Free Shadowlands by Violette Malan Page B

High Prince had given him and walked through the arrivals concourse toward the closest exit doors. As he walked, Wolf caught the scent of the guardians of the place. One such guard he avoided simply by stepping into the nearest shadow, and used the time it took for the guard to pass on his round to fix his mental image of the place, lest he should he require it again.
    Unfortunately, as he neared the glass doors of the exit three men in uniform, holding cups from which came the hot, bitter smell of coffee, barred his way. One man was taking bites from a pastry that even from Wolf’s hiding place in the shadows smelled sickly sweet. Another had an apple in the pocket of his uniform jacket.
    “Nirmal should go home if he’s just going to sit in the locker room staring at the walls,” Pastry was saying.
    “Leave him alone,” Apple said. “He’s just got that High Park thing that’s going around.”
    “He can’t afford to miss another shift,” No Food added.
    Wolf waited. Finally Apple drifted away to the east and disappeared behind a wide marble staircase. Wolf glanced to his right. He would have to go that way, as it appeared the remaining two could go on talking about the illness of their comrade for hours.
    Swiftly, silently, Wolf darted through the shadows to a set of double doors that had been left ajar and into a food market that smelled of cleaning fluids not quite masking spoiled food. Somewhere beyond the market stalls he thought he could smell outside air.
    The exit doors were locked shut, but Wolf used his
gra’if
dagger to cut through the metal of the locks. The
gra’if
glowed slightly in the darkness, but Wolf had it sheathed before it could give him away.Stepping out, he was faced with a narrow stretch of roadway, another set of double glass doors on the other side. There were streetlights above him, and the sounds and smells of traffic overhead. That would be Front Street. The Prince’s home was in the building on the other side. Wolf eyed the parapet, an easy leap.
    He put his hand to his chest, touched through his shirt the key the High Prince had given him.
    “Go in through the front doors of the hotel,” she had said. “But use the east lobby elevators and go to the top floor. The apartment is in the southeast corner of the building, and has a silver knocker in the shape of a dragon on the door.”
    As if the thought of a Guidebeast triggered his senses, Wolf’s nostrils flared. Somewhere here, in this submerged laneway, there was a faint scent of Rider. He turned, intent on fixing this scent in his mind—and his attackers were on him almost before he knew they were there. Sound more than scent gave them away. Too many shadows, too many conflicting odors, had masked their approach. Two of the three grabbed him by the upper arms and were dragging him toward the darkest corner while the third was dodging in front, trying to reach Wolf’s feet.
    They weren’t trying to hurt him, he realized, just secure him, but while they were touching him, he could not Move without bringing them with him. Wolf planted his feet, shrugged off the dark form on his right, flinging out his arm. As that person was still airborne, Wolf spun, swinging the one holding his left arm into the man in front. The impact broke the man’s hold on Wolf’s arm, and he immediately Moved, first to the shadowy spot in the train concourse he had used earlier, then to a safe spot in the market area, behind the juice vendor.
    He could hear the people who had accosted him. They were still outside, the one he had thrown groaning. Apparently Wolf had broken some ribs. The High Prince had warned him that humans were more fragile than Riders, but evidently he had not paid sufficient attention. Instead of setting themselves to watch once more, the two relatively uninjured men helped the third away, and the laneway was once more deserted. Now alert, Wolf Moved back to where he had been attacked, immediately leaping onto the parapet, and