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Drake returned, munching on a stick of cotton candy. In the corner of Niobe’s eye, Lilith tensed, took a tiny step backward, then stopped herself.

When Drake saw Niobe talking to Michelle, his shoulders slumped in relief. Niobe grinned at him.

“It was worse than you realized,” said Michelle. She took Niobe’s arm, squeezing it. “But you’re safe now.”

“Worse? How could it have been worse?”

“Your friend isn’t who you think he is.”

“Oh, crap,” said Drake.

Niobe, Michelle, and Lilith looked at him in unison. He was looking past them, up the street.

Niobe said, “Drake? What’s wrong?”

He pointed. The crowd on the midway had thinned out. Probably, Niobe realized, because of all the cops at the edge of the throng. They cleared a path for the leather-clad woman they’d bumped into earlier in the afternoon. Her long braid swung back and forth like a pendulum as she strode toward them. Whoever she was, she wasn’t a hooker. Assassins and kinky call girls had similar fashion sense.

“Wait,” said Michelle, staring at Drake. She looked very pale, and not as pretty as she had a moment ago. “That’s the friend you’ve been protecting? A kid?”

“Who’d you think I was with?”

“The most dangerous fugitive in America,” said a man’s voice. The words didn’t frighten Niobe nearly as much as the cocksure tone of their delivery did. “Public enemy number one.”

A man in a well-cut business suit swaggered through the crowd. He elbowed his way between two policemen to join the leather-clad woman.

Niobe turned back to Michelle. “What have you done?”

Michelle shook her head, looking dazed. “I—I didn’t know.”

It was all for nothing. Everything Niobe had done to protect Drake, everything she’d endured, everything—everyone—she’d sacrificed: meaningless. All flushed away thanks to the Amazing Bubbles. Amazing was right.

Niobe grabbed Michelle’s arm. “What have you done?” Her face felt hot. So did the new tears trickling down her face. Whether they were tears of sorrow or rage, she couldn’t say. “I trusted you! They’re going to kill him!”

“They said . . .” Michelle turned to face the swaggering hick and his companion. “You didn’t tell me he was just a kid! What else didn’t you tell me?”

Niobe grabbed Drake’s hand. “Run!”

They headed away from the man in the suit, toward where the crowd hadn’t thinned out. Behind them, Michelle’s voice rose above the hubbub: “I do not appreciate being USED!”

They hadn’t run more than a few yards, Niobe pulling at Drake for him to keep up, when a paunchy, middle-aged woman stepped out of the crowd. She wore a silvery cape and a black bodysuit that covered every inch of her body except her face. The cape might have been natural at Barbarian Days, and she might have been just another festival goer, if not for the huge German shepherd at her side.

Niobe turned in a slow circle. Behind them, the Hound of the Baskervilles and the woman in the silvery cape. Before them, the swaggering man and his companion. And all along the edges of the crowd, half a dozen cops. They were surrounded and outnumbered.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Drake had been happy. Now, looking at the people who were there to take them in, he felt almost sick. They’d walked halfway to hell across Texas, and for what? So the person Niobe had counted on to help them could turn them in.

The crowd was backing off, far enough to be safe from whatever was going to happen but close enough to see.

The big man in the suit spoke. “My name is Billy Ray. I’m a federal agent. Stand away from the kid, lady. If you cooperate, things will go better for you. Resist and we’ll just drag your sorry ass away kicking and screaming.” He smiled. Ass-kicking obviously was what this guy did.

Niobe put an arm around Drake. “Go away. He’s just a little boy.”

“Yes, go away.” Bubbles walked up next to Drake and Niobe. Her large shadow enveloped them both.

Billy Ray made a fist. Drake turned his head to look behind them. The woman in the shiny cape and her dog stopped. “What do you think you’re doing, Balloon Girl? It’s four to one.” Billy Ray pointed to his friends. “Not to mention the fact that we represent the government of the United States. Your government, in case your memory needs refreshing.”

Bubbles looked around slowly. “If my government can’t get by without harming children, maybe we need a new one.”

Drake knew about Bubbles from TV and the Web. He started punching her with sharp jabs. Maybe it would help build up her energy a little, although she was really big already. It hurt his hands, though.

“You’re making a life decision here, a mistake you won’t be able to walk away from. The Committee means squat to me. If you cross us you will go down and it’s going to hurt.” Billy Ray grinned. It was the nastiest excuse for a smile Drake had ever seen.

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