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Authors: Rebekah Shafer

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BOOK: A Sea of Purple Ink
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9

A hand touched Reese’s shoulder. She tensed, analyzing the grip in her sleep.
Keller
. Reese opened her eyes to the blackness of the room. “What?” she whispered. The fragments of her memories slipped away into the back of her mind.

The grip relaxed and Keller’s hushed voice slid through the dark. “I heard the stairs creak.”

That can’t be good.
Reese crunched to a sitting position and rested a hand on her gun. Another slight noise came from the hallway.
Yes, someone is definitely out there.
She eased to her feet. “Wake the others.”

Reese crept towards the door, avoiding each loose board by memory. Behind her, Lise muttered something, half awake.

The footsteps in the hall stopped.

Tension tugged at Reese’s extra computing power. She drew her gun and waited on the inside of the door, all her attention bent to the invader in the hall.
Friend or foe?
Her eyes narrowed against the darkness. There wouldn’t be much time to find out.

Outside, the intruder hadn’t moved. He was breathing heavily, whoever he was, and the sound of his clothing carried the weight of a uniform. Then metal clicked against metal.

He has a gun.
Reese stiffened.
Policeman. We have to get out now.
She kicked hard into the dark. Her foot smashed against the door, slamming it open and into the side of the policeman. It connected, sending a shuddering wave through her leg.

The policeman gasped and something clattered to the floor.

In the patchy moonlight, Reese caught a momentary glimpse of his shocked face as he fell. He hit the ground with a thud. Cold resolve knotted in Reese’s stomach.
It’s him or us.
She clenched her jaw and pulled the trigger.

As the noise of the shot died away, she turned back to the room. “Keller, move.” There was no telling how many more were closing in.
They’ll have heard the shot.
“Down the hall and up the stairs. There’s a trapdoor to the tower.”

She felt the breathy rush of Keller zipping past her and caught a quick glimpse of the frightened girl in his arms.

Grahm approached. Reese struggled to separate his footsteps from the noises on the floor below.

The shifter stopped beside her. “Are there more?” he asked.

The noises resolved into clear probabilities and patterns. “Yes.” Reese pushed the study door open to block the hallway.
How did they find us?

“What are we going to do?” he asked, his deep voice tight with worry.

Reese holstered her gun. “Make a run for it.” She seized his elbow and pushed him down the hall, away from the lower stairs. “Now.”

The old observatory tower opened into a long balcony that ran the length of the roof. If they could just make it there—

“What about the mists?” Grahm panted as they ran up the short flight of stairs.

An old step groaned beneath Reese’s feet. “I’d prefer that over dying.”

They reached the ruins of the tower room and slowed to a stop. White moonlight streamed in through glass windows, highlighting Keller and the girl and the vivid streaks of mist outside.

Reese crossed the room to the balcony door. “It’s almost dawn. If we can hold out another hour, it’ll be gone.” She shaded her eyes and peered out through the window at the other wing of the house.
Or we use the darkness as a cover. Leaving now might be the better option.

A chair ground across the floor and stopped in front of the inner door. “And how do you propose to do that?” Grahm asked, gravity-pulling a pile of boards to help the blockade.

Reese ignored the question. “Do you have enough strength to get yourself and Lise out of here?”

Tension crept into the shifter’s expression. “Why?” he asked. “You’re not going to try running.”

“There aren’t other options,” Reese said. She folded her arms. “Head for the third circle of the city. If we get separated, look for Nero’s tavern. He can help.”

Lise hurried to her uncle’s side and stood there, one hand in his.

He gazed down at her. “Are you sure that will work?”

Something in his voice caught Reese’s attention. She stared at him, computations running.
Something’s wrong.

Glass shattered far below in the garden.

No time.
Reese broke off her calculation and grabbed the balcony doorknob, gun in one hand. “Wait for my signal.” She gripped the rusting latch and turned it. With a loud squeak, the door swung open and the remnants of the mist rushed in.

