The Shifter by Janice Hardy Page A

home, Aylin’s corner, and the boardinghouse. I’d keep making circles between them until he showed his blank-as-a-Saint’s face, then confront him. Demand to know where Tali was. Make him take me to her.
    More footsteps tap-tap-tapping. And tapping…and tapping…like everyone in the room had suddenly up and left.
    I lifted my head and glared at Saint Saea, who was doing a piss-poor job keeping her Sanctuary quiet.
    Someone sat down on the bench next to me. Yellow and green flickered at the edge of my vision.
    Saints and sinners, she did listen!
    It was the second fancy man, the one from last night. This close he was even fancier, his black hair stark against the colorful silk. Pressed silk too, and not a speck on it, despite the rain and muddy puddles.
    “Are you Merlaina?” he asked.
    For a moment I blinked, confused. Oh! Merlaina was the name I had given the Elder yesterday morning. So even though they’d found me, they didn’t know who I really was. I lunged, muscles screaming protest, and grabbed a handful of perfect silk.
    I shoved him down on the bench. “Where’s my sister?”
    “What? I don’t know—get off me.”
    Shocked gasps and worried cries drowned out the echoing footsteps as the few remaining folks ran from our scuffle. I had to threaten quick. Somebody was bound to get their wits back and go find a patrol.
    “Tell me where she is!”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shoved back, lifting me off the bench like a sack of coffee beans. He grabbed both my arms tight, and my eyes watered. “Settle down, girl.”
    He loosened his hold on my arms. I twisted and gripped his now-mussed silk shirt. He grabbed my wrists this time, but I’d worked two fingers under his sleeve and felt flesh beneath. “Tell me where she is or else.”
    He paused for a heartbeat, then glanced upward and sighed. “Stop being difficult and come with—aarrhhcck!” he cried, collapsing as I pushed the last of my pain into him. He released me and grabbed his thigh.
    “Where is she?”
    I heard chuckling coming from the entrance. I snapped my head around as Fancy Man One strolled in. He wore red today. No wonder I couldn’t find him. “Take it easy, Merlaina ,” he said, keeping a row of benches between us.
    I backed away and bumped into Saint Saea. Her outstretched hands fit my shoulders perfectly.
    “You’re safe—you don’t have to run.”
    As if I could run anywhere with a Saint holding me down. “Where’s my sister?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Liar!”
    Fancy Man Two groaned and sat up, his face pale and sweaty from the pain. “Did you see what that ’Veg did to me?”
    “Quiet, Morell. I said she was dangerous.” Fancy Man One smiled, but I couldn’t tell if it meant humor or disdain.
    “You’re an ass, Jeatar.”
    Fancy Man One laughed, but at least now I had both their names. In the bedtime stories Mama used to read us, names gave you power over things. I could sure use a little of that.
    “We have no interest in your sister,” Jeatar said. “Just you.”
    My hot anger chilled. If they didn’t have Tali, then who did?
    “Now come along quietly before the patrol arrives and they find out what you can do. I’m sure both the Governor-General and the League would be very interested.”
    It could have been an empty threat, but it didn’t seem wise to test Morell, even if he was having a hard time getting to his feet.
    Despite my trembling, I elbowed Saint Saea in her cold marble gut. It was stupid, but somehow this felt like it was all her fault.
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SIX
    W e left the Sanctuary and turned right, toward one of the richer neighborhoods. The closer we got, the more dark-haired people we passed, and more than a few shot a glare my way. Jeatar kept a hand on my upper arm, gripping it tight, but not enough to hurt, while Morell limped close by without touching me. Was this what had happened to Tali? Had they grabbed her on the way home from the gardens and