The Collectors by Jacqueline West

Author:Jacqueline West
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-09-17T16:00:00+00:00

17

Razor

THE blade stopped just inches from Van’s face.

It was attached to a long, thick pole, and that pole was clenched in the hands of the most frightening person Van had ever seen.

The man was so tall that even though Van stood two steps above him, his head barely reached the man’s chest. The man’s hair was dark and long and tied back with a leather cord. He was dressed in a long black leather coat. Another metal hook on a pole glinted in the straps that crossed his chest and wrapped over his back. Behind the man stood other dark-coated people, some holding blades, some holding flaming glass lanterns.

By the uneven light of the lanterns, Van could see that something like a huge silver fishing net was wrapped around the big man’s shoulders. And his face . . . Frost bloomed in the pit of Van’s stomach. The man’s eyes were so dark, they were practically black. One small scar twisted the corner of his mouth, and another, much bigger scar, like a slash cut in a loaf of bread, curved down from his lower eyelid all the way to his jaw.

Van let out a shriek.

He staggered backward—straight into Pebble.

“Razor!” Pebble exclaimed. She dragged Van behind her body, out of range of the glittering blades. “I’m so sorry. He got away from me.” She shot Van a look that was both desperate and commanding. “Van, go up to the landing and wait for me.”

Maybe it was Pebble’s tone, or maybe it was the blades, or maybe it was the man’s scarred, shadowy face, but Van didn’t even pause. He scrambled up to the landing as fast as his legs would carry him.

From below came the murky sound of voices. Van could hear Pebble speaking, and someone else replying, but he couldn’t decipher a single word.

“Who was that?” he whispered to Barnavelt, who was still clinging tightly to his shoulder.

“That was Pebble.” Barnavelt blinked at him. “Haven’t you two met?”

“No, that man. The huge one with the hooks and the nets.”

“Oh.” The squirrel blinked again. “That’s Razor. He’s master of the Hold.”

Van’s frosty stomach turned to a solid lump of ice. “That guy—that guy with all those weapons—is in charge of the trapped Wish Eaters?”

The squirrel flicked his tail. “Right. I mean—left. I mean—what’s a Wish Eater?”

A shape came jogging back up the stairs toward them. A second later, Pebble grabbed Van by the sleeve. Her big, bright smile had vanished so completely that Van could barely remember what it looked like.

“What was that?” she hissed into his ear. “What were you doing?”

“I just . . . I guess I made a wrong turn,” Van said lamely.

“You are so lucky I was there,” she growled. “Come on.” She headed up the steps, keeping a tight grip on Van’s sleeve.

Van glanced into the darkness over his shoulder. Razor and the flickering lantern light had disappeared. Apparently getting down to the Hold wouldn’t be easy. And maybe, considering those silver blades, he had just gotten awfully lucky.

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