The Madness Project (The Madness Method) (18 page)

A familiar little surge of panic shivered through me.  I had
no idea where I was.  No idea how long I’d been out.  This was
exactly
why I hated Shifting.  I dug my hand against my forehead and tried to think
back to how I’d got here.  I’d been at the gala.  The Prince’s birthday gala. 
Stars, the Prince had been
talking
to me.  He’d sat there sweet as could
be, and slagged me about stealing food…like he thought I was an actual person. 
My heart did a little somersault and I shivered from head to toe.  What would
Pika say about that? 

And then.

And then what?  I’d panicked.  Panicked because of Zagger,
Zagger
of all people!  And I’d Shifted.  I had the vaguest memory of Tarik staring at
me—staring at the crow—but that was all.  Just one glimpse.  Still, that made
more of a memory of my crow-life than I’d ever had before.

So here I was, sitting on a roof rafter, stuck as a pig.  It
wasn’t the most awkward place I’d ever woken up, though.

I held my breath and edged my way toward the wall, while the
beam grumbled under my weight and spat out a trickle of dust.  From the end of
the brace I could sort of see a way to pick my way down, hitching on the window
frame and some bits of furniture stuck up against the wall.  Trick was not to
think about it.  Thinking usually got you into trouble.

I stuck my foot out and caught the window frame with the toe
of my boot, then quick as a wick I hauled myself back up.  That wasn’t going to
work.  I never had a problem climbing up things.  Getting down was the
problem.  So I sat still for a tick, staring down and trying to wrap my head
around a solution.

Somewhere below, glass shattered.

The rainbow noise ricocheted off the walls, and some dozy
pigeons up in the beams with me exploded into the air.  I ducked when one
strafed my head.  Ducked, and lost my balance.  My hand shot out, snagging the
window frame as I fell.  I gasped as my shoulder wrenched up, and fast as I could,
I scuttled the rest of the way to the ground.  I pitched myself into a dusty
cave behind some machinery and crouched there on the cold hard stone, holding
my breath against the pain and the fear.

Could have been a cat, or an ambitious rat.  Could have been
a person.  Or…or a
thayo
. 
God, please no
.  I didn’t really want
to meet any of them, especially not a daemon.

Then I heard the voices.  Footsteps shuffling in broken
glass, pretending at being quiet.  I got to my knees and peeked around the
corner of my cover.  Dust motes hazed the air, and in the doubtful light I
couldn’t see much but the shadows rippling between the walls.

“Gotcha!”

An arm shot around my waist, dragging me backward.  I
screamed and bucked and tried to wiggle free, but whoever it was had got a grip
on my hair too, and that hurt like a devil.  My legs lashed out, but couldn’t
reach squat.

“Lemme gan!”

I threw my head back, gratified when it struck something
solid and the man behind me yelped like a dog.

“Do you have her,” another voice asked, “or should I call in
some help?”

The arms tightened, an elbow digging into my back.  “I’ve
got her.  Little hellion.”

A man came from the shadows to stand in front of me.  I
barely got a goggle of his face, just a hint of spectacles and grey or pale
hair, and a suit coat with brass buttons and velvet lapels.

“You’re sure about this one?” he asked. 

“Absolutely.”

“All right.  Bring her.”

I writhed again, flailing my arms like a pinned squirrel. 
“Take me where?” I hollered.  “What d’you want from me?”

A hand pressed over my mouth.  I thought he was trying to
shut me up, but then…

A smell.

Sweet.

Burning…burning…burning

White walls. 

White walls surrounded me.  White lights glared at me from
the white ceiling, like little suns drilling pain into my skull.  My nose
prickled from a cold chemical stench that somehow smelled…white.  I blinked but
it wasn’t my eyes gone boggy—the place really was that strange.  I’d never seen
a place like it.  Everything was much too smooth.  The walls too flat, the ceiling
too even, the surface under my hands cold and glassy. 

It felt like a lie.

