The Unnaturalists (Tiffany Trent) by Tiffany Trent

Author:Tiffany Trent
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance, Fantasy, Young Adult, Historical, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9781442422070
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2012-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Syrus had fallen asleep waiting, but when the door clicked he was wide awake. The fire had burned into embers and the book Syrus had been idling through for days—maps of Old London—had slid to the floor.

Bayne slipped into the room, holding a candle rather than the everlantern most Cityfolk would have used. “Come,” he whispered.

Syrus followed past the hulking bed and a massive wardrobe that threatened to trip him in the dark.

“They’ve nevered the door against my leaving, but not against a skilled lockpick.” Bayne’s smile was ghoulish in the flickering candlelight. He handed Syrus the tools of his trade.

The boy rolled his eyes and bent to the task, hoping it wouldn’t be like the Harpy’s cage. His wrists still smarted just thinking of those little iron hands grasping them.

As the tumblers turned, there was a spark and a fizz. One jolt whizzed into Syrus’s thumb. He shook his hand, cursing.

Bayne watched him expectantly. “Once the lock is sprung, I can disable the rest.” Syrus sighed and turned back to the work.

At last, the door opened. Bayne whispered something and Syrus saw a faint web stretched between the doorposts dissolve into glimmering nothingness.

The house was vast and echoing; Syrus felt swallowed by it. They crept through everlit halls hung with dour portraits and mounts of things both Elemental and not. Down a curving, creaking staircase, back along another hall, through the silent kitchen with its spit-boy snoring by the hearth, and to yet another door Syrus was forced to pick open. Then along a cobbled corridor, through a garden and a courtyard to an iron side gate that sizzled with warding magic.

“A moment,” Bayne said. He stretched his palms toward the gate. Then he paused, looking over at Syrus. “Can you run if required?” he asked, glancing down at Syrus’s foot.

Syrus nodded, grinning.

The next thing he knew, Bayne seized him by the sleeve and pulled him. One moment, they were on one side of the fence, the next they were on the other, running madly through the deserted Uptown street while a banshee alarm wailed behind them. The Empress’s Tower reared so very close on its hill that Syrus thought he could almost see faces looking out at him from the windows. The Imperial Refinery coughed green smoke just beyond it.

“Couldn’t avoid that one, I’m afraid!” Bayne shouted. He grabbed the boy’s sleeve again and yanked him through space and darkness and wailing alarms to stand before the maw of a cave on the River Vaunting.

Syrus put his hands to his head to stop everything from spinning. “Think you could warn me first?” he gasped.

Bayne chuckled. “That was a bit rough. The danger and suddenness and all that. Didn’t have much time to prepare.”

“Why couldn’t we have just done that from your room to here like we did the other night?” Syrus asked. His temples throbbed.

“A little more difficult getting out than getting in. And the summoning stones . . . well . . . their magic is older and more refined than what little we’ve managed to learn in these dark days.

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