Fate's Edge

KALDAR passed the binoculars to Audrey. They were parked out of the way, in the back lot of Vans, a large grocery store, their stolen car just an anonymous vehicle among all the others. A few hundred yards down, a large brown-and-beige building sat in the back of a parking lot, couched in large California sycamores and flame trees, blazing with bright red flowers. The Church of the Blessed. Sturdy, solid, brand-new, with large, spotless windows and a large portico before the double-doors entrance. The building had no steeple, no bell tower, nothing to mark it as a church. If anything, it resembled a small convention center.

Audrey took the binoculars. Her fingertips brushed his hand. In his head, he was kissing her, tasting those raspberry lips. Of course, in his little fantasy she loved it. Idly, he wondered if she wanted him to kiss her. Would she pull back, would she melt into the kiss, would she . . .

"Children," she said, passing the binoculars back to him.

He looked. A throng of adolescent boys made their way to the doors, each carrying something pale . . . Kaldar zoomed in. "Flyers. They're carrying flyers."

Audrey reached for the binoculars, and he let her have them. "They're a skinny lot," she murmured. "Probably runaways. It's warm here. The city is full of them. He's using them as walking advertisements."

A man in his early thirties, carrying a placard, followed the kids. The doors opened, and two women brought out a cart filled with sandwiches. The children lined up. The man thrust his placard into the lawn and joined the end of the line.

"Come to Jesus and live an abundant life," Audrey read. "He's a prosperity preacher, all right. Ugh."

"I meant to ask you about that," Kaldar said. "What is a prosperity preacher?"

Audrey took the binoculars from her face. Her eyes were huge with surprise and outrage. She looked hilarious.

"You don't know what a prosperity preacher is, but you took the job anyway?"

"I have you to explain it."

"Kaldar!"

He leaned closer. "I like the way you say my name, love. Say it again."

She plucked a paper map off the dashboard. "No."

"Auudreey?" He toyed with a lock of her hair. His voice dropped into the quiet intimate murmur that usually got him laid. "Say my name."

She leaned toward him, her eyelids half-lowered, her long eyelashes fanning her cheeks. She tilted her face to his, close, closer. Her lips parted.

Here it comes.

"Dumb-ass."

Ouch.

She tapped his forehead with the map. "Focus on the job."

The woman drove him crazy. "I would focus, but I've been rejected and must now wallow in self-pity. So prosperity preachers. What are they?"

Audrey sighed. "How much do you know about Christianity?"

"I've read the Bible," he told her. "The good parts."

"Let me guess, the ones with wars and rich kings and women?"

He gave her an innocent look. "We've barely met, and yet you know me so well."

"The New Testament, that's the one with Jesus, in case you didn't know, doesn't care for rich people. There is a story in the Gospel of Matthew, where a rich prince visits Jesus and asks him how he could get into Heaven. And Jesus tells him to keep the Commandments, and if he really wants to ensure his place in Heaven, to give away all his possessions to the poor. That's where that famous verse comes from, 'It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.' There are more things in the same vein. Mark and Luke and James, all of them basically said that the richer you are, the harder it is to go to Heaven because rich people fall into temptation and surrender to their greed."

" 'The love of money is the root of all evil.'" He had read the Bible, and the quote had stuck with him. He took it as a warning.

"Timothy 6:10." Audrey shrugged.

"From the way I'm looking at it, poverty doesn't lead to love and happiness, either."

She waved her hand at him. "Bottom line is, Christians are supposed to be rich in spirit, not in money. Well, if you're doing well for yourself and you're a Christian, that kind of leaves you with two choices: either you can keep giving away your money to get into Heaven, or you can pretend that everything will be okay anyway and hope you won't go to Hell. Prosperity preachers prey on that fear: they preach that God wants us all to be rich and happy, and it's okay to have extra money and live a good life full of luxuries."

"It's a good gig," Kaldar reflected. "Nobody wants to go to church and be condemned every Sunday, and the congregation is either rich already or - "

"Hoping to get rich," Audrey finished.

"Good works aren't necessary - besides giving generously to the church, of course."

