Cold Fire (Spiritwalker #2)

Cold Fire (Spiritwalker #2) Page 112

“Wardens! With lamps.”

The flash of destructive glee that flared in Kofi’s face made me wonder how much he hated the wardens and their masters, the Council. “Just what we have been waiting for,” he said in a tone that made me shiver.

Vai pulled me close. “Catherine. Go back to your friends. Stay high until the riot starts. Let the gals hide you. Don’t break away alone.”

“I am not helpless—!”

“Of course you aren’t!” His arm tightened around my back. “That’s not what I mean. It’s going to get ugly. I need you to make sure Kayleigh and Luce get home safely.”

I was momentarily taken aback by the realization that he had just entrusted his sister’s welfare to me, and that he was half embracing me. “Oh. Of course. What about you?”

“Come on,” said Kofi, and Vai released me as if startled to find himself holding me. They took off into the crowd. A hornet’s nest of angry buzzing rose in the trail of their passing. Anxious excitement crawled like mice along my skin. I climbed back to the gals.

“There’s going to be a riot,” I said as I reached them. “Stick close to each other, and we’ll get out safely.” They were smart gals. They listened. “Dee, you and me in the front. Luce, you right behind me with the others. Kayleigh and Tanny, you two use your size in the rear to make sure no one gets left behind. We have to get off the risers and through the crowd. No splitting up.”

A phalanx of wardens had appeared at either end of the long stone risers, on our cheap-seats side only. Not a one inflicted his lit lamp on the wealthy folk avidly watching the game on the other side of the court. The ball arced, struck dirt, bounced, and was sent on its way by a header.

Corncobs, coconut shell bowls, hanks of cassava bread, fruit peelings, and even fragments of broken ceramic cups began to fly. Voices sang out: “Ask for the wardens and what do yee get? Here to bully us, and never a kiss! Who do yee come to arrest? One law for the rich and one for the rest!”

“They shall not trample us today!” Whose voice it was that boomed over the clamor I did not know, but it sounded like Kofi.

Young men shoved forward in a wave. In a tide of linked arms the crowd mowed down the wardens entering at the northern end of the risers. A fight broke out at the southern end, staffs cracking down on unprotected heads but met by fists and knives. People flooded away from the disturbance, many hopping onto the ball court into the middle of the play. In the seats opposite, angry spectators bellowed for order as wardens took up stations to protect them from the crowd.

“The field is clearest!” Diantha quivered beside me like a hound ready to bolt its leash.

“No!” I cried. “We’re going straight through the fight.”

“But Cat—!” Luce’s face washed gray with fear.

“Trust me. In rows, Luce in the center. Link arms. Don’t get separated.”

I forged forward with Diantha as we shoved down the steps. I steered us to where the melee was like a churning tidal catchwater, current and swell and wind all slapping together to make a deadly confluence. But where the fight was worst, we had least chance of being marked out. The air pressure changed. My ears popped. Lamps shattered; rifles and pistols clicked, combustion was killed. The crowd roared and pushed hard into the collapsing line of wardens.

Luce was gulping down sobs, desperately trying to be brave, but Diantha showed no fear as she and I lanced like a spear through any gap we could see. I used my cane ruthlessly to thwack and thrust and trip. Diantha used her knees, elbows, and hips to make way. Tanny, at the rear, levered her weight against any rioter or warden who crashed against us. Kayleigh had the strength of a big-boned girl accustomed to fieldwork.

I ducked a blow and dragged Diantha sideways as a grasping hand caught at a corner of her kerchief. The other girls shoved us forward into an eddy of open ground where carts lay overturned. Liquid from kettles splashed everywhere, meat pies crushed and leaking their innards.

A pair of wardens spotted me. “Stop, there! We is to detain all maku gals—”

I drew gentle shadows over me, becoming nothing more than the flutter of a skirt and a scuff of dust. The wardens let us pass. Diantha hailed a cluster of huddled batey players in smeared and torn skirts marking them as Rays.

“Hey, gals! Come on!” she cried. “Let us get out of this hurricane.”

“Wardens told us to wait until all is cleared,” said their shaken captain.

A pistol went off, the report sharp and stunning. What had happened to Vai’s magic? If I ran back, I could help him, but Luce was crying and Kayleigh was trying to soothe her in a voice not much calmer than Luce’s tears, and Tanny was hauling along another girl who was in hysterics.