Adamant Read Free

knees. I leaped back quickly. Shadows flowed from the hole in the back of its neck, thick as blood. It went still. Dead.
    Talk about an obvious weakness. Replacing the dagger in its sheath, I turned my back and went through the door, back into the foggy London alleyway. The static buzz of magic faded as I stepped back onto Earth. With the low-hanging clouds and tall buildings, it felt more enclosed than the Passages, and the smell of exhaust fumes never really went away. The woman and kids waited for me, looking uncertainly around.
    “Sorry,” I said. “We were followed. The Passages are dangerous, as I’m sure my friend Delta told you.”
    The woman bowed her head. She understood she’d never be able to go home. The kids wouldn’t even remember it in a few years. I hoped so, anyway. My heart twisted all the same.
    “Okay,” I said, slipping a hand into my coat pocket. “You need to wear these all the time,” I said, handing the woman a small packet. “They’re contact lenses,” I explained. “Your eyes will attract attention here. People on Earth don’t have eyes that colour. Take your pick—blue, green, brown, grey. But stick with one colour.” I glanced down at the little boy. His irises were pale grey, almost white, like mine. “They aren’t mageblood?” I asked.
    “I’m half mageblood,” the woman whispered, face clouded with sadness. My heart twisted again. Oh, boy. Half magebloods had a death sentence on them from birth in Enzar. She was lucky. Really lucky.
    I nodded. “If the kids start developing the pigment, get them more of these lenses. Ask Nell. She runs the shelter. It’s this way,” I added, pointing towards the street at the alleyway’s end. Nell had rented the empty three-floor apartment building for convenience, as it was a short walk away from the alley. No one saw us, but I kept an eye out while I unlocked the door and led the family inside. I didn’t need to tell them to keep quiet.
    Nell was still up, waiting in the dark hallway. She looked much younger than her real age, even with her dark brown hair pulled into a bun. Her oval-shaped face hadn’t a single wrinkle, though a jagged scar marked her right cheek. A souvenir from Enzar, she’d told me. More scars marked her strong, tanned arms. Her light blue eyes met mine as she nodded. Her natural eye colour was pale purple and could pass as blue, but she wore the lenses anyway. Even her hair was dyed; most Enzarians were fair. Another reason I’d dyed mine dark red.
    “Welcome,” she said to the woman, extending a hand. “I am Nell Fletcher.”
    In her typically quiet-but-authoritative manner, she led the family upstairs, leaving me in the dark hallway. I pushed open the door to the kitchen and helped myself to a glass of water.
    We lived on the ground floor. Officially, the upper floors were out of use, and no one ever came to check, since we owned the building. No nosy landlords asking questions. Nell had set up this place herself, after she’d come to Earth with me. When I was less than a year old. Our odd family had later added Jeth and Alber, my brothers. None of us were related by blood, but we were as close as real siblings.
    Nell came back into the kitchen, having helped the family settle upstairs. We had only a limited number of rooms, but this place was more of a transition point. We’d get the refugees new identities, help them adjust to living on Earth as best we could. We had contacts with other shelters throughout London. All illegal, like ours. Nell would never forgive the Alliance for adopting a noninterference policy twenty years ago that meant there was no legal way to help anyone from the worlds on the second level of the Passages.
    Now, she narrowed her eyes at me. “Your coat’s singed,” she said.
    I glanced down. She was right, of course, the edge of my black trench coat was smoking slightly. “A chalder vox,” I said. “I got it, though.”
    Nell had nailed the disciplinary stare. “Ada.