Reese hesitated a moment on the threshold, then ducked low and stepped out onto the narrow balcony. Curling spirals of wrought iron separated her from a three-story drop to the garden. Reese edged closer to the rail and peeked down at the overgrown garden. Policemen swarmed the grounds, ducking from bush to bush.

Bang!

A bullet shot past her and crashed through a glass panel. The glass splintered and fell in a shower of purple-tinted light.

Reese dropped flat and rolled back into the room before another shot could drive through the balcony floor. Glass crunched beneath her, then the mildewed carpet of the tower.

Keller helped her to her feet.

Reese shook glass from her coat. “There are more policemen out there than they’d need for a usual raid.” She gripped Keller’s arm. “They know we’re here.”
How did they track us down?

The flyer’s brown eyes met hers, clouded with concern.

A shout came from the gardens. “We know you’re in there. Come out!”

Reese cringed. The calculations weren’t letting up. Her head felt as if it were going to twist into a pulsing knot. “We’re out of time.” She glanced at Keller. “Get ready.” Then she turned to Grahm. “When I say go, gravity shift the glass shards out and drop them over the edge.”

Footsteps sounded in the hallway below.

Now or never.
Reese glanced down at the terrified little girl clinging to the shifter’s leg. “Cover your ears,” she warned. Then she shot out the windows. Seven quick blasts, all in a row. “Go!”

Grahm gave a low, rumbling groan, and the glittering shards lifted from the balcony and poured over the edge in a crashing stream.

“Get out now,” Reese yelled to Grahm, running forward.
He’d better move fast.
“Don’t get shot. We’ll buy you some time.” A few last pieces of glass crunched under her feet as she raced across the balcony and vaulted up onto the railing. For one moment she balanced there, watching the garden full of running policemen, then she flung herself into space.

Wind whistled in her ears. The time to impact ticked through her mind. Stunned police stared up at her, focusing their attention on her free-fall and, Reese hoped, not noticing the shifter’s escape.

Keller’s hands fastened around her waist and pulled her up into the mist-tainted air. The garden seemed to sink as they rose higher. One of the upturned faces caught Reese’s gaze.
The reader from the gate.
The man was just raising his gun, his attention focused on something behind Reese.

Did Grahm get away?
Reese looked back over her shoulder as they flew past the balcony.

The shifter stood by the railing, watching them go, a determined look on his face.

A jolt of adrenaline shot through Reese.
What does he think he’s doing?

Grahm raised his arms.

Is he going to start shifting his way over?

The world tilted.

Reese slammed into Keller’s interlocking grip, the blow knocking the wind out of her. The old man’s grip broke and Reese plummeted toward the side of the tower, now her ground.

Keller yelled something into the night. Bullets whizzed past.

Reese felt her mind jump into overdrive as the realization hit her.
Grahm’s working with them.
One slow half-turn through the air—Keller was somewhere above, possibly hit by the spray of bullets.

She ignored the number of dangers and focused in on the treacherous shifter.

Another twist—the balcony came into view now, oriented like a wall in her current gravity state. Grahm stood there, sideways with her, one hand gathering glass shards while the other pulled her through the air.

The shifter’s eyes met hers, deep and intense. Reese clenched her jaw.
You traitor.

With a quick flick, Reese whipped out her gun and fired. The bullet arched through the air, penetrating the gravity shift line.

Shock crossed Grahm’s face. He dodged sideways and the pull on Reese weakened.

Reese curled herself into a crouch. The wall of the tower loomed up below her. She landed with a bone-jarring smack and shot again.

His concentration broken, the shifter dropped her and pulled a wall of glass shards up. They exploded into tiny splinters as the bullet struck.

Reese landed on her back on the balcony floor and scrambled to her feet.
Time to go.
She whirled and jumped up onto the edge of the rail, ready to dive. “Keller!”

