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A wave of red washed around them as Wyverns surrounded them, and then, comfortingly, a tight knot of blue as True Flame and Windwolf entered the clearing. Jewel Tear dropped her shields, so Tinker followed suit.

True Flame glanced at the kappa all but forgotten on the ground, and then to Tinker and Jewel Tear.

"What is going on here? Where did that kappa come from?"

"I pulled that out of the Ghostlands." Tinker stepped forward and gave it a slight kick to demonstrate it was frozen solid. "The Ghostlands must have instantly sucked the body heat out of it."

"She was talking with a tengu." Jewel Tear indicated the empty treetops.

"Yes, I was." Tinker saw no point in denying it. "We have a history together. He betrayed me to the oni and I beat the snot out of him for it. He found me and started the conversation."

"What did you speak about?" True Flame asked.

"I'm not sure what he wanted—they nearly killed me shooting at him."

Windwolf had moved between Jewel Tear and Tinker just as a
sekasha
would, his shields still up so he seemed to shimmer with anger. With Tinker's explanation, he took a step toward Jewel Tear. "How dare you?"

Jewel Tear jerked up her chin. "That was an unfortunate and unforeseeable accident. Forgiveness, Tinker
ze domi
."

Tinker nodded but Windwolf shook his head.

"If you harm my
domi
," Windwolf growled, "It will not be the Fire Clan that you'll be answering to."

"Wolf Who Rules—" True Flame snapped.

"I will not suffer future 'unfortunate' accidents. There will be no forgiveness."

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True Flame studied Windwolf for a moment and then nodded. "That is your right."

Windwolf caught Tinker's hand. "Come." And he pulled her out of the clearing.

"Wait, my stuff."

"Leave it."

"No!" She jerked her hand free. "I'm not done here."

"You are for right now."

"No, no, no. I'm sick of this. Come here, go there, do this. My grandfather died five years ago, thank you, and I was happy making decisions for myself."

"These are royal holdings now." Windwolf swept a hand to take in the whole valley. "I cannot make her leave."

"So you're making me?" Tinker cried.

"Yes."

"No."

"Beloved. I do not trust her. I cannot stay here and watch over you now and I cannot make her leave."

As always, he seemed to cover all the options—leaving her no good choice but to do what he wanted.

This time she shook her head. "No. Again and again, you don't tell me enough to form my own options.

All I know are your options and I'm not playing that anymore."

"Be reasonable."

"Reasonable? What is reasonable about taking the smartest person in this city and making them deaf and blind? I'm supposed to walk away from my work, leaving behind my currently irreplaceable equipment,
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because some female from the other side of the world is not playing nice in my backyard?"

"I told you that I cannot stay and I cannot make her leave."

"And those are the only options because they're the only ones you have thought of? You know, if I had a level playing field I could come up with options of my own."

"I do not have time to explain it all."

"Of course not. You never have time."

"Beloved . . ."

"Don't 'Beloved' me. Did you know that—until Pony told me, I didn't know the name of your mother?

That I didn't know that you—and I—could use Fire Clan spell stones? I don't even know when I'm going to have a period! I'm stuck in this stranger's body and no one tells me diddly. And when did I agree to be called Beloved Tinker? I think I should at least be able to pick out my own name."

Windwolf looked stunned at her outburst and after a moment, said quietly, "Your name is . . . short."

"Tinker isn't my real name. My real name is Alexander Graham Bell."

"It is? I did not know that."

"Score one for me."

"Beloved—Tinker—Alexan . . . der?" He floundered for a moment. "Isn't that considered a male name?"

"I can hold my own with Jewel Tear. I'm not done here, and I'm not leaving my stuff."

"No, you cannot hold your own." Windwolf caught her by her shoulders. "Do not ever think that you can. Only you can sense her magic—so it is possible for her to attack you without your
sekasha
knowing it. She could make a tree fall, the ground give way, dozens of little ways that you
do not know
."

