“Do you think Mason’s still alive?” asked Victor as we walked along. Rather, they walked. I rode.
“I don’t think so,” Eli said. “But it’s possible. Remember, it wouldn’t have had to kill and consume Mason to do a good enough copy to fool us, at least for a while. It wouldn’t fool Lou, of course, but you’ll notice Lou is conveniently missing. Bertram will be able to get the answer.”
“Still, I would have never suspected. Are you positive?”
“Oh, I’m positive, all right. Remember, I saw his hands change when he thought I wasn’t looking. If not for that, he’d have fooled me, too. We’ve got the son of a bitch, all right.”
Saw my hands change? What the hell was he talking about? When had my hands changed? As usual, I was a little slow on the uptake, but in my defense it’s hard to think clearly when you’re trussed up, hanging upside down, and on your way to an “enhanced interrogation.”
What tipped it was simple, though. “Son of a bitch” was not a phrase I’d ever heard Eli use before, and there was a reason for that. It’s not a phrase he would ever use. A shape-shifter was present all right, but it wasn’t me.
The shape-shifter must have assumed Eli’s identity and used that guise to convince Victor it was me who had been replaced. You’d think after that phony phone call out at Hunters Point Victor would have been more skeptical, but apparently not.
One good thing, though-the shifter had used a phrase Eli never would have uttered. Which meant it hadn’t got him down quite right. Which meant Eli possibly hadn’t been killed-it was just aping him.
It was hard to see Victor clearly since my head was hanging upside down, but I was sure I saw a momentary stiffening. He’d picked up on that out-of-character phrase as well. The Eli shape-shifter might have temporarily fooled him, but Victor was no dummy. He hadn’t lived as long as he had by ignoring little things that seemed out of place.
The fake Eli seemed to sense he’d made a false step and went for a distraction. He eased me off his shoulder and dumped me roughly onto the sidewalk. Another atypical behavior that I hoped Victor would notice. I lay there among trash wrappers and unpleasant smells.
“Maybe we should search him,” Eli said. “He might be carrying something.”
Victor nodded and rolled me over so that I was facedown on the pavement and started going through my pockets. He took my folding knife, loose change, and then he came across those leaves I’d stuffed in my pocket. I’d forgotten all about them. He held them out to show to Eli.
“Here’s something interesting,” he said. “These leaves are unusual, and they’re sticky with dried blood.”
“Interesting. Have you got enough in your forensics bag to test them?”
Victor nodded again, but he didn’t look happy. Something was bothering him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. I made a couple of muffled grunts, trying to get his attention, but he ignored me.
He took off his fanny pack and moved out of my range of vision. A couple of minutes later, he walked back and handed the leaves to Eli.
“Not from this world,” he said. “No doubt about it.” How damning was that bit of evidence? Victor had no idea I’d been through the pool to another world. He turned to look at me, and his face was as hard as I’d ever seen it. “And the blood on them is from an Ifrit.” For a moment I thought he was going to shoot me right then and there, and so did he. I realized with surprise that he was fond of Lou in his own way.
“I can explain,” I said, desperately. Actually, I didn’t say anything; I could only make grunting sounds again.
The fake Eli saved me by interrupting, although he didn’t realize he’d done so. He couldn’t read Victor like Eli would have.
“Let’s get him up to Bertram,” Eli said, and after a moment, Victor turned on his heel and walked away from me.
Victor really should have known better, but he put great store in measurements and numbers and tests, things that could be quantified. He knew in his heart there was something not right about the whole thing, but the damning evidence of the leaves and blood was powerful, enabling him to brush aside his inner reservations. He’s always been a head-over-heart guy.
The fake Eli walked away from me, following Victor, and I took the opportunity to roll over on my side to where I could see. I kept testing the duct tape bonds, but they held fast. Victor had done his usual competent job.
You’d think I could have used talent to free myself, but it’s not that easy. I don’t have any preset spells in hand; I don’t operate that way. And although I could gather what I needed from the world around me, with no ability to speak or move or even gesture, I had no way to actualize anything. It was like having a loaded gun in your pocket, but with no way to use it.
Eli casually strolled over to where Victor was stuffing items back into his fanny pack. He slipped in behind him, and as I watched, I thought I saw his hands start to change. I looked again and this time I was sure-the hands began to gradually lengthen and change shape. Familiar six-inch claws spurted out in slow motion where fingers once were. The rest of him didn’t change; that would have taken too long. He was the same benign, reassuring presence I’d always known. Victor heard him come up and glanced back over his shoulder. Eli’s familiar presence reassured him, and he turned his attention back to his pack.
There was nothing I could do. It would get Victor first, then me. To make things worse, if possible, a movement in the shadows caught my eye. A rat, maybe, coming to investigate my helpless position. It loomed out of the darkness and poked its snout toward me an inch from my face. Only, it wasn’t a rat’s snout at all. It was a sharp black-and-tan muzzle, as familiar as my own face.
Lou disappeared behind me, and I could feel sharp teeth working on the duct tape that held my wrists. It was going to be a race. Would he be able to free me before the fake Eli grew those talons and sank them into the back of Victor’s neck? Lou should have ignored me and warned Victor first, but he doesn’t think that way. I was his first priority, and if Victor’s fight with the shape-shifter gave him some extra time to free me, so much the better. If Victor bought the farm as a result, it would be unfortunate, but war always has collateral damage. He’d help Victor if he could, but not at my expense. Better Victor than me, was his opinion. Or maybe I was being too harsh-Lou has trouble keeping more than one thought at a time in his mind, anyway.
He chewed through half the tape, and with that start, I was able to rip the remainder in half. I reached up with fumbling fingers to rip off the tape across my mouth, but my fingers were numb and I couldn’t get a grip. Eli’s arms came up toward Victor. I looked down at Lou, pointed at the two of them, and grunted wildly.
He got the message and charged toward them, rattling off his usual volley of high-pitched barks. Victor spun around immediately, just in time to see the claw at the end of Eli’s arm descending toward his face. He threw himself sideways, landing on one shoulder and rolling, bouncing immediately back to his feet. You had to admire the guy.
The Eli shape-shifter lunged at him, but Victor was too quick for it. If the shape-shifter had been in its natural form, it might have been a different story, but it was limited by the form it had taken. I had finally managed to tear the tape off my mouth, but the band around my feet was still secure. I couldn’t move from my spot on the ground, but I was no longer helpless.
I wasn’t much help, though. I knew from experience that it would be hard to affect the shape-shifter directly, and if I did something simple, like making the pavement as slippery as an ice rink, Victor would be affected as well. The two of them would go down together, and only one of them would get up.