under our balcony.
“It’s almost like he’s expecting trouble,” I mused.
“The major’s right, though,” said Terry. “You can never be too careful, especially since you’re openly showing your powers now.”
“Wood-claw will find us first,” I said confidently.
Child psionics gave off a unique signature that any adept finder would be able to identify, and how many kid-healers were traveling around with a flight-capable telekinetic these days? I was certain that the Wood-claw finders would instantly know who it was. The only real question was how soon the cautious Mrs. Harding would be willing to come and collect us.
As Ed Regis got out of our car, a white van quietly pulled into the hotel’s parking lot from the rear entrance. We saw Ed Regis tense up slightly as he watched the van approach him, but then he calmly strolled over to its driver-side window. Ed Regis was well trained in blocking mind control, but we couldn’t see the driver from here so I probably wasn’t the only one holding my breath.
Ed Regis pointed up at us, and the driver stepped out. It was too dark to see him very clearly, but we recognized him. It was Scott, our eldest refugee soldier from Walnut Lane.
“Scott!” I called down. “Hey, Scott!”
“Adrian! Terry!” Scott shouted up to us. “Alia? Is that you?”
Alia, never one to raise her voice if she could help it, replied telepathically.
Ed Regis whispered something to Scott, who nodded and got back into the van. Scott parked next to our sedan, and then he and two others stepped out. One, I recognized as his girlfriend, Rachael. The other was a stocky, middle-aged man who I didn’t know by name, but I remembered as one of Mrs. Harding’s Knights.
Ed Regis led them around to the hotel’s entrance, and a minute later we were all gathered together in Ed Regis’s room.
“It’s so good to see you guys again,” I said, shaking Scott and Rachael’s hands.
The Knight didn’t greet us, keeping a mild distance and silently watching us with a cautious frown. I noticed that he was armed with a pistol holstered under his long jacket. Though we were all standing inside Rachael’s psionic hiding bubble now, at this distance, I would have sensed the Knight’s destroyer powers if he had any. But this man wasn’t a destroyer. Perhaps he was a controller or had some other power, or maybe he was entirely non-psionic.
“How did you find us so quickly?” James asked Scott.
I was wondering the same thing. We had all assumed that we would be here at least one night.
“I’ve been tracking you guys for a week,” replied Scott. “Ever since you got close to us and then disappeared.”
“You’ve been tracking us?” I asked. “You personally?”
“That’s right,” said Scott, grinning. “I came into my power just after we arrived at the mountain camp. And I’m actually pretty good with it already. I can do long-range and pinpointing.”
“That’s amazing,” James said with a touch of envy in his voice.
“It wasn’t easy following you, though,” continued Scott. “You guys went hundreds of miles out, and I’m guessing you were draining yourselves too, weren’t you?”
I nodded.
“I kept losing you when you were moving, but I could still spot you during the nights.”
“So much for caution,” I said wryly.
“Where’s Merlin?” asked Scott.
“Dead,” I told him quietly. “He didn’t make it to the Historian.”
We never really found out what happened to Merlin, so for all we knew, he could still be alive, but the chances were next to nil.
“And the Wolves?” asked Scott, glancing at Ed Regis.
“The Wolves, too,” I said. “It’s a long story.”
“I’m sorry,” said Scott.
Ed Regis just nodded.
“We had a feeling about Merlin,” said Rachael, “since your powers weren’t hidden.”
We observed a moment of uncomfortable silence. I hated being the bearer of bad news. Merlin had been Scott’s psionic blocking instructor, and
Learning to Kill: Stories