Elfhome

Thorne was studying him with a look of mild annoyance, as if it bothered her to not understand him. “Why do you care about these children?”

“I was ten years old when my mother was killed. Humans don’t have clans. My only kin lived here on Elfhome. Since news could only be passed during Shutdown, it was weeks before they learned of my mother’s death, and then my grandfather needed to wait for the next Shutdown to come get me. I was alone on Earth for nearly three months, in the care of strangers, not knowing if anyone was coming for me.”

“So you understand what these doubles are facing by leaving everything behind and coming here.”

He nodded. “My grandfather was too wrapped up in his own grief at first to really take care of me. My baby cousin, Beloved Tinker of Wind, was only six.” Oilcan measured off how tall Tinker was at the time. “But she understood that she was all I had. By day she taught me what I needed to know to be safe and at night she let me grieve without judgment.”

Something that could have been envy flickered across her face before being banished. “You were kin. Why does she care for these children who are not her blood and not her clan?”

“Because that’s the way she is,” Oilcan said. “She cares about people. When she was basically the same age as Merry…” He was going to use Merry as a demonstration of size for when Tinker fought a saurus to save Windwolf’s life. The little female, though, was nowhere in sight. “Where’s Merry?”

Thorne scanned the room and then clicked her tongue in an elfin shrug. “I think I scared her away.”

That was entirely possible. Merry probably retreated to the safety of the pickup. Still, with all the kids going missing, it worried him to have her out of his sight. He walked to the entrance to check his pickup. Merry wasn’t in the cab.

“Merry?” He called.

The area was amazingly empty for an entire troop of marines having just unloaded from the train. Neither the soldiers nor Merry were in sight. The only thing moving was a dark van that was just pulling away from the curb.

He realized suddenly that he’d seen the van half a dozen times since arriving at the station, always slowly trolling past. “Merry!”

Five running steps and he caught the van and jerked open its back door. There were four big men crouched in the back. They looked up as the door opened, surprised but unafraid. They had Merry pinned to the floor, a hand clamped over her mouth.

“No!” He growled and scrambled into the moving van. He needed to stop the van; he needed to get to the driver.

He ducked a backhanded blow from the nearest one, jerked sideway from a grab, caught the driver’s head by the hair and slammed it into the steering wheel. The van jumped forward and bucked as the horn blared loud in protest. Oilcan grabbed the spindle and jerked the van into park. It shuddered to a halt, throwing him hard against the dashboard. It was an old van and keys dangled in the ignition.

He reached for the keys, but hands caught him from behind and flung him through the front window. Merry was screaming as he hit the pavement in front of the van. He heard the unmistakable clacking of a shell being chambered in a pump-action shotgun.

He looked up into the barrel of the gun as it fired.

The pellets rained to the ground inches from Thorne Scratch as she stood over him, her sekasha shields protecting them both. “Idiot! You’re not a domana!”

The van’s rear lights flashed, indicating that the driver was shifting back into drive.

“Cut the wheels!” Oilcan pointed at the van’s front tire.

Thorne caught Oilcan by the collar and spun like a matador before an enraged bull. The front bumper just missed Oilcan. She struck with her ejae as the van roared past, driving the blade through the driver’s door and cutting a long gash down the side. The van careened as it leapt forward, jumped the curb and slammed into the streetlamp on the corner. The horn stuck on, blaring loudly.

“That works too,” Oilcan said.

The back door flung open and the males inside leveled machine guns at them. Thorne growled a curse and shifted in front of Oilcan as bullets chewed a path toward them. The first handful pinged off her shield, but then Thorne grunted as one plowed through her weakened defenses and hit her.

“Thorne!” Oilcan shouted.

The air around them suddenly changed and the gunfire muted oddly as bullets ricocheted harmlessly to either side.

Pony pulled Oilcan up and back, eyes cold with fury. The Wind Clan sekasha ignored the oni, though, to square off to Thorne Scratch. “Peace?”

“We have peace until we agree to war.” Thorne gave a slight bow.

Pony matched the bow. “Peace it is until we agree otherwise.”

“Do we have to do this now?” Tinker was trembling with effort, right hand outstretched, finger cocked into odd positions.

“Yes.” Both Pony and Thorne Scratch said.

“Are you hurt?” Tinker asked Oilcan.

Oilcan shook his head. “They have Merry.”

“We will get her back.” Pony unsheathed his ejae.