"You really think she would try to kill me?"

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"Yes."

"Any one of us," Stormsong added in English, "can make a bullet ricochet and hit a target. The tengu was a convenient excuse."

Tinker turned to her and saw in her eyes that none of her
sekasha
took the event as an accident. They hadn't relaxed until Windwolf and True Flame appeared.

"But why?" she asked.

"Because the Stone Clan stands to gain much if you are dead and I'm distracted. Because she is a self-centered, ambitious bitch."

That was unnerving. Tinker kicked at the dirt, not wanting to leave, hating that once again she was bowing to his limited options. "Can we can get True Flame to order her out of the area?"

"No, we must let her try and fix this valley."

Tinker laughed. "With what?"

"Magic."

She doubted that greatly, but she was up against the wall of her own ignorance. "I'm the one that made this mess. I'll be the one that fixes it."

"That is quite possible. Stone Clan, however, has assured True Flame that they can quickly fix the Ghostlands, while you said you needed to study it further. Everyone knows that you were being realistic—but True Flame had to believe the Stone Clan or it would be an insult to them."

"God forbid he insults them." Tinker growled and looked back toward the Discontinuity's edge and her abandoned equipment.

"
Domi
, I will bring your things," Stormsong offered. "I am not totally ignorant of these computer things."

Since Stormsong could manage the Rolls Royce and the walkie-talkie, she should be able to disconnect the equipment and carry it back to the enclave unharmed. Tinker sighed and nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

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Windwolf signaled that Cloudwalker would accompany Stormsong, and the two
sekasha
moved off.

"There is so much I need to know," Tinker said to him. "And if we're really going to be husband and wife—you need to take the time for me. How do you expect me to trust you when you keep throwing me in the pool to sink or swim?"

He sighed deeply and scrubbed his hands over his face. "I want to be there for you—protect you—but I can't. It's killing me that you're in the water and floundering—but the only other option I have is to lock you away someplace safe, and that would only kill you faster. The only thing that has kept me sane so far is knowing that you're actually very good at finding your own way out of the water."

After seeing his
domi
safely back to Poppymeadow's, Wolf went in search of Earth Son to lodge his complaint. He found Earth Son at the palace clearing, pacing it out as if he planned to claim the piece of land for himself. Apparently the Stone Clan
domana
had expected the
aumani
as soon as they arrived in Pittsburgh; Earth Son wore a full tunic of rich green silk and a gold burnt velvet duster with a stone horse pattern. Like Jewel, he had a spell orb keeping him cool in the muggy Pittsburgh summer.

Wolf closed the distance between them. "Earth Son, I will have a word with you."

Earth Son had inherited his father's height, so he was slightly taller than Wolf. He tried to use it to look down on Wolf, but then ruined the effect by doing a sketchy bow. "Wolf Who Rules."

Wolf was too angry to acknowledge the veiled insult of Earth Son's greeting. "Has the Stone Clan all run mad? We do not know the number of the oni forces, and the way between our worlds is not fully shut, and you're already asking for a clan war."

"Us?" Earth Son feigned confusion.

"I may be young, but I spent my doubles at court. I recognize power maneuvering when I see it."

"You are seeing things that are not there—like your so-called oni." Earth Son's First, Thorne Scratch, tried to silence her
domou
with a hand on his shoulder. Earth Son flicked the female
sekasha's
hand away. "I have been out for hours doing scrys." He waved toward the forest beyond the clearing. "And found nothing remotely resembling an oni. 'I can see the shadows of the oni on the wall,' is that not what you said at court? Apparently that's all that you've seen—shadows! You're jumping at phantoms if you ask me."

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Wolf didn't even bother with magic. He stepped forward and caught Earth Son by the throat. "Listen, you little turd, my
domi
is under the queen's protection, which means you are not to attack her. But if you can't get that through that rock skull of yours, then understand this—if she is hurt in any way, I will hunt you down and tear out your throat."

