Free Touching Fire (Touch Saga) by Airicka Phoenix Page A

need would I have to transport humans?”
    “Human traces were detected through the nexus,” the thing repeated with the same nearly robotic tone.
    There was a crunch of weight hitting cobblestone, a muffled grunt and then the rustle of moving leather and clipped footsteps.
    “You clearly have no idea who you’re talking to.” It was Archer. He must have leapt down from the bench. “This is an imperial coach and you are trespassing on restricted, unauthorized grounds.”
    “Human traces—” I was beginning to think that was the only thing they knew how to say.
    “I was topside,” Ashton broke in. “It’s possible I could have picked the trace up by accident.”
    “ We must be thorough.” I was wrong. Apparently it wasn’t the only thing it could say.
    “Absolutely not,” Ashton barked.
    “We must be thorough.”
    I felt Isaiah stiffen beside me. His fingers closed around my wrist and I was tugged before I could hear the rest of the argument. I looked at him and the urgency on his face. He tugged again and I was dragged off the bench towards the other door. He put a finger to his lips and I wanted to roll my eyes. Like seriously? Did he think I was going to break out in a cabaret song and dance?
    With daft fingers, he flipped the little gold lever and pried open the door. He slipped out quietly, glanced left then right before motioning me down. We shut the door behind us and glanced at our surroundings.
    We were on a narrow strip of what could have been mistaken for a highway if I hadn’t seen highways all my life. This wasn’t one. It was too unused. The cobblestone trail wound its way through the murky darkness like a pale snake cutting across the ground. Miles of forestry stood guard on either side, hulking black figures rustling in the breeze. The air was muggy and thick with the scent of pine, wet dirt and grease.
    I looked at Isaiah. “What now?” I mouthed.
    He glanced in the direction of the woods and I knew what he was thinking. We could make a run for it. We could even possibly make it without getting seen. But not when the flaming horses were lighting up the area like the fourth of July. The safest place was the small patch of shadow cast at the back of the carriage were we stood.
    We heard the distinct clang of metal feet, the grind of gears as those guard things moved closer. We were running out of time.
    Isaiah grabbed my hand and tugged me down until we were kneeling. He nudged me under the carriage. Why not, I thought. It wasn’t like my dress could get any more wrecked than it already was.
    I took hold of the copper pipe running along the base, just beneath the foothold and hefted myself under, monkey-style. Stones cut my thighs and arms, but I ignored it, paying much more attention to not getting seen. Isaiah slipped in after me, the gun grasped tightly in his hand. He slipped that arm over me, aiming it at the three pairs of feet standing mere inches from my face. I edged backward and came up against Isaiah.
    The feet closest to me were clad in scuffed boots and I recognized them as Archer’s. Next to him were Ashton’s glossy loafers. Across from them was a pair of shiny, black metal shoes attached to metal legs in the same glossy black. But what caught my attention was the crimson glow that seemed to radiate from beneath the metal. It moved and flickered like a firefly beneath a piece of paper, or the reflection water made on the walls and ceilings of a swimming arena. It seemed to ripple.
    “ You have no authority here,” Archer was saying when I focused again.
    “Human traces were detected through the nexus,” the thing announced once again.
    They were never going away, I realized with growing annoyance. The ground was cold and wet and it was soaking into my dress. I was covered in blood, my foot hurt, I had the mother of all headaches drumming between my ears and I was hungry. I was starving, which was driving all the other pains. Everything hurt and the thrum was making me