frowned as he gingerly rubbed the freshly denuded space above his nose.
Hexe’s BlackBerry rang. He fished it out of his pocket and peered at the caller ID. “It’s Kidron. He’s waiting for us outside.”
As Hexe helped Lukas to his feet, the young bastet looked in my direction. “Tate—aren’t you coming with us?”
“Well, I was hoping to get some more work done on this sculpture. ...”
“Pleeeease?”
I glanced at Hexe. “I don’t want to get in the way. It’s a doctor’s visit, after all.”
“The more the merrier, I always say,” Hexe said. “Besides, I think you’ll find Dr. Mao very . . . interesting . ”
“Not in the Chinese sense of the word, I hope,” I replied.
It took a little doing, but we managed to rustle up enough clothes for Lukas to go out in public without calling too much attention to himself.
Hexe loaned him a pair of jeans that were an inch too short, as well as an old hoodie sweatshirt, while my contribution consisted of a pair of scuffed-up old Vans.
Once he was dressed, Hexe and I escorted Lukas downstairs, careful to keep him sandwiched between us so he couldn’t fall down. Walking the single flight was torture for the poor kid, but he put up a brave front, moaning only once.
Upon reaching the first floor, Hexe disappeared into his study and returned carrying a cane, the shaft of which was fashioned of ironwood and the handle made from a goat’s horn.
“Use this,” Hexe said, handing Lukas the cane. “The handle’s a scapegoat’s horn. It’ll absorb most of the pain while you’re walking. Be careful with it, though—anyone who touches it after you’ve used it will be in for a nasty surprise.”
As Lukas leaned his weight upon the charmed cane, I could see the pain drain from his face. He paused on the threshold of the open door, staring in wonderment at the buildings that crowded the streets.
“I’ve been in New York for weeks, but this is the first time I’ve really seen this city,” he marveled.
“Believe me, the rest of New York looks nothing like this,” I assured him.
Kidron was waiting patiently at the curb in front of the house. Instead of the two-wheeled hansom cab, he was hitched up to a closed, four-wheeled carriage.
“Good afternoon, Miss Tate,” the centaur said, tipping his top hat. “Nice to see you again.”
“Hello, Kidron,” I replied as I opened the door of the cab. “It’s nice to see you, too.”
As I turned to help Lukas into the carriage, the shape-shifter eyed the centaur uneasily. Hexe stepped forward and patted his young patient on the shoulder. “There’s no need to be scared, Lukas. Kidron is a friend. Isn’t that so?”
The cabbie bobbed his head in agreement. “We all run in the same herd, do we not?”
After we situated ourselves inside the cab—Lukas and I side-by-side, Hexe seated opposite us—Kidron trotted off in the direction of Pearl Street. Hexe glanced over at Lukas, who was looking out the window of the moving cab, taking in the sights.
“Do you mind telling me why you hesitated before getting in the cab?” he asked. “Was it because you’ve never seen a centaur before?”
“No. That’s not it.” Lukas dropped his gaze in shame. “It’s just that I—well, I fought one in the pit.”
“Bloody-minded fecker!” Hexe spat in disgust.
Lukas flinched and lowered his head. Seeing his reaction, Hexe reached out and clasped the boy’s shoulder.
“Please don’t misunderstand—I’m not mad at you, Lukas. I realize you had no choice in what happened. Marz is the one I’d like to get my hands on. He’s a vile piece of bad business.”
It wasn’t long before we arrived at our destination: a row of mixed-use tenement buildings facing the elevated Brooklyn Bridge access ramps. Dr. Mao’s apothecary shop was on the ground floor, sandwiched between a plumbing supply shop and a tapas restaurant.
As Kidron pulled up to the curb, a one-armed pink-haired Kymeran dressed in an
Hexe’s BlackBerry rang. He fished it out of his pocket and peered at the caller ID. “It’s Kidron. He’s waiting for us outside.”
As Hexe helped Lukas to his feet, the young bastet looked in my direction. “Tate—aren’t you coming with us?”
“Well, I was hoping to get some more work done on this sculpture. ...”
“Pleeeease?”
I glanced at Hexe. “I don’t want to get in the way. It’s a doctor’s visit, after all.”
“The more the merrier, I always say,” Hexe said. “Besides, I think you’ll find Dr. Mao very . . . interesting . ”
“Not in the Chinese sense of the word, I hope,” I replied.
It took a little doing, but we managed to rustle up enough clothes for Lukas to go out in public without calling too much attention to himself.
Hexe loaned him a pair of jeans that were an inch too short, as well as an old hoodie sweatshirt, while my contribution consisted of a pair of scuffed-up old Vans.
Once he was dressed, Hexe and I escorted Lukas downstairs, careful to keep him sandwiched between us so he couldn’t fall down. Walking the single flight was torture for the poor kid, but he put up a brave front, moaning only once.
Upon reaching the first floor, Hexe disappeared into his study and returned carrying a cane, the shaft of which was fashioned of ironwood and the handle made from a goat’s horn.
“Use this,” Hexe said, handing Lukas the cane. “The handle’s a scapegoat’s horn. It’ll absorb most of the pain while you’re walking. Be careful with it, though—anyone who touches it after you’ve used it will be in for a nasty surprise.”
As Lukas leaned his weight upon the charmed cane, I could see the pain drain from his face. He paused on the threshold of the open door, staring in wonderment at the buildings that crowded the streets.
“I’ve been in New York for weeks, but this is the first time I’ve really seen this city,” he marveled.
“Believe me, the rest of New York looks nothing like this,” I assured him.
Kidron was waiting patiently at the curb in front of the house. Instead of the two-wheeled hansom cab, he was hitched up to a closed, four-wheeled carriage.
“Good afternoon, Miss Tate,” the centaur said, tipping his top hat. “Nice to see you again.”
“Hello, Kidron,” I replied as I opened the door of the cab. “It’s nice to see you, too.”
As I turned to help Lukas into the carriage, the shape-shifter eyed the centaur uneasily. Hexe stepped forward and patted his young patient on the shoulder. “There’s no need to be scared, Lukas. Kidron is a friend. Isn’t that so?”
The cabbie bobbed his head in agreement. “We all run in the same herd, do we not?”
After we situated ourselves inside the cab—Lukas and I side-by-side, Hexe seated opposite us—Kidron trotted off in the direction of Pearl Street. Hexe glanced over at Lukas, who was looking out the window of the moving cab, taking in the sights.
“Do you mind telling me why you hesitated before getting in the cab?” he asked. “Was it because you’ve never seen a centaur before?”
“No. That’s not it.” Lukas dropped his gaze in shame. “It’s just that I—well, I fought one in the pit.”
“Bloody-minded fecker!” Hexe spat in disgust.
Lukas flinched and lowered his head. Seeing his reaction, Hexe reached out and clasped the boy’s shoulder.
“Please don’t misunderstand—I’m not mad at you, Lukas. I realize you had no choice in what happened. Marz is the one I’d like to get my hands on. He’s a vile piece of bad business.”
It wasn’t long before we arrived at our destination: a row of mixed-use tenement buildings facing the elevated Brooklyn Bridge access ramps. Dr. Mao’s apothecary shop was on the ground floor, sandwiched between a plumbing supply shop and a tapas restaurant.
As Kidron pulled up to the curb, a one-armed pink-haired Kymeran dressed in an
Similar Books