Gravity seized her like a giant hand. Reese tumbled off the railing as calculations screamed through her mind. No one way felt like the ground. Blood rushed into her head. Pressure built, stretching her two ways at once. She thrashed in midair, trying to reconcile what she saw with how she felt. She was trapped, twelve feet off the balcony in mid-air, in the shifting fields of gravity.

Grahm gazed up at her, his face a mask. “It’s over, Reese,” he called. Three policemen joined him on the balcony, one of them the reader from the gate. The gun jerked from Reese’s hand and fell to the garden below.

Reese hung there, mind racing. She took a deep breath and tried to stop the frantic search for a single down-point of gravity. “Is this why you think you don’t need to be rescued?” she called. There had to be a way out of this.

The reader leaned over and spoke into Grahm’s ear. In the sudden stillness, Reese could hear every slow, heavy word.

“Bring her in now.”

The shifter gave a short nod.

Reese felt herself pulled slowly down. The ability of this shifter was staggering. Fine point control, manipulating a gravity source apart from his own body. Even in the middle of panic, Reese’s mind kept analyzing.

“There are others who need rescuing,” Grahm said as Reese drew level with his face. The look in his eyes changed to pain, but his face remained stone hard.

Reese’s feet touched the balcony. She folded her arms and tried to slow down her frantically beating heart. Her eyes met the magician’s. “If you think you’re saving someone by doing this,” she said, “you’re wrong.” She searched her memory for anything that might strike home. “When have the police, or the readers, ever kept their word?”

“Hold her still,” a uniformed policeman instructed. He fished a pair of copper handcuffs from his belt and clicked them open.

Reese’s stomach lurched. She’d always thought being captured would be more dramatic. More intense. And would definitely not involve this crushing, invisible grip.

The policeman stepped closer and reached out with the cuffs. Behind him, Lise gazed at her with frightened eyes.

Movement flickered past the balcony edge. Reese had a split second to register shock on the face of the reader, then a gun fired.

10

A splash of red appeared on the reader’s coat. Lise screamed as the policeman staggered backwards and fell into an empty window frame.

Reese, still on overdrive, saw every detail in a splintered second. The little girl’s frightened eyes. Grahm, wheeling toward the policeman in shock and, unaccountably, fear. The fallen reader’s white face. His gaze locked on Reese.

Then hands gripped Reese’s arms. Keller’s hands. Reese felt the tug as Keller took off, dragging her to safety. Shouts echoed from the garden as they shot up into the sky.

“Keller, what are you doing?” Reese shouted.
You can’t get me out fast enough.
“He’s going to pull us down—” The death grip from below tightened. Reese gasped as it took effect. She felt like a bone, cracking between two dogs.

Keller’s hold tightened. “He’s not going to get the best of us,” he growled.

Reese could hear pain and anger in his voice. And fatigue.
Much more of this and he’ll run out of strength.
The pull shook as Keller struggled to maintain their height. “Keller,” Reese gasped out, “this isn’t going to work.”

“Says who?” the old flyer grunted. He released his grip with one hand and clasped an arm around her waist. “Brace yourself.”

The pull from below grew even stronger. Black spots danced in front of Reese’s eyes. Seventeen of them. Traveling counter-clockwise at a speed of— Reese shut her eyes and tried to block out the dizzying thoughts. She could feel the gravity sucking her in, gaining strength.

They dropped a short distance and pulled up short. Keller’s arms shook with the strain. His hold tightened for a split second, then the resistance died.

Reese plummeted downward, the old man still holding on. “Keller!” Reese screamed. The ground rushed up to meet them. Reese grabbed the flyer’s hands.
Is he alive?
“You’re going to stop us, right?” They whizzed past the balcony towards the gravel walk. “You’re going to stop us, right?”

The unresponsive arms twitched. Then tightened.

Six feet from the ground, the dust of the path filling the air, they swooped upward and rocketed into the sky.

Alarm thundered through Reese’s mind.
What on earth is he doing?
Gravity pulled at her feet and slipped away, weakened by the relentless upward flight. The garden dropped away beneath her.
Keller’s never flown like this before.

