn’t do them much good. The rest were sleeping in the more intact part of the house.
Thirty-six armed gangbangers against a dozen lupi warriors and one sorcerer. Good odds, especially since the lupi wearing charms were Benedict’s best. The obvious move was to kill the sentries silently, then shoot the ones drinking and playing cards outside from a safe distance, then go in and clean up the sleepers. Nasty, but obvious.
Also disastrous. The place was warded to hell and gone. One of those wards, the outer one, was made to repel small objects like mosquitoes or bullets.
Fortunately, getting in the house wasn’t the goal, unless things went wrong. Lily wasn’t there.
Rule’s mate sense wasn’t as strong as Lily’s, or maybe he wasn’t as good at reading it as she was. But from this close, it was crystal clear. He knew exactly where she was . . . roughly twenty feet behind the house, and at least that far underground.
He took some comfort from her nearness, even as he swore silently at the wait. He hoped she took comfort in knowing he was near, too—though she might well be cursing him for doing nothing for such a long time.
But this part wasn’t his to do. Only, dammit, if they didn’t hurry, the Chimei and her lover would be back, and then—
Cullen poked his side. He looked at his friend, who was still pale. He wasn’t healed, wasn’t ready for this, but they needed him. Which was just as well. Needed or not, he would have come.
Cullen tipped his chin to their right.
A small, gray-skinned head poked up out of the dirt ten feet away. It was hairless and too round, but had the appropriate number of eyes with a single nose placed between them and the mouth. But the nose was somewhere between pug and snout, the chin was missing, and the eyes were too large altogether.
The gnome looked around, blinking, until he saw Rule, then heaved himself up out of the ground. Only after he left it could Rule see that there was, indeed, a hole there.
He trotted over to them. He was wearing fuchsia shorts with yellow suspenders. “Is having troubles,” he whispered. “Granite upcropping. Hard to work with, is. Stubborn.”
Rule spoke in a voice too soft too carry—not truly subvocalizing, though, because gnomes’ hearing was as limited as humans’. “You told me about the granite an hour ago.”
“Is stubborn, granite,” he repeated, his big eyes blinking. Gnomes in this realm lived underground, and this youngster seemed to be one who was adapted for darkness. “Is also problem of ward. Very good ward someone is building. Max is saying to telling of you, thirty minutes maybe. Maybe less, maybe more. Is having go slow. Reshaping too much, too fast, and ward is triggering, rock collapsing.”
That was almost exactly what he’d said the last time he popped up to give them a progress report. Rule held on to what remained of his patience. The little gnome was someone’s nephew—one of the elders, he thought. The elders who were currently repaying a debt by tunneling through stone to reach the bomb shelter behind the house.
The gnomish elders could move rock magically—and they could do it without triggering the ward. “Thank you. If you would give the Rho that information, I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”
Blink, blink. “Where is he being?”
“The same place he was the last time you brought us a report. Over by the large boulder you admired.”
The little fellow gave a single nod and trotted off.
Rule settled down to wait.
Tonight’s mission was to get Lily and Cynna out. Get them to safety. Ideally, they would do that without a fight, for the Chimei and the sorcerer weren’t here. Sam had claimed he could lure them away, and he’d been right. When Rule led Max and Cullen to this house, the Chimei and her lover had been gone.
That was early in the afternoon, around one. More than eleven hours ago. Max had brought the elders, and they’d been working ever since. Tunneling toward the bomb shelter. Slowly.
Faster than anyone else could do it, Rule reminded himself. Certainly no one else could do it as secretly as the gnomes. And as hard as the waiting was, every hour the Chimei and sorcerer didn’t come was another hour closer to getting Lily and Cynna out. Another hour, too, for Cullen to heal. At this point, every hour of healing helped.