stock. She wasn’t badly hurt. Her skin burned, but linoleum was easier to fall on than concrete. Gingerly, she wobbled to her feet.
Arms outstretched, she limped forward until her fingers bumped into the Plexiglas guard rail. She followed it to one of the silent escalators.
The first few flashlights bobbed into view, the distance turning them into pinpricks. Her heart jumped, but she forced herself to look. Two hundred metres away, she gauged. By the swing of their lights, she guessed they were walking.
She eased herself down the escalator. Her hand trembled on the vinyl railing, toes feeling each step. Halfway down, the echoes caught up to her.
The shouting had stopped, which worried her. These voices spoke quietly to each other, indistinct in their echoes. She kept going, forcing each step down into the dark. At the bottom, she turned to follow the bulk of the escalator back.
When that ended, she held her breath and struck out into the dark. She angled toward where she thought the stores to be, listening. The voices were clearer now. They came closer with each step. Debris skittered away from her foot, hitting something just ahead of her. She reached out a hand.
Her fingertips bumped into smooth concrete as the first flashlight swept over the scene. The edge of the upper floor was silhouetted against it, giving her hiding spot a hefty overhang. Two pairs of footsteps walked above her.
“Did you hear something?”
She cowered into what she guessed was a support pillar. She followed their footsteps on the ceiling, suddenly glad for the darkness.
“She can’t have gone far.”
“True.” The flashlight swept across the floor above, briefly illuminating a sagging banner on the railings. Two men walked into her view, trailing the guard rail. She slunk back, putting the pillar between them. Where were the rest?
“Yeah, but you heard them talking. She has magic.”
“Magic does not help her find her way.” Roger walked out of the dark as the two men jumped. She’d jumped, too. Through the pain, she hadn’t even noticed the tingling in her hand. She jammed the glowing mark into her pocket. “And if she knew how, she would have used it by now. It’s possible she is hiding, but more probable that she is lost.”
That seemed to describe her fairly well.
“Can’t you sense her? You have magic, right?”
She paid close attention. The transfer mark linked them together. He’d helped her earlier. Was he a friend?
Roger did not speak. In that silence, he said a lot of things.
She saw one man take a step back from him. It seemed an unconscious decision. She was tempted to do that, too.
“Magic does not work that way.” He said finally, gazing out over the space beyond the rail.
“When you find her, don’t hurt her. I want to talk to her.”
Mieshka shivered.
The other men turned around to go. She relaxed. Roger did not go with them.
Had he lied? Could he feel her through the transfer link?
Just before the men’s light faded, his gaze passed right through where she stood.
She cowered against the support, her raw skin unhappy with its surface. He couldn’t have seen her. It was way too dark where she stood.
Was it a coincidence?
As the men’s footsteps departed, she listened for a third set.
It didn’t come. Either the man was inhumanly quiet, or he still stood there.
She pressed her forehead against the cool concrete of the pillar. The darkness closed in around her. Those men had caught up with her, but where had the others gone? Short-cuts? Roger had walked out of the dark. Were the others in the dark with him? Her imagination produced a helpful image of them all crowding in the dark, leading with their guns.
She tensed her jaw against the panic, shaking quietly against the pillar. She counted, mouthing each number. Focusing on calming her breath. After two minutes, she opened her eyes again. Not that it made a difference in the dark.
She was her mother’s daughter, she reminded herself.
Arms outstretched, she limped forward until her fingers bumped into the Plexiglas guard rail. She followed it to one of the silent escalators.
The first few flashlights bobbed into view, the distance turning them into pinpricks. Her heart jumped, but she forced herself to look. Two hundred metres away, she gauged. By the swing of their lights, she guessed they were walking.
She eased herself down the escalator. Her hand trembled on the vinyl railing, toes feeling each step. Halfway down, the echoes caught up to her.
The shouting had stopped, which worried her. These voices spoke quietly to each other, indistinct in their echoes. She kept going, forcing each step down into the dark. At the bottom, she turned to follow the bulk of the escalator back.
When that ended, she held her breath and struck out into the dark. She angled toward where she thought the stores to be, listening. The voices were clearer now. They came closer with each step. Debris skittered away from her foot, hitting something just ahead of her. She reached out a hand.
Her fingertips bumped into smooth concrete as the first flashlight swept over the scene. The edge of the upper floor was silhouetted against it, giving her hiding spot a hefty overhang. Two pairs of footsteps walked above her.
“Did you hear something?”
She cowered into what she guessed was a support pillar. She followed their footsteps on the ceiling, suddenly glad for the darkness.
“She can’t have gone far.”
“True.” The flashlight swept across the floor above, briefly illuminating a sagging banner on the railings. Two men walked into her view, trailing the guard rail. She slunk back, putting the pillar between them. Where were the rest?
“Yeah, but you heard them talking. She has magic.”
“Magic does not help her find her way.” Roger walked out of the dark as the two men jumped. She’d jumped, too. Through the pain, she hadn’t even noticed the tingling in her hand. She jammed the glowing mark into her pocket. “And if she knew how, she would have used it by now. It’s possible she is hiding, but more probable that she is lost.”
That seemed to describe her fairly well.
“Can’t you sense her? You have magic, right?”
She paid close attention. The transfer mark linked them together. He’d helped her earlier. Was he a friend?
Roger did not speak. In that silence, he said a lot of things.
She saw one man take a step back from him. It seemed an unconscious decision. She was tempted to do that, too.
“Magic does not work that way.” He said finally, gazing out over the space beyond the rail.
“When you find her, don’t hurt her. I want to talk to her.”
Mieshka shivered.
The other men turned around to go. She relaxed. Roger did not go with them.
Had he lied? Could he feel her through the transfer link?
Just before the men’s light faded, his gaze passed right through where she stood.
She cowered against the support, her raw skin unhappy with its surface. He couldn’t have seen her. It was way too dark where she stood.
Was it a coincidence?
As the men’s footsteps departed, she listened for a third set.
It didn’t come. Either the man was inhumanly quiet, or he still stood there.
She pressed her forehead against the cool concrete of the pillar. The darkness closed in around her. Those men had caught up with her, but where had the others gone? Short-cuts? Roger had walked out of the dark. Were the others in the dark with him? Her imagination produced a helpful image of them all crowding in the dark, leading with their guns.
She tensed her jaw against the panic, shaking quietly against the pillar. She counted, mouthing each number. Focusing on calming her breath. After two minutes, she opened her eyes again. Not that it made a difference in the dark.
She was her mother’s daughter, she reminded herself.
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