"Of course." Audrey wrinkled her nose. "The church needs money."

Indeed. "All that guilt and all those assets, wrapped in a lovely package."

"Delicious, like a chocolate truffle." Audrey licked her lips, and he had to yank his thoughts out of the gutter and back on target. "Outside a hard shell of moral decency, inside creamy, decadent bank accounts."

Kaldar tapped the wheel. "Sign the check, send it to the business office."

"Better yet, give us your account number, we'll do the heavy lifting of withdrawing funds for you."

"Easy money."

"Yep. The whole church full of suckers."

They looked at each other and grinned.

"If we joined forces, how quick do you think we could clean out this town?" Audrey asked.

Kaldar calculated in his head. "We'd be millionaires in six months. Faster if you did your Southern bit."

They both looked at the church and the children in front of it. "So does the Mirror pay you well?" Audrey asked.

"Not enough to buy any mansions," he said.

They looked at the church some more. "Being good guys sucks sometimes," Audrey said.

"Would you really go through with it?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. A church should be a place of solace. For some people, that's all they have to lean on when tragedy happens. You'd have to be a special kind of scumbag to prey on that."

There was an echo of something personal there; but he knew if he probed, she'd slam all her doors shut.

"Plenty of scumbags out there." Kaldar started the car. A plan had formed in his head.

"Yes, we never seem to have a shortage of those."

"We need someone on the inside to figure out how this whole Yonker dog and pony show works."

"You want to pull off a Night and Day scam and use the boys for the Night team, don't you?"

The way she picked up his train of thought was uncanny. The two kids were the perfect age to blend in with the runaways.

"They can handle it."

"And if they can't?"

"Those kids have been through more than most adults. I ran cons at their age. Don't tell me you didn't."

"You and I had no choice," she told him.

"I will ask them. I won't order."

"Right, what fourteen-year-old would turn that adventure down?"

He understood exactly where that worry was coming from. Audrey felt used by her family. It had left scars, and she was trying to make sure the boys weren't exploited. She didn't realize both kids had been in combat training for the past four or five years. She didn't know that Jack killed game on a regular basis, and George could sever a body in half with a burst of his flash. To her, they were children, and she looked at them through the prism of her own experience.

"Don't underestimate them," Kaldar said. "George looks fragile, but he is well trained. Gaston put them through their paces, and George can hold his own. The kid is brilliant. He is truly, all jokes aside, brilliant. He's an Edger, and the bluebloods never let him forget it. Things other children of his social status take for granted are out of his reach."

"It's not enough to be good," Audrey said. "He has to be the best. But George doesn't worry me. Jack does."

Kaldar shrugged. "Jack is a teenager with a chip on his shoulder. I was one, you were one, I'm sure everyone has been there at one time or another. Once he snaps out of his 'the world is against me' rut, he's a resourceful, smart kid. And unlike most changelings, he's pretty sharp when it comes to figuring out what drives other people. He likes to pretend he understands less than he does."

"Why?"

"He's a cat," Kaldar said. "It's in his nature, I suppose. Don't worry. He will hold his own."

"You seem awfully sure of that. George said you barely know the two of them."

"I know William," Kaldar said. "He's married to my cousin, Cerise, who is more like my baby sister. If her life and happiness were at stake, William would burn the world just to see her smile. Jack is a changeling like William. He would move the earth and the moon to protect his brother.

"So you're using one child to manipulate another." Audrey shook her head. "Do you have any conscience at all?"

"No. I didn't ask them to come with me. They want this, and they're old enough to understand the risks."

Audrey looked away from him and through the window. He studied her profile out of the corner of his eye. Pouting? No, calculating.

"If you and I are the day, I'll need to go shopping," she said. "It won't be cheap. Do we have to grift for the money?"