"You would not dare," Earth Son managed to whisper.

"I started with nothing here. I can do it again. If my
domi
is killed, I will let the crown strip me bare to have my revenge. Do not think our royal cousin will protect you either—after you shit all over the queen's commands, True Flame will not stop me."

"I cannot be held accountable for what that the others—"

"You are clan head for this area and I will hold you responsible."

"Forest Moss is mad!"

"If you didn't want the disadvantages that the mad one brings with him, you shouldn't have chosen him."

"I didn't choose him."

Earth Son's Hand looked relieved as the clearing filled with Wyverns.

"Wolf." True Flame followed on the wash of red. "Let him go."

Wolf released Earth Son, turning over this new piece of information. He knew that Earth Son did not have considerable standing in the Stone Clan, but he thought that Earth Son would have at least been party to picking out the clan
domana
that would be under him. Now that Wolf had talked with Forest Moss and Jewel Tear and learned their situations, their inclusion seemed less a personal attack on the Wind Clan, and more a statement of the Stone Clan's assessment of Pittsburgh. They had sent two of their most disposable
domana
. Or was the count three?

In the clans, birth did not guarantee rank. It was acknowledged, though, that children of the clan leaders learned much from observing their parents. Genetically, too, the leaders were the best that the clans had to offer. True, barring accident or assassination, it was unlikely clan heads would ever change—but as his mother's only child, Earth Son was a likely future leader. Then again, he had arrived with only one Hand.

Was he escort for the other two, or fellow exile? If the latter, what had Earth Son done to be sent to Pittsburgh?

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"I did nearly a hundred scrys," Earth Son reported to True Flame while he rubbed his throat. "There's no oni here."

"The oni are savage but not stupid," Wolf snapped. "Acting quickly is not to their advantage. They are hiding themselves well and waiting for the best time to strike."

Earth Son scoffed at this. "If that was the case, they should have struck while you were here alone, with even your voice turned against you."

"They tried. They failed." Wolf did not mention how near the assassination had come to succeeding. The brutal attack killed one of his
sekasha
, damaged one of his hands, and stranded him deep in Pittsburgh's territory just as it returned to Earth. If not for Tinker, the plot would have succeeded. "If the Ghostlands can be used to their advantage, they will wait for reinforcements."

"Wolf is right," True Flame said. "That they managed to stay hidden for nearly thirty years shows that they have patience. No matter what happens, we need you to ferret them out."

13: IGNORE THAT MAN

BEHIND THE CURTAIN

Tinker sat high up on a towering cross, clinging to the crossbrace. Black was sitting at the very end of the crossbrace, sobbing quietly. The delicate-boned woman wore a puffy black mourning gown and a crown. Lying beside her was a long wand with a star attached to it. Her host of crows sailed overhead, cawing, "Lost, Lost!"

With a flurry of wings, Riki perched on the tip of the brace between Tinker and Black. He was wearing an odd red outfit. "There's no shame in being afraid of heights. Most people are."

"Oh, go away, monkey boy," she snapped.

"I'm not a flying monkey," the tengu said. "I gave that up. You melted the witch, so I got out of my no-compete contract. I'm working strictly as a freelance crow. The health benefits suck, but I make my own hours."

Tinker pointed to the sobbing Black. "Why is she crying?"

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"She gave her heart to the Tin Man but she lost him," Riki told her. "Not even the wizard can fix that."

"Hey!" On the ground, Esme gazed up at them, wearing blue checked overalls and red ruby boots. "You can't get down. Your not smart enough. You're head is full of straw."

"I'll figure a way down," Tinker shouted back.

"Falling will work," Riki said.

And Tinker was falling.

The dream seemed to hiccup and she was safe on the ground then. Esme had a wicker basket and a little black dog. Pony was there, his hair loose and curly as a mane, whiskers, cat ears and tail to finish the cat look. Oilcan too, looking like he was made out of metal.