Tell the Wind and Fire(19)

“You’re not helping yourself.”

“No,” Carwyn murmured, “I’m amusing myself.”

“You’re the only doppelganger that they have ever seen in person,” I said as we left the train, to the visible relief of its remaining passengers. “Spreading fear and distrust is only going to contribute to the false idea of doppelgangers that they’ve built up in their heads.”

“Please inform me on the subject of doppelgangers,” Carwyn said humbly. “They sound like such interesting yet widely misunderstood creatures. Is it true that they only drink human blood?”

“I hope not,” I said. “This place doesn’t serve it.”

The Star Bright was already in view, with its white fa?ade and gleaming, tilted windows, the star on the black sign a burst of Light magic that looked almost like a real star. I’d had brunch there with Ethan a couple of weeks ago, and it was a warm, comfortable place to eat and talk. I smiled at the woman with the short black tie and moved toward an empty table.

“I’m terribly sorry,” said the woman, stepping in front of me. “But these tables are reserved.”

“What, all of them?”

The woman nodded, a jerky motion that made her earrings dance, jeweled little fish leaping into shimmering blue circles.

“All right,” I said slowly. “Can we wait? How long will it take?”

“Could be hours,” she said, twisting her hands together.

I glanced over my shoulder at Carwyn, a silent shadow at my back. He made no sound or movement, as if he really was a shadow.

“It’s not my decision,” the woman said, her voice very fast and very low. “It’s just the policy of the management. They have to think of the other customers.”

“Being thoughtful is so important,” I snapped. “Come on, we’ll go someplace else.”

I stormed out into the dark street, banging the door shut behind me, and walked on with Carwyn following in my wake. We walked eight blocks, until we reached a Thai place I knew, where the bathrooms had shimmering curtains of magic light instead of walls. Tourists flocked there to use those bathrooms. I thought the whole thing was a little creepy, but the food was good, and outside the bathrooms the lights were low.

They must have seen us coming, because the man waiting at the door had the air of a manager and shining rings on every finger. Rings took money as well as magical talent.

“Miss, please, you can’t come in here,” he said. “This isn’t that kind of establishment.”

“The kind of establishment where people eat food and then pay for it?” I asked. “Because I’ve done that here before, and that’s all we want to do now.”

A woman eating nearby said, “Light’s sake, I don’t mind if the doppelganger wants to stay and give us a show!”

Her voice had a Midwest twang and she was looking at Carwyn with undisguised fascination, as if he were a combination of a dirty picture and something she might see at the zoo.

“You’re welcome here, honey,” she said, peering up at his shrouded face.

“Thanks, honey,” said Carwyn, mimicking her accent. She jumped.

“Miss.” The man touched his forehead with one hand and gestured to the door with the other, sparks cast by the stones trailing the motion.

I clenched my own hands, rings pressing hard against my palms, and fought back the urge to do what I had done at the train station for Ethan: shout who I was and demand better treatment. But I couldn’t, of course. I couldn’t link my name with a doppelganger’s any more than it already was. Word would spread. That would be bad for Ethan.

Even going out onto the streets with Carwyn was a risk I should not have taken. I could have been recognized, and that would have reflected on the whole Stryker family. Ethan had already been accused of a crime. I was afraid for Ethan, fear cold as the knowledge that I was letting down the boy who had saved Ethan in the first place.

“Fine,” I said, and whirled out the door.

I had taken a few steps down the street when Carwyn’s voice sounded behind me.

“You were right,” he said. “Once I stop upsetting people with my bad behavior, the world is all strawberries and sunshine. Or do I mean puppies and cream?”

“I’m sorry, all right,” I told him angrily, as if the world’s and my own cowardice were his fault.

“Sorry about what?” Carwyn asked. He drew level with me rather than being the shadow at my back. “Lucie, come on. It’s not like anything’s different in the Dark. The revolution you ignited hasn’t changed things that much, not yet.”

“The revolution I ignited?”

“The child who spoke out against the cages?” Carwyn asked. “They chant your name down in the Dark. The sans-merci paint it in blood on the streets. There are whispers that say the Light city kidnapped you and the Light Council is holding you prisoner, that it is the sans-merci’s mission to free you. You’re their princess in a tower. You’re their excuse for the tower to be torn down.”

I knew a little about the unrest in the Dark city. I knew about the riots, the fires, and the rumored assassinations, but there was always unrest in the Dark city. I knew all I wanted to. The chaos on the dark streets was not my fault just because they were calling my name these days.