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My eyes narrowed. What was Dixon up to? And why didn't he want his comrades to know about it?
The giants finished unloading their latest haul and hopped out of the back of the truck with their now-empty boxes. Dixon waved them toward the museum.
"You two go back inside and get the next load," he said. "I'm going down to the bridge to check on the others. "
The giants nodded, walked up the main steps, and disappeared into the museum. Dixon set off in the other direction, heading away from the truck and the museum. Curious, I crept after him.
Dixon followed the main road down the sloping hill to the covered bridge. Luckily, the gardens ran alongside the pavement, so I was able to slide from tree to tree and bush to bush and move parallel to him. My bare feet didn't make a sound on the soft, dew-covered grass, but Dixon didn't even think to look around and see if someone might be following him. He thought everyone was secure inside the museum.
He'd realize how wrong he was soon enough - when I killed him.
Finally, Dixon reached the bridge. I stopped in the gardens and hunkered down behind a holly bush, about twenty feet from him. Two of the old-fashioned iron streetlights were planted in the pavement on either side of the bridge, although their golden glow did little to dissipate the shadows spilling out from the mouth of the structure.
Two other giants - a man and a woman - were crouched right inside the bridge entrance. The woman was shining a flashlight at the wooden boards while the man rummaged through a duffel bag on the ground next to him. I thought he might have another welder's torch stuffed inside, like the men in the vault had, but instead, the giant drew out a crowbar and a roll of duct tape.
Along with a bomb.
I squinted and leaned forward, wondering if I was imagining things, but the giant held the device up in the flashlight's beam, and I got an even better look at it. A flowery blossom of colored wires and a cell phone t
aped and plugged into a small, foil-wrapped brick. Yep, that was a bomb all right. My eyebrows shot up in my face. What the hell were they going to do with that?
"How's it going, Anton?" Dixon asked.
"Good," the male giant replied. "We're just getting ready to put everything into place. "
Anton set the bomb and the duct tape aside, picked up the crowbar, and used it to pry up one of the bridge boards. The old, weathered wood groaned in protest, but it was no match for his strength. When the board was free, Anton taped the bomb to the underside of the wood before slowly, carefully fitting the board back into its original position.
"You're up, Hannah," Dixon said, looking at the female giant, the one with the flashlight.
Hannah got down on her knees and held out her hand. A moment later, a bit of elemental Fire sparked to life on her index finger, and her eyes began to glow a dull orange from her power, like two matches burning in her face. Her magic pricked at my skin like tiny, invisible needles, making me grind my teeth together. Hannah didn't have nearly as much juice as Mab had. In fact, she was quite weak in her magic, but she still had enough power to lean down and trace something into the top of the board: a rune.
In addition to using them as their personal, familial, and business symbols, elementals could also imbue runes with magic and get them to perform specific functions. No doubt Hannah was scorching some sort of Fire symbol into the wood.
Hannah finished creating the symbol and leaned back on her heels. She let go of her power, and the elemental Fire was snuffed out on her fingers, causing a bit of smoke to waft up into the night sky. The uncomfortable feel of her magic vanished a moment later.
"Good job," Dixon said, clapping her on the shoulder. "Your rune and that explosive will be more than enough to blow the bridge. "
So that's what they were planning, to toast the bridge. The when was easy enough to figure out: after they'd sacked up all of the art and were on the mainland once more. But why destroy the bridge at all? All of the hostages would already be dead, so it wasn't like there would be anyone left to follow them or sound an alarm . . . unless . . . unless the giants didn't plan to kill the hostages after all.
I tapped my fingers against the hilt of my knife as I tried to figure things out.
Obliterating the bridge was one way of trapping all of the hostages on the island and avoiding chase. But why even leave the hostages alive in the first place? It wasn't like Clementine had any qualms about killing people. So why let anyone live who could identify or come after her after the fact? It didn't make sense that she would, especially if she wanted her giants to take over the underworld from all the crime bosses being held in the rotunda.
And it wouldn't solve the problem of the cops that would be hot on her trail just as soon as someone sounded the alarm. By the time the giants got done in the museum, they'd have four big, heavy trucks full of art - too much for a quick getaway, especially given the twisting, curving two-lane road that led from the museum back down into the city. Clementine had to have realized that. So what else did she have up her sleeve? How was she planning to evade the po-po? That I didn't know worried me.
"Pack it up and get back to the museum," Dixon said. "We've still got more rooms to go through. "
Hannah grinned. "Sure thing. We wouldn't want all that art to just hang there, now, would we?"
All three giants laughed. Bad jokes seemed to be the calling card of this crew.
Dixon left the bridge and headed back up the hill, leaving the other two giants behind to collect the gear they'd stowed a few feet away from the bridge entrance. Dixon started whistling, and the cheerful sound made the black, murderous rage beat in my heart once more. I would have liked nothing more than to follow the bastard and knife him in the back for what he'd done to Jillian, but he wasn't important right now - the bomb was.
Hannah turned off her flashlight and put it down on the pavement while Anton shoved his crowbar back into his duffel bag. Dixon was already out of sight - and, more important, earshot, since I couldn't hear him whistling anymore.
Knife in hand, I straightened up and headed toward the edge of the garden. Unfortunately, the foliage stopped short of the bridge, leaving about ten feet of dead space and plenty of chance for the giants to see my approach.
I thought about using my Stone magic to harden my skin in case they were able to get to their guns quicker than I was able to get to them. But in the end, I decided not to. I wanted to conserve my magic as much as possible, since I didn't know how many more giants I might have to fight before the night was through.
