Steelheart (The Reckoners #1)(23)

“Cool,” Cody said. I wondered if my explanation passed his test or not. “It doesn’t look like Enforcement has made it here yet.

Maybe they couldn’t match you from the description.”

I nodded slowly, though beside me Megan was looking around, her eyes narrowed.

“What?” I asked.

“It looks too easy. I don’t trust things that look too easy.”

I scanned the far walls. There were a few empty trash bins and some motorbikes chained up beside a stairwell. Some chunks of metal had been etched by enterprising street artists. They weren’t supposed to do that, but the people encouraged them, quietly. It was one of the only forms of rebellion the common people ever engaged in.“Well, we can wait here staring until they do come,” Cody said, rubbing his face with a leathery nger, “or we can just go. Let’s be on with it.” He stood up.

One of the large trash bins shimmered.

“Wait!” I said, grabbing Cody and pulling him down, my heart leaping.

“What?” he said, anxious, unslinging his rifle. It was of a very ne make, old but well

maintained, with a large scope and a state-of-the-art suppressor on the front. I’d never been able to get my hands on one of those. The cheaper ones worked poorly, and I found it too hard to aim with them.

“There,” I said, pointing at the trash bin. “Watch it.”

He frowned but did what I asked.

My mind raced, sorting through fragments of remembered research.





I


needed

my

notes.

Shimmering

…

illusionist

Epic … who was that?

Refractionary, I thought, seizing on a name. A class C il usionist with personal invisibility capabilities.

“What am I watching for?” Cody asked. “Did you get spooked by a cat or something—” He cut o as the bin shimmered again. Cody frowned, then crouched down farther. “What is that?”

“An Epic,” Megan said, her eyes narrowing. “Some of the lesser Epics with illusion powers have trouble maintaining an exact illusion.”

“Her name is Refractionary,” I said softly. “She’s pretty skilled, capable of creating complex visual manifestations. But she’s not terribly powerful, and her illusions always have tells to them. Usually they shimmer as if light is reflecting off them.”

Cody aimed his ri e, sighting on the trash bin. “So you’re saying that bin isn’t really there. It’s hiding something else. Enforcement officers, probably?”

“I’d guess so,” I said.

“Can she be harmed by bullets, lad?” Cody asked.

“Yes, she’s not a High Epic. But Cody, she might not be in there.”

“You just said—”

“She’s a class C illusionist,” I explained. “But her secondary power is class B personal invisibility.

Illusions

and

invisibility often go hand in hand.

Anyway, she can make herself invisible, but not anything else— others, she has to create an illusion around. I’d be certain she’s hiding an Enforcement squad in that fake trash bin illusion, but if she’s smart —and she is—she’ll be somewhere else.”

I felt an itch in the small of my back. I hated illusionist Epics. You never knew where they’d be. Even the weakest of them—class D or E, by my own notation system—could make an illusion big enough for themselves to hide in. If they had personal invisibility, it was even worse.

“There,” Megan whispered, pointing toward a large piece of playground equipment—a kind of wooden fort for climbing. “See those boxes on the top of that playground tower? They just shimmered. Someone’s hiding in them.”

“That’s only big enough for one person,” I whispered. “From that position, whoever is there could see right into my apartment through the door. Sniper?”

“Most likely,” Megan said.

“Refractionary is close, then,” I said. “She’ll need to be able to see both that playground equipment and the fake garbage bins to keep the illusions going. The range on her powers isn’t great.”

“How do we draw her out?”

Megan asked.

“She likes to be involved, from what I remember,” I said. “If we can get the Enforcement soldiers to move, she’ll stay close to them, in case she needs to give orders or make illusions to support them.”

“Sparks!” Cody whispered. “How do you know all of this, lad?”

“Weren’t you listening?” Megan asked softly. “This is what he does.

It’s what he has built his life around. He studies them.”

Cody stroked his chin. He looked as if he’d assumed everything I said before was bravado. “You know her weakness?”

“It’s in my notes,” I said. “I’m trying to remember. Uh … well, illusionists usually can’t see if they turn

themselves

completely

invisible. They need light to strike their irises. So you can watch for the eyes. But a really skilled illusionist can make their eyes match the color of their surroundings. But that’s not really her weakness, more a limitation of illusions themselves.”