Somewhere close by, just where I couldn’t see, I could hear
folks talking.  I strained but couldn’t make out their words, just the low
murmur—men—with the occasional laugh and the squeaking of wooden chairs. 

A minute and I tried to get up, but I couldn’t budge.  My
legs wouldn’t move.  My arms wouldn’t twitch.  I just lay there helpless,
breathless…head pounding, stomach tied in knots.  And I’d thought the rafter
experience was the most nightmarish wake-up imaginable.

“She’s awake,” someone said.

Shoes tapped on a tiled floor.

Flinching, I tried to pick up my head.  It was the only part
of me I could move.  Thick grey straps across my chest and legs pinned me
against a metal table, the silver surface blinding under the bright lights.  I
gave a few feeble attempts to thrash free, but somehow I couldn’t even Shift,
no matter how hard I concentrated.  I’d never tried Shifting with my hands
tied, so maybe I had to be free to make it happen.  Figured.

So.  I was good and caught.  I swallowed hard to keep from
panicking, and drew in a long deep breath.  I couldn’t find aught else to focus
on besides the walls of that room, and…

A man shifted into view above me, none as I’d ever seen
before.  He was tall and thin, wearing a thick wool jumper and a grey silk tie
like any old gent, but he had a face like vinegar and eyes like a devil.  And
he was staring at me as if I were the one who’d dragged myself there.

He pulled a stool up beside me and perched on it, wrinkled
hands folded in his lap.  I stared at his nails, because they looked far too
pretty to belong on a man’s hands.  And still he just sat there and watched
me.  I ground my teeth until my head ached.  He studied me exactly the way the
Hole lads studied a dead cat they’d found once—all morbid curiosity and cold
fascination.

“Who’re you and what’d you do to me?  What d’you want me
for?” I asked, when he didn’t speak for much too long. 

One brow perked up.  I imagined he smiled.

“Don’t be sullen,” he said.  “Who I am doesn’t really
matter.  I’m more interested in who
you
are.  What’s your name, love?”

And he said it with all the hate in the world.

“What d’you need it for?” I spat.

He glanced away and shrugged.  “Does it really matter?”

I craned my head but couldn’t see aught but a dark mirror
spanning almost the whole wall.

“Who’re you talking to?” I asked.  I twitched my head back
to frown at the man.  “No one else’s here.  What kind of bug house is this?”

“Call her Seven,” a voice said, drifting disembodied from
somewhere near the mirror.  It sounded familiar—it belonged to the spectacled
man who’d watched me get caught.  “If she doesn’t have a name.”

I shivered, blurting, “I’ve got a name!”

I bit my tongue soon as the words got out.  Why should it
bother me if they saw me as a nameless?  Safer if they did.  And I was an idiot
to be so proud, hanging on to my name like it meant something.

The devil-eyed man squinted at me.  “You’re a
shape-shifter.”

“Am not!” I shot back, then, “Says who?”

He sighed and stood, and stepped back behind my head.  I
twisted and strained but couldn’t get a glimpse of him, and my heart took off
racing.  Seeing him was terrible.  Not seeing him was near a hundred times
worse.  I listened close, though, and caught a grating and rasping like a
drawer opening up, and the rustle of hard objects.

“My man saw you Shift,” his voice said.

“Maybe he was swacked.”

The drawer slammed.  “
Don’t
try my patience.”

“Bog off!” I snapped.  I would’ve spat at him like Coins had
taught me, except I knew it would just end up on my own face, and that didn’t
seem terribly impressive.  “What got him in a rat hole like that?  And where’ve
you got me?  I’ve got folks looking for me!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said.  “No one’s looking for you.”

His face suddenly filled my view, his hand clamping on my
chin.  He tilted his head, contemplating me like a puzzle.  He passed his other
hand over my forehead, holding some little brass gadget that looked rather like
a pocket watch, except it was much too thick. 

“What shall we do with you,” he murmured, as if I had a say
in the matter.  “Never caught a Shifter before.”  He glanced over his shoulder
and said, “These readings are phenomenal.”