Scattered gunfire burst from the ground as they rose higher and higher. Reese could see the spidering pattern of streets now, twinkling with golden streetlights.

The incline of the flight changed, and they soared outwards, toward the wall of the Inner Circle. “Keller,” Reese called, “you’d better take us down before you hurt yourself.” Wind hissed in her ears.
Why isn’t he answering?
Reese gripped one of the arms circling her waist, straining to catch any hint of pulse. Life was flickering, but very faintly.

The forward motion stopped and they free-dropped a few yards, pulling up with a sharp jerk. Reese fought to keep her stomach level. They kept dropping towards the street outside the main gate, descending in short bursts, then they hit the ground hard. Reese landed on her feet and braced herself against Keller’s weight. But instead of catching himself, the old man toppled forward, pulling Reese with him.

Reese slammed into the cobblestone street. Pain shot through her right arm as it collided with the rough surface. She bit back a gasp and rolled clear.
Just a bruise,
she told herself, scrambling to her hands and knees. “Keller?”

The old flyer lay curled on the ground. A trickle of blood ran down his purple-stained forehead, caking in his hair.

“No!” Reese’s calculations froze. Pressure built in her head, a swirling, beating backlog of data. For one long moment it waited. Then, in a searing spray of lost trails, it imploded into one single thought. Reese scrambled forward, crying with the pain in her head and the look on her friend’s face. This couldn’t be happening. Desperate, she gripped his shoulders and gently rolled him onto his back. “Keller?”

More blood stained his rough shirt, mixing with the violet hues of the mist marks. Reese bit her lip. The calculations were creeping back now, adding to the throbbing mess inside her mind.

Keller’s eyes flickered open. He stared at her, unseeing. Then, slowly, his gaze focused and he lifted his head. “Reese?” he whispered.

Reese blinked away tears and, with a mighty effort, controlled her voice. “You did good,” she whispered back. “You got us out.”

The hint of a smile twitched in the corners of Keller’s mouth. “I’d heard we could get more strength right before the end.” He winced. “I guess it’s true. It made me feel young again.”

What’s true?
Reese’s mind produced the answer, but she refused to acknowledge it. “What’s true?” she asked, searching the man’s face for any sign of hope.

“I flew like I’d never flown before,” Keller answered. He drew a long gasp. “One last…” A shudder ran through his body, and he fell back to the street. Dead.

Time passed.

Reese, sitting beside Keller’s body, was painfully aware of just how much time had passed. Even in grief her mind would not rest. Memories of Keller’s long life mixed with the fading mists, the time until the policemen would catch up, and what she should do next.

A breeze from the east picked up, drying her tears and blowing a scrap of paper across the road at three feet per second.
They’re coming. I know they’re coming.

Her feet refused to move. She sat, silent, watching the wind stir a wisp of the old man’s hair. They could get another flyer, but they could never replace Keller. He had been with her almost since the beginning. Already an old man, but always the first to act. The first to speak up. And now he was gone.

A muffled noise echoed up the empty street.

Reese looked up. Somewhere out there a squad of police were rushing her way. Police, and a reader, and Grahm. Reese crawled to her feet, too numb to fully care.
Just get out,
she told herself.
The rest can come later.

She glanced at the closed gate behind her.
I’ve got some time. They’ll have to stop to open the gate before they can come out here, and—
A loose tile on the roof of the arch wriggled loose and vanished over the inner side.

But now they’ve got a shifter.
She whirled and took off down a side street. Her mind began working again, churning, straining.
A shifter on their side.
Somehow, some way, the police were getting smarter. Reese pushed herself harder, running as fast as she could, searching for a gutter shaft. If she could find a drain for rainwater it should be big enough to hide in. And, if worse came to the worst, she could hide in the canals below the island.

