Beltan tossed down the mask. “We’ll take my cab.”

Vani moved down the hallway. “We will take the fire escape and go through the alley. The front of the building might be watched.”

However, by the time they peered around the corner of the alley, the street beyond was dark and silent.

“Can you see anything?” Beltan whispered to Travis.

Travis could see in the dark better than even Vani; it was one of the ways he had been changed by the Stone of Fire. But there was nothing there. In fact, he had never seen the street so utterly devoid of signs of life. Every window was dark; even the street-lamps seemed dim, their circles of light contracted.

Beltan motioned for the others to follow and led the way to his cab. They climbed in—Beltan and Vani up front, Travis, Nim, and Deirdre in the back. Beltan cranked the key in the ignition.

Nothing happened. Beltan made a growling sound low in his throat. “By the Holy Bull’s Big Bloody B—”

Vani slapped the blond man’s cheek. Hard.

He shot her a wounded look. “What was that for?”

“I think it was for swearing when children are present,” Deirdre said, hugging Nim on her lap.

“No,” Vani said, then reconsidered. “Well, yes, now that you mention it. But it was mostly for this.”

She opened her hand. On her palm was what looked at first like a crumpled piece of gold foil.

“Get out of the car,” Travis said. “Now!”

They scrambled out of the taxi. Travis grabbed Deirdre, spinning her around, searching for any signs of them on her or on Nim.

“Are you trying to make me throw up?” the Seeker said, staggering.

“Gold spiders,” Travis said. “Do you see any gold spiders on you or Nim? The Scirathi create them. They move like they’re alive, only they’re not. They’re more like little machines, filled with venom. One bite and you’re—” He clamped his mouth shut, aware of Nim’s wide eyes locked on him.

“I don’t like spiders,” the girl said, pronouncing the word thpiderth. “They have too many legs.”

“I’m with you on that one,” Deirdre said in a cheerful voice. “But look—they’re all gone now.”

They were, as far as Travis could tell, though there could be more of them in the taxi, hiding in niches and recesses, waiting to crawl out when a hand passed nearby. It didn’t matter. The car was dead.

“We must go,” Vani said, giving him a sharp look.

Travis started to reply, then froze. He saw them before the others possibly could have, making out the hump-backed shapes against the gloom. They loped down the street, moving swiftly on both feet and knuckles. A moment later Beltan swore, and Vani went rigid. So they had seen the things as well.

“Run,” Travis said. “Now.”

They turned and careened down the street. Travis muttered the runes of twilight and shadow through clenched teeth. They only seemed to work half the time, and when they did they were pitifully frail, but he had to hope their magic would conceal the five of them. Because there was no way they could outrun the things that were after them.

Beltan took Nim from Deirdre, holding the girl easily under one arm as he ran.

“Are those things back there what I think they are?” Deirdre said between ragged breaths.

“They are if you think they are gorleths,” Vani answered. “I am not certain how many are following us.”

Travis tried to count the shadows he had seen. “Too many,” he said, and ran faster. The gorlethswere abominations spawned by the Scirathi, creatures pieced together from the blood and flesh of multiple beasts. Their strength, hunger, and desire to kill knew no limits.

“Where are we going?” Beltan asked as they rounded a corner.

Travis pointed. “There. The Tube station. We can catch a train to the Charterhouse.”

They pounded the last hundred yards to the entrance of the station, and Travis uttered a constant litany of runes as they dashed down a flight of steps. It was late, and there was no attendant on duty in the booth next to a bank of turnstiles. Deirdre stopped, searching in her pockets.

Travis stared at her. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for a ticket. Ah.” She pulled a small cardboard rectangle from her pocket, put it in the slot, and passed through the turnstile.

Vani jumped over the turnstile after her. Beltan handed Nim to the T’goland followed suit, as did Travis.

Deirdre grimaced. “Well, if I had known we were going to be a gang of hoodlums, I would have saved the fare.”

“Come on,” Travis said, grabbing her hand.

They dashed down the steps that led to the southbound platform of the Jubilee line. They could take the train to Westminster, then catch either the District or Circle line to the Blackfriars station. From there it was only a few blocks to the Seeker Charterhouse.

And what if the Scirathi know where the Charterhouse is? What if they’re staking it out?

Travis set aside the question. They could worry about that on the train ride there. They halted at the edge of the platform. Travis leaned out, peering down the lightless tunnel, hoping to feel the puff of air that would indicate an arriving train.

“How long until a vehicle comes?” Vani said, cradling Nim. The girl seemed unable or unwilling to blink.

Travis peered at the electronic sign over the platform. It was blank. There were no other passengers in sight; the platform was deserted.

“I don’t see a schedule anywhere,” Deirdre said, gazing around. “The trains don’t run as often this late at night.”

“Or maybe not at all,” Beltan said. He knelt to pick up a length of yellow plastic tape from the tile floor—the kind of tape often used for police or construction barricades. The blond man held out the tape. Words were printed on it: DO NOT ENTER. CLOSED FOR MAINT—

“Great Spirit protect us,” Deirdre murmured, gripping her bear claw necklace, but Travis knew it was too late for that, that there was nothing to protect them now.

Vani turned, arms locked around Nim. “We were herded here. This is where they wanted us to come all along.”

Even as the T’golspoke, the first hungry, guttural sounds skittered along the curved tile walls of the station.

13.

There was a stairway at either end of the platform; the growling noises emanated from both.

“Get ready, Vani.” Beltan said as he raised his sword. Travis hadn’t realized the knight had carried it all this way.

“Deirdre, take Nim,” Vani said, handing the girl to the Seeker. “I must be free to fight.”

“I don’t want you to fight the ’leths,” Nim said, then began to cry.

Vani caressed her damp cheek. “You must be brave, daughter.”

Nim nodded, her sobs ceasing if not her tears, and Deirdre hugged the girl tight, looking as if she was trying to be brave herself.

“Travis,” Beltan said, alternating his gaze between both stairways, “can you speak any runes that might help us?”

Travis was so tired. Speaking runes on Earth was like running through water: great effort for little effect. “I’ll try.”

The first dark forms appeared at the foot of both stairways. They were the size of apes. But then, the gorlethshad been apes once—or at least part of them had. Chimpanzees were one of the animals the Scirathi used in fashioning the gorlethshere on Earth. What other animals they had used, Travis could only imagine. Muscles writhed under the skin of their humped backs, their digits ended in curved talons, and knifelike teeth jutted from their maws.

Beltan and Vani each faced one of the stairwells, with Travis, Deirdre, and Nim between them. The first gorlethshad already covered half the distance across the platform, their talons scraping against the tiles, making a sound like fingernails being dragged across a blackboard. Their pale eyes shone with hungry intelligence.