Something pulled me down like a net drawn tight. I cursed myself as much as him, and I could feel the spell digging into me the same way the floor of the bone church had tried to do. I snatched at the ivory lines of the trap that I could now see inched in bones between the cracks of the white paving stones. This was plainly some work of Rui’s and I hadn’t seen it. Purlis had done an expert job of maneuvering me and keeping my attention on him, not on a potential pitfall. I ripped a piece of the spell out, but that left me with no better escape route.
I struggled toward the deepest layers of the Grey, down near the Grid where energy rules and the world devolves to wire frames of light and color in the void of physical matter. I could see it, but I was unable to drop any farther than the most superficial layer, my physical form refusing to sink or soften into the realms of mist and shadow that lie just outside of normal. It felt as if my own body were holding me back and my every move toward the Grid made me ache in every bone and joint. Usually I travel through the realm of ghosts and shadows securely housed in the armor of my physical body. However tiring it is, my ability to bestride all three planes—the normal, the paranormal, and the Grey—intact and whole is my one unique attribute. Everything else I can do or see or experience is within the power of someone or something else, as well. That ability is what defines me as a Greywalker—and now I couldn’t do it.
I knew, much as it galled me, that I could lie struggling on the sidewalk, growing colder in the grip of Rui’s bones and exhausting myself, or I could give up, save my energy, and hope to find another way to extract myself from the situation later. Not a great choice, but there was no better alternative and prisoner is still a better position than corpse. I didn’t think Purlis or Rui—wherever he was—cared which they got.
I let go and was yanked back into the normal world. I slumped on the sidewalk as if my own bones were water.
“Welcome back,” Purlis said, looking insufferable. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t help you to your feet.”
“No,” I muttered, unable to raise my voice any louder. “You’re unforgivable.”
“You’ve an interesting set of talents. It’s a pity we have to be enemies.”
“Who says we have to?” I asked.
“You don’t like me and I can’t trust you. . . .”
“Oh, but we won’t be enemies forever. Eventually one of us is going to be dead.” I found I was looking forward to it, since I had a much better chance of giving death the slip than Purlis had.
Purlis chuckled in spite of his physical discomfort as people who were obviously working for him converged on our position. “True. And sooner rather than later, I suspect.”
He limped away as his team encircled me, hiding my strange, crushed posture from public sight. In a moment, Rui Araújo parted the circle and stood looking down at me. He seemed pleased, the red spikes in his aura jumping. He made a small gesture, murmured a word in Portuguese, and the force pulling me to the ground vanished.
I unfolded and stood slowly, wincing more than was strictly necessary, brushing the dirt off my dress and a few drops of blood off my abraded knees. He watched me with eyes brighter than one would expect of someone who had to be more than two hundred fifty years old. The penetrating quality of his gaze was disconcerting. I stood still and looked back at him, saying nothing, doing nothing.
Rui studied me a few moments longer. “You are not injured,” he said. His voice was at odds with his appearance, low and soft, moving slowly, but not old at all, rather the opposite. He also had clear English, but a strong Portuguese accent and though there was nothing unpleasant in his tone, I felt like I was listening to a scorpion discussing the pros and cons of stinging me to death.
“You can’t possibly know,” I replied.
“No broken bones, no cracks, or bruises. Old injuries only. And a few scrapes on the skin,” he added with a shrug and a dismissive snort. “I see everything.” He pointed as he continued. “Feet, leg, knees, hip, spine, ribs, wrist, shoulder, neck, nose. What interesting scars your bones have.”
“I used to fall down a lot.”
“I see two . . . three that could have killed you.”
“I also bounce.”
“So I see. Come.”
He beckoned and I discovered I had no choice. The men and women encircling us stepped aside and flowed out into the crowd again, but I followed jerkily after Rui like a reluctant pet on a leash, whether I liked it or not. I could resist and strain, which slowed my movement down, but didn’t stop me; it only made me tired and sore. This could be a problem. I tilted my head and peered at the space between us through the Grey. A fine net of white lines ran from Rui’s hands to various positions on my body and he towed me along like a badly strung puppet. There were a lot of them, but, individually, the lines wouldn’t be much to break when I had the luxury. I just didn’t at the moment. I guessed that he had literal control of my skeleton—probably created while I was in his trap where the bits of his ivory spell had burrowed toward my bones. I could oppose him, but the force of magic overcame the force of my currently weak muscles. I was still a bit on the anemic side after what had happened with Carlos and I didn’t have the stamina to bother resisting more than necessary, especially if I meant to break away when a better chance arrived.
“Where are we going?” I asked, walking along of my own accord now.
He relaxed a little and let me catch up to him. “Ah, you’re being reasonable. Purlis said you would not. I disagreed. At my temple, you did nothing that was excessive or impulsive—unlike your companions. You understand when you are beaten.”
I said nothing and Rui seemed to think that meant I agreed with him. He pointed ahead to a silver car with dark-tinted windows. “We shall take a ride. I have many questions for you.”
“Will you be upset if I don’t answer them?”
“Perhaps not answering them will be the answer.”
There was a man behind the wheel of the car. Rui waited while I got into the backseat. He got into the front and the locks clicked down, leaving no manual lock buttons or levers for me to toy with. There was still the opening above the front seats that I could have reached over to wreak some havoc, but the arithmetic of whom to take out first and if I would survive it was trickier than I liked. And there was the option of digging through the seat’s back into the trunk, but it wasn’t viable in this situation—I’d be shot or enchanted before I could get past the center armrest. I sat still and waited for Rui to ask his questions.
“What are you?” he asked, looking at me in the vanity mirror. I could see his eyes and the back of his head, but not much else from where I sat behind him.
Funny: I now expect every magic-user and paranormal I meet to know what I do in the Grey, because Carlos and a few others nailed it even before I knew, myself. But, in fact, most have no idea such a thing as me exists and they don’t need to. If they want help that I can give, they seem to find me on their own. I frowned and blinked at Rui. “I’m a licensed private investigator.”
Rui glared and I saw his shoulders tense. My ribs seemed to collapse inward as if a giant fist were crushing my chest. Breath gushed out of my lungs and I clapped both hands over my mouth to stifle my scream. It felt as if my guts were being squeezed up through my throat. I was dizzy and thought I was going to vomit. Then the pressure vanished, though it took several seconds for me to refill my lungs, fighting the gripping pain as my ribs and intercostal muscles moved back into their accustomed positions.
“Don’t toy with me,” he said, his eyes looking back from the mirror crinkled at the edges as if he were smiling. “I can break every bone in your body, individually or all at once, as I choose. I do not need your bones for my work.”