But Keller was gone. The thought wouldn’t leave her. It snaked through her calculations, spreading cascades of memories and emotions.
How will the others react?
Reese felt a sob building and bit it back. She could hear the distant sound of pursuit.
They won’t give me time to think. Time to grieve.
A hot ache spread through her head, a throbbing pulse.

A bullet screamed past her and shattered in the wall of the alley. “Halt!”

The deep voice snapped Reese back to the present.
They’re coming up fast.
She dove sideways into another narrow gap and ran.
If Grahm gets too close, it’s over.
She gasped for air, her lungs pulling and pushing at maximum speed.

Heavy feet pounded the ground behind her, and a few more shots whistled past.

As she rounded a corner, Reese felt the street begin tilting. Her heart leapt into her mouth. Desperate, she flung herself into a forward roll and thudded down between two houses, outside of the gravity’s pull. Street dust filled her mouth and eyes. She coughed and scrambled to her feet, keeping as low as she could. A few more yards, and the narrow rectangle in the side of the street appeared up ahead.

A very narrow rectangle. Reese let her evasion calculations subside and focused on the fast-approaching rectangle.

One step
—yes, it’s big enough to fit in.

Two step
—but only if I hit it at just the right angle.

Three step
—lean forward to get aligned.

A bullet hit the sidewalk a few feet from the hole, sending shattered bits of pavement flying into the air.

Reese took a deep breath and pulled herself into a forward flip. Her hands hit the ground and pushed off. As her feet passed her head, she caught a momentary glimpse of the approaching soldiers. And Grahm.

Her flip continued. As she hit the right angle, her feet slid down into the hole. Reese clapped her arms to her sides, twisted her head, and plunged into the darkness. The steep side of the shaft smacked into her back and brought her to a grinding halt, rough stone biting into her back.

Great.
Reese began wriggling her way farther down the shaft. Dirt and dust fell on her face and neck in a gritty spray.

A pebble from up above, kicked down by a policeman’s boot, bounced off her shoulder.

“We know you’re in there,” a raspy voice called. “Come out.”

Dull muttering ensued.

Reese kept going, keeping half an ear on the conversation above. The shaft widened and turned downward. Reese dropped over the edge and fell, catching herself in a crouch on the bottom ledge. Here at least there was room to maneuver. Damp and cold crept in through her coat. She knew without looking that a second hole would be nearby—the passage to the lowest tunnels and sewer canals. But, given her last experience down there, she wasn’t in any hurry to go back.

“Reese.” The deep voice vibrated through the tunnel.

She jerked to attention.
Grahm.

“Come on out,” the shifter called. “Neither of us wants me to drag you out of there.”

Calculations flared up.
How much power does he have left? He has to be getting tired.
Reese edged toward the second hole. “You killed Keller, Grahm.” The words nearly caught in her throat. She swallowed hard and crouched in the blackness, feeling the floor with her hands. Her fingers found the edge of a hole.
There.
The next shaft. With one ear toward the exit above, Reese inched across the wet stone. “And what about Lise?” she called. “Whatever bargain you have with them, they won’t honor it. You killed the police chief.”

Grahm’s voice rasped into the darkness. “I told you, I didn’t—”

“Reese Davis,” a new voice called. “Formerly Reese Darren. You are under arrest for illegal activities and evasion of authority.”

The familiar words bounced off the stone walls and trickled into the musty air, not worth replying to. Reese swung her feet into the second shaft and lowered herself into the darkness.

A muttered command came from up above, followed by a slow intake of breath.

Reese braced herself against the confining walls of the shaft.
Here it comes.

Gravity snapped into reverse, but the pull barely affected her.
He is getting tired.
She hung on, waiting for a slack in the flow.
He can’t be used to directing a gravity shift through two directions of pipes.

The sound of water rushing grew quieter.
There. A weak moment.
Reese clapped her feet together and pushed herself into a free fall toward the dark tunnels below. Stone skimmed by in the dark, then a vast openness, and
splash
, she landed in the cold water of the canal.

BOOK: A Sea of Purple Ink
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