Their minds ran like two trains on parallel tracks. Kaldar had never come across anyone like her. He didn't have to explain himself, or justify anything, or convince her that his scheme would work. She just snapped his ideas out of thin air and ran with them. Even when he worked a con with his family, he still had to sell them on it, taking them through the plan bit by bit, but then most of his family excelled at killing or magic, often both. He excelled at burglary, grift, and making money by any means necessary. It wasn't that they didn't love him or trust him, but none of them understood him. Audrey did. He wanted to sit her down and ask questions until he knew everything there was to know about her, down to the most minute detail. But the moment he did that, she would run like a deer. That was what he would do in her place.

And she was so damn pretty. He rifled through adjectives: "sexy," "hot," "desirable," none of them was right enough. Delectable. Delicious. No, she was a woman, not a pastry. He ran out of words and gave up. He wanted her. He needed her like a man in a room full of smoke needed a breath of fresh air. He wanted to peel off her clothes and kiss those lovely breasts and . . .

"Earth to Kaldar?"

"Yes, love?"

"Do we have to grift for the money? And don't call me 'love.'"

"Why spend our own if we don't have to?" He was dying to see her work. This was his chance. He looked at her and tested the waters. "Is that a problem, love?"

Audrey turned to him, a sly little spark hiding in her eyes. "The only man who gets to call me 'love' would be waking up next to me after a very, very fun night."

Fun night. Oh yes.

"Guess what?" She leaned closer. "You will never be that man."

Kaldar laughed. "If I wanted to, you would be waking up next to me, lying with my arm around you every morning. You would wiggle closer to me in bed just so I could pet your butt."

"My goodness, you think you're God's gift to women, don't you? You poor, deluded man."

He hit her with his best smile. Her eyes widened. She took a deep breath. "Oh no, not that seductive face. I'm overcome with the need to take off these awful clothes. What is happening? I do not understand. Oooh. Ahhh." She touched her wrist to her forehead. "Somebody help me. I'm being drenched with my own fluids."

Evil woman.

"See now, you shouldn't have done that," Kaldar said.

She gave him an innocent look.

"You've made yourself into a challenge. Now I'll have to seduce you out of principle."

"You can try. Not that you'll get anywhere. If you were in love, that would be one thing, but we both know this is pride talking." Audrey patted his forearm. "It's all right. I won't tell anybody about your shameful failure. I'll keep it completely confidential." She pretended to lock her lips and throw away the key.

"I'll remind you of this when you're collapsing on my sheets, all happy and out of breath." He leaned closer. "I'm picturing it in my head. Mmm, you look lovely."

"Whatever fantasies help you get through the day," Audrey said.

"So kind of you."

"I'm all about being charitable when it doesn't cost me anything."

Charity? For me?

Before this was all over, either they would be lovers or they'd kill each other. Right now, he had no idea which it would be.

005

AUDREY stared out the window. The car suffered from a desperate lack of space, especially when it came to the front. Specifically, the front seats. Specifically, Kaldar in the front seat, who was sitting entirely too close.

And Kaldar was getting hotter by the minute. When they'd first met, he was handsome, then hot, and now he had moved into the irresistible category. When he'd leaned toward her and said her name in that bedroom voice, every nerve in her body came to attention. She actually got the shivers. If he'd leaned in and kissed her, she would've kissed him right back, then she would've slapped him again, just so he wouldn't get any ideas. She liked looking at him. She liked the sound of his voice. She liked when he paid attention to her. They were in the Broken, which meant that Kaldar's increasing hotness couldn't be magic, and that left only one explanation: she was falling for him.

Audrey glanced at him. He turned to her right when she looked and gave her his evil grin. Wow. She was in so much trouble. Audrey rolled her eyes and looked back through her window.

If they were strapped for cash, they could just sit Kaldar on a street corner with an empty coffee can and a phone book to read. They'd make decent money until the cops chased them off because crowds of women were obstructing traffic. It wasn't just his looks. Looks alone she could resist. It was the wicked glint in his eyes. He was a smart, sly bastard, quick on his feet and equipped with a silver tongue. He could run circles around the best professionals she knew.

