She was tailed by two of her flunkies, dressed with similar flamboyance, and they didn’t stop to get a drink. Heart racing, I stood up and followed them as they prowled through the market. Where was Val? She’d be the one tailing Newton—Exel and Tia would be somewhere nearby in the submarine. Would Mizzy be on sniper duty, then? Bob’s Cathedral was a tall building, so there weren’t many places nearby to give a proper vantage, and sniping would be tough with all these people. Maybe Mizzy would be stationed somewhere farther south, close to where the trap was supposed to take place.
I was intent on finding Val or Exel, so I saw when a man emerged from the crowd and hurled a piece of fruit at Newton. It soared through the air and made contact in a way—Newton’s powers engaged immediately, reflecting the energy. The fruit bounced back and exploded when it hit the ground. The Epic spun around, searching for the source of the attack.
I froze in place, sweating. Did I look suspicious? Newton pointed, and one of her flunkies—a tall, muscular woman wearing a jacket missing the sleeves—took off after the man who’d thrown the fruit. He was doing his best to disappear into the crowd.
Sparks! This wasn’t part of the plan; it was just a bystander making a snap decision. Suddenly another piece of fruit flew at Newton, coming from another direction, along with a cry of “Building Seventeen!” This one was deflected too, of course, and the crowd immediately began to make itself scarce. I had no choice but to join them, lest I be left standing alone when the roof cleared.
This was exactly the sort of thing the Reckoners hated. I could imagine the chatter over the mobiles now, Val explaining that some locals had gotten it into their heads to get retribution for the building Newton had burned down. As much as I appreciated some people of Babilar finally showing a spine, I couldn’t help but be annoyed by their timing.
Tia would want to abort, of course, but I doubted that Prof would let it happen over something as simple as this. I joined a bunch of people crowding into a nearby shop tent, the owner yelling for them not to lay their hands on anything. I pocketed a pair of walkie-talkies, feeling only slightly guilty about it. As I was stuffing them into my cloak, I heard an odd noise. Whispering? Like someone talking under their breath.
Something about it seemed familiar. Cautious, I looked around. Standing not three people from me, pressed in by the hiding crowd, was a woman in a nondescript glowing green cloak. I could just make out her face peeking out underneath her hood.
It was Mizzy.
43
YES, it was Mizzy, a pack slung over her shoulder, muttering quietly to herself—no doubt speaking to the other Reckoners. She didn’t seem to have noticed me.
Sparks! I’d been so focused on finding Val that I hadn’t thought they might finally let Mizzy take point.
A scream came from outside. It seemed that Newton’s goons had found one of the malcontents.
Mizzy danced from one foot to the other, anxious; she wouldn’t want to let Newton get away from her. Conversely, I’d found my target, and was perfectly happy letting Newton go bother someone else.
I needed to get Mizzy alone, only for a few minutes, then explain myself. How to do that without her immediately calling to Prof and the others? I had little doubt that Val would shoot me, no questions asked—she already had—and Prof would probably be in line right after her? if his powers really were starting to get to him. Mizzy, though … I might be able to convince Mizzy.
First I had to get the earpiece out of her ear. I wiggled through the tent, riding the shifting press of people as some in front peeked out to see what was happening. I managed to place myself right behind Mizzy.
Then, heart pounding, I took out the knife—leaving it sheathed, since I didn’t actually want to hurt her—and pressed it against Mizzy’s back. At the same moment, I put my hand over her mouth.
“Don’t move,” I whispered.
She went stiff. I reached my hand into her hood and grabbed the earpiece, then fiddled with it, flipping the off switch. Perfect. Now I just—
Mizzy twisted, grabbed my arm, and I’m not sure what happened next. Suddenly I was bursting out the back flaps of the tent, the world spinning. I hit the rooftop on my shoulder, the knife skidding from my hand.
Mizzy was on top of me a second later, arm raised to punch, her face framed by glowing green cloth. She saw me and immediately gasped. “Oh!” She patted me on the shoulder. “David! Are you all right?”
“I—”
“Wait!” she exclaimed, clamping her hand over her mouth. “I hate you!”
She raised her fist again and punched me right in the gut. And Calamity, she could punch. I growled, twisting—mostly in pain—and threw her off me. I managed to stumble to my feet and went for the knife, but Mizzy grabbed me under the arm and …
Well, everything flipped around again, and suddenly I was on my back, completely out of breath. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I was way bigger than she was. Wasn’t I supposed to win in a fight? True, I didn’t have much hand-to-hand training, and she seemed to have … well, more than “not much.”