I worked my jaw but his hand gripped harder and harder, till
I thought maybe my teeth would pop loose.  I dragged in a breath through my
nose, but the sharp chemical smell burned and turned my head dizzy.  I couldn’t
do aught but stare up at him.  Couldn’t even ask him to let me breathe.

“Will it be even work with her?  And if it does, will it be
useful?” the other voice asked.  “I don’t want to waste any more energy on
useless specimens.”

“Oh, who’s to say?  That’s the thrill of it, Doctor.  You
never know what will turn out to be useful.” 

“Fine, do it.  But don’t forget the amnesic.  She can’t
remember any of this.”

The man’s face pulled back, and he smiled, and pain exploded
through my spine.

*  *  *  *

“Hayli.”

A hand dropped on my shoulder, a hand from the dark, dark
cold.  Pain like a flash surged all through me.  I tried to open my eyes but an
image flickered across them…white walls…a masked face…

Blood.

They’d said I wouldn’t remember, but I did.  Bits and
snatches of light and pain…and words, words, words.

The hand tightened.  I shrieked, or tried to, but the sound
gummed up in my throat.  My muscles twitched, wanting to fight but failing. 
The harder they twitched, the more it all hurt, but I couldn’t stop… Had to get
away…
Fly away…fly away…

“Hayli, open your eyes.  It’s me.  Calm down.”

“Tarik?” I mumbled.

The low laugh finally got my eyes open, only to find Derrin
there, kneeling by my side, his hand still tight on my arm.  He looked paler
than ever, and I stared in surprise when I read the relief in his eyes.  Derrin
had been worried about me?

“You disappear for five days, end up in a gutter, and wake
up thinking I’m the crown prince?  What exactly happened after we split up?”

I blinked at him, trying to figure if he was angry.  But I
couldn’t focus on anything.  I was cold, cold, but everything in me burned like
I’d caught fire.  My hands shook, and then my arms shook, until my whole body
twitched with shivers.  Derrin pulled me up, which didn’t hurt near as much as
I expected.  Next thing I knew I was floating, watching the street upside-down
as it bobbed in time to Derrin’s steps.

We passed under a street lamp and Derrin glanced down at me,
his face shifting to a frown.

“Oh Hayli,” he said.  “What did you get yourself into?”

“I dan’ na!  What’d they want with me?  How’d they know?”

“Hush, girl.  Almost there.”

“I did it, Derrin,” I moaned over a raggedy gasp.  “Did what
Kantian told me not to.  Shifted.  I’m so sorry…”

He just shook his head and kept going, and I gave up trying
to care.

Chapter 16 — Tarik

“So tell me,” Kor said, one day out of nowhere.  “What are
you going to tell them your gift is?”

“What do you mean?”

He sprawled into the chair in the middle of the safe room,
rubbing his jaw as he studied me.  When he didn’t answer for a long moment, I
went to sit on the table, catching Zagger’s eye.  He’d brought his twin
revolvers down with him today, making a big show of cleaning and loading them
while Kor and I talked.  Something about his loathing for Kor I found terribly
amusing, especially because of the way Kor just ignored his smirks and
ill-timed coughs and muttered commentary.

“You’re a Mask,” Kor said, drawing out the words as if he
could taste them.  “But if you tell them that and they suspect you at all,
they’ll kill you.  They’ll
kill
you.  They won’t believe for a second
that you’re not a royal agent.  You need a different gift.”

Zagger loaded the last bullet into one of his revolvers and
spun the chamber a little too dramatically.

“That’s not going to work,” I told Kor.  “What if they
wanted to test it?  I can’t just pretend that I can do something I can’t.”

“They’ll know you’re a Jixy.  That might be enough.”

I rubbed my hands over my face.  “I can’t count on that. 
Isn’t that something you would tell me?”

He shrugged, annoying me.  Behind him, Zagger mimicked the
motion and I fought back a laugh.

“I don’t even know all the different gifts they can have,” I
admitted.

“How are you with mind-reading?”