Free Chronicles of the Invaders 1: Conquest by John Connolly, Jennifer Ridyard

her finger to her lips, and then they all heard it: the whine of an interceptor followed by the rhythmic quickstep of soldiers’ boots approaching, rattling like applause on the cobbles as they passed the filthy alley. The youngsters stayed still, barely breathing until the stomping faded away.
    “You must have amazing hearing,” the boy said when all was silent once more, but Ani just shrugged and half smiled.
    “Lead on,” she said.
    Frowning slightly, the human looked from one Illyri to the other, his blue eyes narrowing, then seemed to make a decision. He went to the entrance to the alley, peering around the corner before he beckoned for them to follow.
    They moved more cautiously now, stopping to listen every few steps, and still dodging and weaving, disappearing ever deeper into the warren of streets behind the Royal Mile.
    “Where are we going?” asked Syl quietly as they paused at another bend, looking down a laneway she’d never seen before, the tall, regal buildings more humble back here, lopsided and blackened by decades of pollution. Windows were broken, some even boarded up, and she saw the painted graffiti of the Resistance on a peeling doorway. This was not a place she should be, where any Illyri should be. Her heart was like a bag of stones clattering terrified in her chest.
    “Um, away?” said the older boy next to her ear.
    “Where to, though?”
    His breath was warm on her cheek and she could smell him, soapy and musky. She stepped back a little, feeling flustered.
    “I hadn’t thought of anywhere in particular. Just away from the soldiers and Securitats. They’ll be rounding people up like sheep for the slaughter.”
    “Oh. Right.”
    They started walking again, sticking close to the buildings, but the street was deserted.
    “Why? Where do you need to be?” he said.
    “The castle,” she replied automatically before she could stop herself.
    He turned to face her now, his eyes wide and shocked.
    “The castle? Why would you want to go there ?”
    Syl felt Ani poke her hard in her back.
    “Um, a job interview,” Syl spluttered. “We had job interviews.”
    “Doing what exactly?”
    “Scrubbing floors. She’s great at scrubbing floors,” said Ani from behind her.
    “I am. Fabulous,” said Syl. “And she cleans toilets.”
    The older boy gave a low chuckle, and the younger one snorted.
    “Will you keep your sunglasses on even when you’re cleaning the jacks?” he said to Ani.
    “Of course,” snapped Ani. “Safety gear. I never take them off.”
    “You really are the strangest pair,” the older boy said, but he seemed more relaxed now. “I wouldn’t recommend going near the castle for a while, though, not until they’ve calmed down. You could always just hang around here: it’s quiet, and the Illyri don’t come this way very much.”
    He waved his hand absently at a sheet of corrugated iron that hung from a doorway. ILLyri is a disease was scrawled across it in red spray paint.
    You reckon? thought Syl to herself, and she gave an inadvertent shudder. The adrenaline was seeping out of her now, and her legs suddenly felt wobbly and weak. She thought she might be sick. She remembered the explosions, the twin bombs, how close they’d been to walking straight into the second one, how these boys had stopped them, saved them, run with them until they were safe from the guards. But how had they known there’d be a second bomb? Had it been their doing? Were they killers, Resistance killers?
    “Hey,” the older human was saying, looking at her kindly, “are you okay? Seriously?”
    His eyes crinkled at the corners. He had that pillow-soft bottom lip, and he didn’t look like a murderer, but what did a murderer look like anyway? Abruptly it all became too much. With a nauseous shiver, Syl tried to sit down where she was, but he leapt forward and steadied her elbow.
    “Not here,” he said. “You’re in shock. Let’s get you somewhere safe. There’s a place