Trickster s Girl - By Hilari Bell Page 0,83

on his seat, though he did put in a stroke now and then to correct their course.

Kelsa kept working till her paddle hit the bottom, then she shoved the canoe forward till she heard mud rasp under its hull. The shallow water was almost warm as it splashed around her ankles. She turned to the leafy brush around the shore and spoke with all her heart, "Thank you."

Raven, climbing out at the front without his usual grace, snorted. "The magic is gone now. They're only frogs."

"Even so."

If he could make snide comments, he could walk on his own. Kelsa waded past him and went up to the biggest, fastest of the gang's bikes.

"We can't outrun anyone on that wimpy ATV. How much time do I have before the bikers swim ashore?"

Raven looked back at the lake. "Several minutes, at least. And they're headed for the nearest land, which is a ways from here. Why?"

"Because I'd like ten minutes," said Kelsa. "But if I've got less, that'll have to do."

She was already kneeling, reaching up under the compartment cover, groping for the wire that ran from the ignition keypad.

"My dad taught me how to jump-start a bike, and made me practice it at the beginning of every summer before we took our first trip. He said that sometimes keypads fail, and I needed to know what to do. I can charge the bike with solar sheets, change a bad battery, and replace a tire too."

"You're stealing that bike!" Raven's face lit with delight. "Can I help? I don't know these machines, but sometimes a strong will to open something can make other things happen. I don't have much energy left, but opening takes only a wisp of power."

Hand on the wire, Kelsa hesitated. If he could start it without her having to break things, that would be a much better solution.

"Go ahead."

Raven laid his hands on the engine cover and closed his eyes. The hard shell of the rear storage compartment popped open.

"Darn it," he muttered.

"That's OK." Kelsa gripped the wire and yanked it loose. Some of the fine strands broke, remaining on the welded connection points, but there was enough for her to work with. She unstrapped the battery cover. "See if there's anything in there that can puncture a tire. A screwdriver or something. And make sure it doesn't lock again when you close it."

Raven dug into the storage compartment and pulled out a knife with a seven-inch blade. "Will this do? Why do you want to puncture tires? Don't we need them?"

"Not our tires. Theirs!" Kelsa gestured to the other bikes. "Just stab every tire, hard. In the side, not the tread. The side is thinner."

She was afraid the tires might explode when punctured, but only soft pops and the hiss of escaping air followed Raven's progress through the row of parked bikes.

By the time he finished, she had uncovered the battery terminals. Kelsa split the wire far enough to stretch between the poles, and applied one wire to the positive head and one to the negative, as her father had taught her.

The engine hummed to life.

Love and gratitude made her heart ache as Kelsa swiftly re-coiled the wire and covered the battery. Would her father keep on rescuing her, teaching her, for the rest of her life? Probably. She prayed that he knew it.

Raven was already seated on the back of the long saddle when she swung her leg over the bike. Kelsa could feel the extra charge rushing to the wheels as it worked its way around the curves, past the silent cabins. This bike was far more powerful than hers, or even her father's. A gangster's bike. A road hog. And it would probably take the bikers half a day to get new tires.

She and Raven had gained a lead. She had a few minutes to spare.

Before turning onto the empty highway, Kelsa stopped the bike and turned to look at Raven. He still wore his real face, pale and tired in the moonlight, and he'd been leaning against her more heavily than usual.

"You said they were gambling on killing you back there. But you've been alive for centuries. Can you be killed? Really?"

"Yes." For once he spoke without hedging. "I can be killed. If I was, in a few more years, or centuries, there would be another Raven. But it wouldn't be me."

It made no sense, but Kelsa knew truth when she heard it. It was probably the clearest explanation he could give. She