Transformation Space - Marianne de Pierres [72]
They skidded down the last section as the guards reached the crest. Fariss had the first line of houses in her sights, and her unrelenting grip propelled Thales forward.
They hastened between rows of houses, weaving through the lanes at Fariss’s whim. He wanted to ask her if she knew which direction to go, but he couldn’t catch his breath enough to speak.
As they moved through the centre of the town, a cloak of familiarity descended over him. He’d grown up in a town like this, and the sense of familiarity delivered a rush of emotion. Unbidden, tears began to stream down his cheeks.
Fariss cricked her neck to stare down at him. ‘You hurt?’
He shook his head and dashed the moisture away. ‘How far to the Cat-cons?’
She glanced at the rooftops. ’Nother block, maybe.’
Scolar’s sun had started to set; they’d have darkness on their side soon. For the first time in his life Thales was relieved that Scolar had no moons. The street lights were already warming, and quiet had descended. It amplified the shouts of the Robes tracking them.
Fariss pulled him down one more lane and into a small amphitheatre. They skirted around its edge and past the next set of houses. These ones were a different colour: the Cat-Cons.
A group of children were playing in the last light, throwing balls at a wall. They stopped their game and stared at the fugitives. Then the oldest one grabbed the younger ones and shuffled them inside one of the homes.
Sirens were blaring now, alerting the town to an emergency. Inside the houses com-soles would be ’casting images of Thales and Fariss to the occupants.
An ’esque appeared in the doorway through which the children had disappeared. He carried a weapon.
‘Get on yer way!’ he bellowed.
Fariss squared her shoulders, and Thales felt her tension escalate. Her body became taut, ready to fight.
Thales straightened and limped forward. ‘We’re looking for a woman named Linnea. A Swestr. A woman – friend of hers – told us she would help.’
The man glanced back into the shadows in the doorway. He inclined his head towards Fariss and Thales. ‘Inside. Quick.’
Fariss stepped in front of Thales, her hands loose at her sides, fingers flexing. As they crowded into the small entrance, a woman spoke to them from the shadows of the hall. ‘I’ll take you to a safe place until Linnea comes. She’ll decide.’
Fariss didn’t like it, Thales could tell. He placed his hand in the small of her back and stepped round her bulk so he could see the woman. The man shut the door behind them.
‘Thank you. The Robes are searching for us. We don’t wish to bring you trouble.’
The woman was round and dark, and her Scolar accent was clipped, less cultured than his. She wore soft boots, loose pants and a collared shirt as if she’d just got off work.
‘You already did,’ she said without preamble. ‘Come.’
They followed her through the dully pigmented corridor, straight to the back of the house and into a neatly paved yard. The automated gate swung open at her request, and she hurried along an equally tidy paved laneway.
They could hear the Robes clearly. They were broadcasting a warning message along the streets and banging on doors. Thales glimpsed two of them between houses. They had their weapons raised and were engaged in animated conversation.
The woman began to jog.
Thales tried to keep up with her, but his body was close to collapse. Fariss fell back and linked her arm with his.
‘Just a little further,’ she whispered. ‘Then we can rest.’
He thought of Mira Fedor – how she’d escaped the Post-Species world and the Saqr invasion. From somewhere he dragged up determination. Mira had no one and nothing, and yet she’d survived. He was blessed with Fariss. He would not let her down. He pulled his arm from her support and quickened his pace again.
The dark was upon them when the woman stopped abruptly. She leaned forward, panting into a comm. The gates to another yard opened, and she hurried them through before they closed again.
From