Fuhito’s smile seemed a little too predatory to be one of relief. She would have to be careful of what he told her.

44

It was mid-morning by the time they returned to Sam’s new neighborhood. Traffic was light on the streets, but the walks were moderately crowded. Kids scurried through the pedestrians, playing games that seemed to have mutating rules. Vendors hawked from their stalls and parked vehicles. A few shops were still in the process of running back their bars before opening. Groups of locals gathered around the tardy merchants and exchanged gossip as they waited. The crowd was varied enough that an Elf, an Indian, and a Caucasian walking together did not seem out of place.

Ghost grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him under the awning of a noodle stall. Dazed with exhaustion, Sam couldn’t think of a suitable complaint as Ghost and Dodger appropriated two of the stools by the counter. Not understanding, Sam took the empty stool between them.

“Trouble?” Dodger asked.

Ghost nodded. “Think so.”

The cook snarled at them to order or move on. Dodger flipped him a credstick and called for three cups of ramen. As soon as the gnarled old vendor turned back to his stove, Ghost inclined his head toward the building where Sam lived.

“Across the street, there’s a dog barking at a Dwarf.”

Sam and Dodger looked. The yelping animal was easy to spot. Standing stiff-legged, the street mutt yapped insistently at a short figure in a patched and tattered long coat. Pedestrians gave the interaction a wide berth. Finally responding, the derelict swatted a bagged bottle ineffectually at the animal, which lunged at the threatening hand and missed. The dog barked a few more times, then fled when he gray-haired heap of rags took a few scuttling steps in its direction.

“A castoff from society, broken and homeless. You have identified a true trouble of our world, Sir False Alarm.”

“The homeless don’t pack state-of-the-art weaponry.”

Sam and Dodger looked again, watching as the raggedy man returned to the sheltered hollow of a tenement’s front shop. Sam didn’t see anything, but Dodger must have.

“Mother of us all! You are right.”

“Paired Ares Predators?” Ghost asked.

“Could be. You’re the expert on ironmongery, Sir Razorguy, not I. Whatever breed they were, they were matched brace.”

“How did you spot him?” Sam asked.

“I had one of mine staked on that stoop.”

Sam beard the anger in Ghost’s voice. “And you think that…”

“The Dwarf got him. My boy wouldn’t have left voluntarily.”

Sam snatched another look. The derelict didn’t look dangerous except to one’s sense of propriety. “What do you thing he’s doing there?”

“Waiting for you, Sir Twist,” Dodger replied.

“He and his mates probably already hit the squat,” Ghost added.

“Hit the-” Sam’s stomach lurched. “Sally was supposed to be there.”

Ghost turned his bead to stare at Sam. His eyes narrowed, as razor-sharp chromed blades flicked in and out of his fingertips. It was the lack of expression on the face of the man with whom he had shared the night’s adventure that frightened Sam. The man he had trusted with his life seemed now on the verge of taking it.

Blades vanished as Ghost spun the stool and slid off, directly into the chest of Dodger. The Elf stood with his arms wide to block Ghost’s movement. Dodger folded them in around the Indian before the street samurai could slip past. The Elf had been anticipating Ghost’s maneuver.

“Discretion, Ghost. Charging in blindly won’t help her.” For a moment, the Indian seemed ready to fight Dodger, too. Then the tension went out of Ghost’s muscles and Dodger loosened his hold. “We don’t even know what happened.”

Dodger turned Ghost around, urged him back onto the stool, and sat by his side. Leaning over the counter, the Elf spoke across Ghost. “Sam, your magic can help.”

“What magic? I don’t know any spells.”

“Astral projection. You can scout the building and squat. If someone hostile is out there looking for you, they won’t expect that. Anyone who knows that you’re a magician is friendly and would just come up and talk.”

“Greerson,” Ghost whispered.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Who?” Dodger echoed.

“Greerson. Bounty-hunting Dwarf. Heard he works the ambush game.”

Dodger and Sam exchanged glances. “You know him?” Dodger asked.

Ghost shook his head. “Heard of him. Meanest halfer on the coast.”

“Well, Sir Twist, ’twould seem your demise is no longer counted a certainty in some circles. ’Twould also seem that your reconnaissance is not a convenience but a necessity. We cannot be sure that Greerson has not learned of your associates as well. Since none of us can walk invisibly past him, we must have the next best thing. Only your astral presence can slip in and let us know if our suspicions are correct. And more important, you can ascertain whether Lady Tsung is held captive in your dwelling.”

Dodger’s last argument was the clincher. If Sally were a prisoner, they would need to know everything they could to rescue her. “All right. I’ll give it a try.”

“That’s the brave knight errant.”

Sam didn’t feel like a knight. He felt more like an untrained page about to be suited up in armor and tossed into a battle without a sword. “I said I’d try, but I’m not very good at this stuff. Half of it seems to be hallucination and I’m not sure I can always tell which half is which.”

“But you will try.” To Sam’s slow nod of agreement, Dodger added, “Your best is all that you can do.”

Sam closed his eyes, trying to shut out the street sounds and concentrate. The noise wouldn’t go away, but the passage of vehicles in the roadway began to take on a rhythm. The harder he tried, the heavier his head felt. It sank down slowly only to jerk up again, jolting him from his effort. He tried again. This time, when the jerk came, he realized that he was standing. Now both his head and his whole body felt light, open, and clear, nearly floating. He opened his eyes and looked himself over. Everything seemed normal, except that all his equipment and belongings, save for his good-luck fossil tooth, looked slightly insubstantial. The tooth was as real and solid as his flesh.

He turned to say something to Dodger and Ghost and found them paying attention to the person slumped face-down over the counter-himself. Seeing that, Sam knew that he had succeeded, more fully than ever before. This time he was aware of his presence in astral space as well as knowing that his own body lay quietly awaiting his return. It was a liberating, exhilarating, profoundly disturbing realization.