I grit my teeth. ‘You’re the one who told me that I was needed.’
Her eyes glint in the weak light. ‘Have you attained control?’
‘Some.’
‘Oh, Zoe from the quiet lands. Will it be enough?’
It had better be. ‘Yes,’ I say firmly.
Lilith regards me seriously for a moment, then reaches out with one long finger. She touches my arm, drawing it down across my skin. ‘I can feel it,’ she whispers. ‘I can feel the power.’ She pulls back. ‘I will do this.’
I swallow. ‘Thank you. It won’t be until later. Twelve hours or so from now.’
Lilith frowns. ‘Hours?’
It occurs to me that she has no concept of time. I don’t suppose it’s necessary here. ‘Just stay around this spot until I give the signal.’
Her head sways. ‘I can do this,’ she says dreamily.
I smile grimly. Phase one complete.
***
I’m almost at the edge of the forest and about to head into town again when I hear a cough. I freeze, worried that it might be Kevin back for another round of trap-setting. Instead, however, it’s the cowboy I saw on my very first night here, the one who’s friends with Dante. If Dante has any friends, that is.
‘Hi,’ I say warily.
He gives me an easy grin and tips his hat in my direction. ‘Hello there.’
‘You’re Rob, right?’ I say, suddenly remembering his name.
‘And you’re Zoe.’ He eyes sweep over me. ‘I can see why he likes you.’
I stiffen slightly. ‘I’m a dreamweaver. It’s pretty clear why.’
His grin widens. ‘If you say so.’
‘Is the man in question around?’ I ask casually.
Rob shakes his head. ‘It’s a bit early for him. Though I’d say that he’s certainly made himself a lot more visible since you showed up.’
I shrug. Dante’s absence will make life less complicated. ‘Well,’ I say airily, ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Are you up to something, Dreamweaver?’
It’s on the tip of my tongue to blurt out everything. After all, he told Dante to go up against the Mayor. But I don’t know if I can trust him. To be perfectly honest, I’m getting damned irritated at the lack of people I can trust around here.
Rob doffs his hat. ‘I wouldn’t want to keep a lady back from important business.’
I scan his face, wondering whether he has any inkling what I’m up to. He smiles at me innocently, so I grunt farewell. I have bigger fish to fry.
My next movements are the most dangerous. I can’t afford to get caught – or seen – by any of the Mayor’s people at this point, whether they’re his goons or the people who naively believe that he’s the best thing since sliced bread. Therefore, when I emerge into the town, I don’t even wait for my eyes to adjust to the sunlight before I dash to my left and behind the nearest building. I sidle round it, blinking, and peer into the street. There are still too many passers-by. Pulling my head in, I try to think. What would Ninja Zoe do?
Ten seconds later, I’m shimmying up the drainpipe. When I reach the roof, I press myself flat against the thatch. It’s bloody itchy but I ignore the discomfort and peek over the edge, sighing with relief that no one is glancing up in my direction. I duck my head down. There are enough buildings between here and the castle; I can do this.
It’s slow going but I slide from roof to roof, ensuring that I stick to the houses on the outskirts of the town so there’s less chance of someone looking up and spotting me. The only tricky part is when I’m forced to leap from one roof to the next because of an unusually large gap and I almost lose my footing. I’m able to dig my fingernails into the thatch to avoid falling to the ground. All the same, by the time I get back to the cottage where the mares were imprisoned, I’m panting. When I get out of this – if I get out of this – I’m going to join a bloody gym.
There’s no sign of a guard in front. I’m relieved; that means the Mayor hasn’t had time to trap any new mares. I move towards the back and work my toes into the roof. When I have enough grip, I swing down so I’m hanging headfirst down the wall. My fingers scrabble around until I find the gap where I hid Bron’s knife. I have to prise out the stone so I can free it from this side, and I cut myself as I grip the blade. I slide it into my back pocket, pull myself back upright and suck the drops of blood from my fingers; then I go back to the roof in front of the castle forecourt.
There are still too many people around although, as Esme said, no one seems interested in going inside the castle. Few Travellers even bother looking at it. I suppose there’s something creepy about all those unconscious bodies lying inside. If nothing else, however, it’ll make it easier for me to get inside.