Audrey hid a sigh. Before her grandmother died, she had given Audrey only one piece of advice: never fall in love with a conman. Conmen couldn't stop grifting. It was like a drug, an addiction, like her lock picking. And born con artists like Kaldar grifted for the hell of it. Everything was a game to them, and pretty soon the game became not just "can I take this poor sucker's money" but "can I fool my wife into thinking I'm where I'm supposed to be." Eventually the game would turn into "can I keep my ball and chain from knowing about all of my women on the side," and you would end up with your heart crushed into dust. She'd seen her father do it, she'd seen Alex do it when he was still sober, and she'd seen other conmen do it. They lied, oh how they lied.

Kaldar was too talented, too clever, and too full of pride not to play the game. She didn't even know the real him. He showed her what he thought she wanted to see. And he would expect her to be okay with all of it because she knew the score from the start. All the girls in the business knew it. Marry a mobster, take collect calls from prison. Marry a gambler, hide your paycheck. Marry a conman, nurse a broken heart. You made your bed, and you had to lie in it.

No, thank you. No matter how fast her pulse sped up when he played with her hair, she didn't want that kind of heartache. Nor did she want to be somebody's "ball and chain" or "old lady." If a man thought she cramped his style that much, he could go and find himself someone else. She needed someone straightforward and dependable - but then those guys were boring. Audrey smiled to herself. There was always time to settle down to boring and dependable. Flirting with Kaldar was fun. She might even dip her toes into those waters, but she wouldn't be taking a swim anytime soon. Unless, of course, she wrapped him around her finger first.

Now that would be a challenge.

JACK perched on the wyvern's back and watched the scrubby forest around them. The little cat he'd rescued in the Broken lay next to him, curled into a tight, furry ball. He wasn't as skinny now, and Jack had cut and washed most of the green paint off his fur. The little cat still didn't meow or purr, but he followed Jack around the camp like a baby duck after his mother. Not that Jack minded.

A little farther off, closer to the wyvern's hips, Ling the Merciless watched them with alert, suspicious eyes. Kaldar and Audrey were gone, and without Audrey, the raccoon turned into a nervous, listless ninny. Usually if a raccoon was out in daylight, it was sick, desperate, or rabid. This one sat out right under the sunshine and didn't care. Weirdo.

Below, George was going through his fencing routine. Lunge, scoot back, lunge, scoot back. Gaston had been gone for most of the day, too. He said he was going to gather information from the locals, but now he was back, writing something down in a notebook.

The sun baked the wyvern's back. Jack stretched. Mmmm, warm. Strange creatures, wyverns. The schoolbooks said that they were extremely smart, smarter than dogs, smarter than foxes, but Jack couldn't see how one would find out how smart a wyvern was. When he wasn't flying, the wyvern lay still, like a rock. The only time he came to life was when Gaston dumped buckets of food paste into his mouth in the morning.

Jack stirred. The little cat twitched an ear, opened one yellow eye, and looked at him. Jack raised his finger to his lips, and told him, "Shhh. Stay." The little cat closed his eyes.

Jack slid off and padded to the wyvern's head, silent like a shadow. Smart, right. Let's just see. He passed the blue shoulder, the long neck, as thick as a century-old tree, the brilliant blue fringe that protruded from the corner of the wyvern's jaw.

The heavy eyelids snapped open. Jack froze.

A huge gold-and-amber eye, as big as a dinner platter, stared at him. The dark pupil shrank, focusing.

Jack stood very still.

The colossal head turned, the scaled lip only three feet from Jack. The golden eyes gazed at him, swirling with fiery color.

Jack breathed in tiny, shallow breaths.

Don't blink. Don't blink . . .

Two gusts of wind erupted from the wyvern's nostrils. Jack jumped straight up, bounced off the ground into another jump, and scrambled up the nearest tree.

In the clearing, Gaston bent over, guffawing like an idiot.

"It's not funny!"

"He knows you're there, you dimwit. He just chooses not to care."

The wyvern lowered his head.

George straightened and sheathed his rapier. "Kaldar and Audrey are back."

Jack climbed down from the tree before anyone asked him any uncomfortable questions. That's all he needed. Especially since Audrey would be there. Audrey was . . . pretty. Really, really pretty.

