Chronicles of the Invaders 1: Conquest by John Connolly, Jennifer Ridyard Page A

definitely did. And I think he was flirting back.”
    “Really?” Syl couldn’t help but feel slightly pleased.
    “Well, yes . . . until I told him you had a squint.”
    Ani’s head bobbed with mocking laughter, but it was infectious. Soon Syl couldn’t help but laugh too.
    “Hey,” said Ani finally, “I just remembered: happy birthday.”
    “Oh—I nearly forgot about that too. And I never had my cake . . . I’m starving.”
    “Here, then,” said Ani, pulling some fruitcake wrapped in a tissue from inside her balled-up sweater with a cheeky grin.
    “They save our lives and you steal their cake? You’re evil.”
    “Consider it a birthday gift,” said Ani. “I didn’t have time to get you anything else; time, or money for that matter. My father cut my allowance—again.”
    Whenever Syl felt that her father was being unfair or unduly strict, she thought about Ani and Danis. Danis made Lord Andrus look soft as a marshmallow.
    “Oh no. What’s he accused you of now?” asked Syl.
    “He caught me smoking,” said Ani.
    “Oh, Ani. That’s just stupid!”
    Tobacco had been unknown to the Illyri until they arrived on Earth. On Illyr, all narcotics were strictly controlled, and most citizens avoided them on health grounds anyway. The Illyri had tried banning tobacco in the first years of the invasion, and had failed utterly. Now low-tar tobacco was tolerated for human use. Illyri were forbidden to smoke, but some did anyway, buying strong tobacco on the black market, even though it was known that it was run by criminals, many of whom passed information to the Resistance.
    Ani shrugged. “It was only one cigarette, and I didn’t even like it that much. It was just bad luck. I was hanging out of my bedroom window to smoke it—so that the smell wouldn’t get into my room—and old Pops was passing through the Middle Ward and happened to look up, didn’t he?”
    “Busted! Busted big time,” said Syl.
    “He said that I couldn’t smoke if I didn’t have any money to buy cigarettes. Now I don’t even have enough to buy matches, never mind cigarettes.”
    “Well, good thing I like fruitcake, then,” said Syl.
    They sat by the window and stared out at the city, munching cake in silence. It seemed so peaceful from up here, and the sky was now such a vivid blue. But the view had changed for Syl, changed forever now that they’d come so close to death in the city below, now that they’d run with the humans, now that they’d hidden from their own. Ani clicked her tongue and sighed, for her thoughts were clearly in the same place.
    “I wonder if anyone was hurt in the explosion,” said Syl finally. “The lady who owned that coffee shop seemed nice. She never objected to serving me, even when I wasn’t disguised, and you know what some people are like.”
    Ani nodded. There were places in the city where Illyri were given the cold shoulder if they tried to shop or eat. There would be no service, no talk, only silence until they gave up and left the place to the humans. It was illegal, of course, and dangerous for the humans involved. The Securitats had been known to arrest people who refused to deal with the Illyri, but for the most part such actions were reluctantly tolerated. If nothing else, passive resistance was better than acts of violence.
    “Maybe she wasn’t there,” said Ani. “Maybe it was closed.”
    But Syl doubted it. The little coffee shop opened all day long, six days a week, and the homely owner was always behind the counter. Frances was her name. It was sewn on her apron.
    Had Syl believed in a god, she would have prayed for the soul of Frances. And she would have given thanks for the humans who’d come to their rescue.
    “Look,” said Ani. “Something’s happening outside.”
    Casual onlookers were being hustled away, and Securitats began to pour into the courtyard. That in itself was unusual: Lord Andrus was strict about keeping the day-to-day functions of the castle under