Waywalkers: Number 1 in Series Read Online Free PDF Page A

blown out. A tape surrounding the skeletal building declared, ‘Danger – Unexploded Bomb’.

    ‘They’re in the station,’ whispered Sam.

    ‘They don’t know what you are. They’re on your territory now.’

    He smiled wryly. ‘You expect me to be your knight errant?’

    She put a hand up to her hair, fastened in a tight bun, and pulled from it a narrow stick. The bun stayed in place, supported by other means, but looking at the stick the word that came to Sam’s mind was: needle. Its end was gleaming and seemed very sharp. The thing was made out of a dark, dark metal, and he had a feeling it would be poisoned.

    ‘Will you?’ asked Freya softly.

    He made a flicking movement with his right hand, and there was a slim, silver dagger in it. Another gesture and it was gone. ‘Why should I help you?’ he asked, eyes not leaving her face.

    ‘Because I’m not one of those who’s harmed you. Because you know that Firedancers are only used by the bad ones among us. Because it’s cowardice, sending Firedancers against a prime. Because no one from Family has spoken to you for far too long.’

    Sam considered this. Of course, she could be trying very subtly to influence him with her unique power. But it was rare to be greeted with such open honesty, especially by anyone from his extensive family. For too long he’d not been spoken to in such a reasonable, friendly way by one of his own. He said, ‘Fair enough. Give me five minutes to get into the station.’

    She nodded, breathless with anticipation. Though her face was taut and she held the needle tightly, poised to strike, her eyes were sick at what must be done. Sam, on the other hand, was already moving with cat-like determination. He had no qualms about killing Firedancers.
     
    The train was passing over a river. Sam closed his eyes as the hills of now were lost in a flare of sunlight. The sky was pink, with brilliant shadows cast across the belly of the clouds. Back in that bombed-out station, he’d had no need to help Freya. But what made her special was that she’d not cared what the others had said. She’d taken him at face value, and listened to what he had to say. He’d been honoured to risk his life tor her. That was Freya’s magic, her greatest weapon. And she’d never realised how recklessly she wielded it.
     
    The station had been deserted. Glass was sprayed across the platform and the fire crews hadn’t even begun a clear-up. Twisted metal hung down on all sides, like blackened and burnt lianas in a chaotic jungle. Not a soul moved.

    Through a feat of climbing and guesswork Sam had found his way to what remained of a gantry overlooking the station. He heaved himself through a shattered window, landing with the faintest clang on the gantry’s metal platform below. It creaked ominously, and somewhere there was the thunk, thunk of bricks falling. But it held.

    Edging along, dagger ready in his hand, he peered down into the main concourse, straining to find his adversaries. He pressed his back against the nearest wall and willed himself to hear them. Below, on a floor strewn with fallen tiles, a crater held an unexploded bomb counting the seconds until destiny.

    Sam heard it. The faint thump of a boot on the gantry platform. Then he felt it, the faint tensing of metal beneath him as a foot was raised, fell, was raised again. Heading towards him. Five yards. Three. Two. In the shadows someone – or thing – had stopped less than a yard away, breathing fast.

    Overhead, something else moved. Too late Sam cursed himself for a fool – Firedancers always attacked in twos. A lithe shape, masked in executioner’s red, swung from the torn rafters above and struck, his red feet impacting sharply with Sam’s chest and knocking him back. At the same moment his comrade whirled round the corner, gloved hands bright with fire. The flame sprang up around Sam and sought to burn him. As the second Firedancer landed neatly on the platform, which