Ten minutes later, when Kaldar and Audrey came up the path, he was sitting on the wyvern again. That way, nobody would think that he was scared. Not that he was. He was just cautious.

"We have a job," Kaldar called out. "Come here."

Jack slid down the wing and came over to sit by George. It took Kaldar about fifteen minutes to explain about Magdalene and Ed Yonker.

"I may be overstepping myself," George said, "but why don't we just steal the invitation?"

"It won't work," Audrey told him. "First, we don't know where it is."

"Second," Kaldar continued, "if we steal it, she would let Morell know we have it. We'd walk straight into a trap."

"I thought she hated him," George said.

"Hate doesn't mean 'doesn't do business,' " Kaldar told him.

"He's right. It's a very costly mistake to make," Audrey said.

Kaldar turned to his nephew. "Gaston, did you get anything on Yonker?"

Gaston flipped open his notebook. "Ed's a local. Born and bred in the Edge. His parents still live about six miles east of here. The Edge here looks like Swiss cheese - you know, the one with holes. Bubbles of the Edge pop up all over in the Weird and in the Broken. The boundary is very thin, and the Edge itself isn't that wide, but there are a lot of people living here, and there are several powerful merchant families. The families keep the peace."

"Makes sense," Kaldar said. "Conflict is bad for business."

"Ed's not too well liked. The expectation was that when he made it big, he'd hire his buddies, but he brought in outside talent instead. The locals aren't getting any crumbs of his pie. Magdalene isn't that well liked, either. She isn't exactly trustworthy. Here's an interesting tidbit: Magdalene and Yonker almost had themselves a feud a couple of times, and they were seriously warned that if they started any sort of fighting, the families would squash them. All their fun and games would be over."

"So they have to play nice," Audrey said. "And Magdalene is using us to walk around the rules."

"Pretty much. Yonker's got a compound in the Edge, about twenty acres, fenced in, and guarded like there are state secrets inside. There are a lot of guards, and they're well trained. That's where his Wooden Cathedral is."

Audrey rolled her eyes.

"The scam works like this." Gaston checked his notes again. "He invites wealthy people into his church, flirts with them for a while, and if they've got the dough, he invites them to his private retreat, to the Wooden Cathedral. They go in normal, and they come out thinking he's a prophet. Whatever gadget he's got in there, it works."

Kaldar looked at George.

George frowned. "Crowd-control devices are illegal except in Gardens of Bliss, and there you have to sign a liability form."

"Is a Garden of Bliss as bad as it sounds?" Audrey asked.

"No, but when I first heard the name, I thought it was a brothel," Kaldar said. "It's a last resort for people who are depressed and suicidal. You sign a consent form and splash around in a garden with pretty flowers and ponds of warm water while good feelings are being pumped into you by magic."

Audrey blinked. "Oh."

"It could be a Vilad Lantern," George said. "Or some sort of emotional emitter. I'd have to see it to say for sure."

"Anything more about Ed?" Kaldar glanced at Gaston.

"Not much. Ed's greedy, and he likes nice things: expensive cars, good clothes, bling - that's apparently something to do with flashy jewelry. He likes women too, but all those are collateral vices. Ed ultimately gets off on crowds worshipping his every footstep. He wants to be a big shot. He actually gives money to the San Diego Children's Center, and he attends the charity dinners and all that."

Kaldar and Audrey glanced at each other.

"Explains the kids," Audrey said.

"The Blessed Youth Witness," Gaston said. "He gets street kids to work for him. They give out flyers, and he gives them a place to stay in his Witness Camp during the summer at his compound. Middle-aged women with money love it."

"Do we know where the camp is?" Kaldar asked.

Gaston shook his head. "No. But we do know he's got people with rifles and live ammo guarding it. Also, it's protected by enough defensive spells to hold off an army. It used to be his old family place. The Yonkers were a really strong Edge family a few years back, but now only Ed and his parents are left. The wards on that puppy are a century old."

"Nice." Audrey sighed. "So breaking in and stealing the magical brain-cooking device is out of the question."

Kaldar glanced at George. "How complicated are these devices usually?"

George shrugged. "Well, the inside is complicated, but most of the time they're designed to look like normal objects. When you want to manipulate someone's emotions, it's better that people don't know they're being manipulated. They tend to take that sort of thing badly."

"So what are we talking about?" Gaston asked. "Like a vase or something?"

"Not exactly." George got up. "Usually it's jewelry. For the emitter to work, I'd need to position it between me and the person I wanted to influence. So let's say I want to manipulate Kaldar." He turned to Kaldar. "I could probably have a bracelet emitter and lean on my fist or something, so the bracelet faces him." George bent his arm so his wrist faced Kaldar.

"You look stupid," Jack told him.

"Exactly," George agreed. "The object has to be something inconspicuous. And usually the object will be inert until the user focuses their magic into it."

"So wait," Gaston said. "It won't work for just anyone?"

"No," George said. "You have to have some magic talent in emotional manipulation already. These devices just make that kind of magic stronger. Since Yonker manipulates a crowd, you're looking for something with range, so the magic goes out at a wide angle. Like a crown or some sort of device he holds between himself and them."

"He wouldn't wear a crown," Audrey said. "This is an American congregation we're talking about. They wouldn't stand for that.

"So first we have to find out what the device looks like," Kaldar said. "Then we make a copy."

"Out of what?" Audrey stared at him.

"Memory plaster," Kaldar said. "The Mirror gave me a tub of it. If you expose it to the right magic, it will mimic glass, metal, or wood. Gaston is very good with it."

Audrey frowned. "And again, to get that close to Yonker very fast, we'll need money. Lots and lots of money."

"I am confused," Jack said.

"So am I," George said.

"Yeah, can we be in on the plan?" Gaston asked.

"Let me explain," Kaldar said. "Yonker has a magic gadget that manipulates people's emotions. He is probably keeping it in the camp in the woods. We need to steal that gadget."

"I got that part," Jack said. "But how do we steal it?"

"There are two ways," Kaldar continued. "First, we must find out where and how the gadget is guarded. To find that out, we'll need to infiltrate Yonker's camp, which is why we're going with this plan."

"You're getting them more confused," Audrey said. "Can I step in here for a second?"

"Sure." Kaldar invited her with a sweep of his hand.

"This heist is called Night and Day," Audrey said. "There are two teams: Day team and Night team. The two teams pretend not to know each other. Jack and George will be the Night team.

Jack exhaled. Finally. Something to do besides sitting on the wyvern. Yes!

Audrey continued. "Yonker's church takes in runaway children. You boys will pretend to be runaways, get Yonker church people to let you work for the church, and try to get into the camp. Once in the camp, George, you can use your necromancy to find the gadget and figure out how heavily it's protected. You have to be sneaky and avoid attracting attention."

"Meanwhile," Kaldar added, "Audrey and I will be the Day team. We will approach Yonker out in the open and draw a lot of attention to ourselves. Yonker will concentrate on us."

"Here comes the fun part." Audrey smiled. "If the gadget isn't well protected, then the Night team will either steal it or tell us, and we'll sneak in and steal it together."

Kaldar nodded. "If the gadget is too well protected, then the Day team will swap the real gadget for the fake one in broad daylight, pocket the real item, and walk right out of there."

Gaston raised his hand. "Question: what happens when Yonker figures out that the gadget is a fake?"

"All hell will break loose," Kaldar said. "But the gadget switch should buy us enough time to get out."

"And if it doesn't?" Gaston asked.

"Then we go to Plan C and cut our way out," Kaldar said.

"I like that plan," Gaston said.

"Let's hope it won't come to that." Audrey looked at George, then at Jack. "This heist usually takes a lot of time. We don't have time because that blond bitch is on our trail. We'll be very rushed. There can be no mistakes, guys. No room for error. Do you understand?"

Jack nodded. No mistakes, got it.

"And if we tell you to get out, you run," Audrey said. "You run, and you don't look back."

"Listen to her," Kaldar said. "If we pull the plug in the middle of the heist, you two walk away. Clear?"

Jack nodded again.

"Can the two of you handle pretending to be runaways for a couple of days?" Kaldar asked.

George nodded. "We can do it."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Audrey said. "These are unscrupulous people. We don't know what they will do, but we may not be there to help you. It's real, and it's dangerous."

And they were not babies. "We'll be fine," Jack said. "I'll take care of George."

"I'm not worried about George." Kaldar stared at him. It was a dominant, hard stare. Jack felt invisible hackles rise on his back. To the right, Gaston rose, his jaw set, and moved to stand by Kaldar's side. Gaston's silvery eyes glared at Jack. Ready to fight.

"Why would you worry about me?"

"You're a whiny baby," Gaston said.

What?

"You like to feel sorry for yourself, Jack," Kaldar said. "It's all about Jack, all the time."

Inside him, the Wild gathered itself into a tight ball, all fur and teeth.

"Poor, poor Jack," Audrey said. Her voice was sweet, but her eyes mocked him. "Everyone's mean to you. What will you do? There is no room to run away to this time, and Rose won't help you."

How does she know about my sister?

The Wild snarled. They had all ganged up on him. Jack's heart hammered in his chest. His claws prickled the inside of his hands. He glanced at George. His brother stood there, his face calm, like he was a complete stranger.

"Selfish and stupid," Kaldar said. "That's you."

"Good for nothing," Gaston added.

The Wild screamed and scratched inside Jack, straining to break free. He wanted to grow teeth and claws and dash into the forest. No, he had to stand his ground. Changing in the Edge wasn't like changing in the Weird. It hurt, and it lasted half a minute. They would kill him before he was done.

The world distilled itself to painful clarity. He had to defend himself. He couldn't let them take him.

Why? They were friends - why would they do this? Why didn't George do anything?

"You're on your own," George said. "Don't ask me for help, crybaby."

Traitor. Jack looked into his brother's eyes. They were blue and calm, almost peaceful. George always helped him. Always. Even when everyone else turned away.

This was wrong. George would never turn on him.

It's a test, he suddenly realized. They were testing him to see if he would snap and give himself away. They were watching him carefully, trying to gauge what he would do.

Jack's instincts told him to bite back as hard as he could. But that was what they expected of him, then he'd be stuck in that clearing by himself, while George went out to spy and probably fight. George was good with his rapier but not that good.

Jack pushed the Wild back into its hole. It clawed him, refusing to go, and he had to force it, step by step. It hurt. His mouth tasted bitter. Finally, he shoved it deep inside, into its usual place. It must've taken only a couple of moments, but to him it felt like forever.

The colors lost some of their sharpness, the scents faded just a fraction. He stepped away from the edge of the cliff.

Jack took a deep breath and forced himself to smile. "That's okay. If I get in trouble, I'll just mop up my tears with George's hair."

It was a lame joke, but that was all he could manage.

Audrey was looking at him, and her eyes were kind again.

"Good man," Kaldar said. "There is hope for you yet."

Gaston walked over and punched his shoulder.

Jack breathed. He was terribly tired all of a sudden.

"Okay, now we'll need money," Audrey said. "And a lot of it. Preferably owned by some ass, so I won't feel bad stealing from him. Gaston, any candidates?"

Gaston raised his black eyebrows. "How do you feel about a slaver? Rumor says he doesn't believe in banks. He keeps all his money in his mansion in the Edge."

Kaldar raised his hand. "Sold!"

"Oh, really?" Audrey crossed her arms. "So I guess you'll be breaking into this mansion all on your own without my help."

"I could," Kaldar said. "But I would get caught."

"In that case, how about I decide if we're sold or not?"

Gaston waved his notebook. "Maybe the two of you should let me tell you about the guy first."

Jack heard them bicker, but the words barely sank in. His legs grew weak, as if all his muscles had turned to mush. He took a couple of steps back and half sat, half fell, on the grass. Exhaustion claimed him. He took rapid, shallow breaths.

George came over and sat next to him. "The Wild?"

Jack nodded. He had beat it back that time. But it was so hard, much harder than it had been before in the parking lot. He had won this time. There would be a next time, and he wasn't sure who would win then.