Chapter One

Ali woke up propped against a wall. Someone was shaking her. “Ali. Ali, wake up.” The voice was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

Opening her eyes, she found herself looking into violet-blue eyes. “Oh.” She yawned. “I was looking for you. I fell asleep...”

“What are you doing out here?” The boy demanded. “This part of the city is dangerous. You should go home.”

Ali blinked. “What home?” She wanted to know. “Surely you don’t mean the place where a man lives who did this to me.” She held up her left arm, which was bruised and bleeding.

The boy- Excalibur- caught his breath. “He didn’t.”

“He did.” Ali said, her voice shaking. “He’s been doing it for years.”

“Let me see.” Came another voice, and a black-haired girl stepped out from behind Excalibur, kneeling in front of Ali and taking her arm in her hands.

“Is it broken?” Excalibur asked her.

“Yes,” She replied, “But it should be fairly easy to heal. I still have some cloth left over from the last attack the Cobras made, I should be able to bandage it now.”

“Then do it.” Excalibur said.

“Wait, who are you?” Ali asked. “And how do you know it’s broken? What attack? Who are the Cobras?”

“Later.” Excalibur said, gently brushing the hair out of Ali’s face. “We’ll tell you everything once we’ve got you properly bandaged and take you home. Not,” he added, seeing her expression, “Back to your place. We’ll take you back to our home.”

She’d met him for the first time only a week ago- or saw him, really. She hadn’t spoken to him until she saw him again the next day. Or the day after that, she couldn’t remember.

She’d been just walking along, minding her business, and happened to glance into an alley. There she saw two boys, talking surreptitiously in the shadows. She didn’t know why she stopped. She knew it was probably a drug deal, that it was dangerous to stay, that she could get hurt, but something compelled her to press against the wall and listen.

They were speaking too quietly to make out all the words, but what she did catch made no sense. There was something about a sword and a curse, to start with. Then the black-haired boy said something about needing to take care of his family and the blonde boy laughed, answering, “You are a fool, Excalibur. They will only turn on you when I offer them what you cannot.” And then there was some quiet swearing and a BANG, and the black-haired boy came stumbling out of the alley rubbing his eyes. When he straightened up, he looked through Ali as if she weren’t even there, then took off running down the street.

She’d seen him again the next day in the same place, this time lounging outside the alley instead of inside. When she edged past him with a nervous look, he caught her by the arm and said, “You dropped something yesterday.”

So he had seen her, after all. He held out a gold coin- something she had never seen before, larger than a quarter, with a cornucopia engraved on it.

“Th-that’s not mine.” She stammered, and he frowned.

“You sure?” He asked. “You’re not with them, then?”

“Who?” She asked, bewildered, and then it dawned on her. “Is this some kind of gang thing?” She said, horrified, and tried to yank her arm free of his grasp. She failed miserably.

His eyes narrowed. “You could say so.” He said, and let go of her.

As she ran back towards home, as fast as she could, she heard him calling after her- “You better look out! They’ll come for you next! When you need help, ask for Excalibur!”

Like that’ll ever happen. He’s insane. She thought to herself, terrified.

Of course, he’d been right in the end, but she hadn’t known it then.

She was exhausted and in pain and couldn’t walk very well on her own, so Excalibur carried her. The girl- who he told her was called Weaver- went ahead of them, her movements sure and purposeful and graceful in a way that Ali envied. She stopped at every corner and glanced around it to make sure it was safe, then gave them the thumbs up when she saw nothing. It was like something from a spy movie, Ali thought dizzily, and giggled to herself before she remembered what a dangerous place they were in.

The further they went, the fewer people they passed. Those they did see were clearly homeless. More than half the buildings- most of them apartments- were totally abandoned, and some of them were crumbling from years of disuse. It was one of these that they stepped into, a four-story red brick building with sad, curling wallpaper inside.

The were only inside for a minute before they stepped out again through a side door that led onto a wide, boarded-up alley between this building and its neighbor. It was there that Excalibur’s “family” lived.

They were a motley collection of roughly 30 men, women and children, ranging in age from 6 to 60. They were all dressed in odd assortments of clothes. Many of them sat around on wooden crates or tatty cushions laid on the ground. They all seemed delighted to see Excalibur, and many of the smaller children came running up to hug his knees in greeting.

He waded through the sea of people until he found a relatively clean cushion to put Ali down on. It was softer than she had expected, considering how little stuffing was left in it.

“You stay here until you’ve mostly healed.” He told her firmly. “It’ll go faster than you expect. Weaver’s got a knack for making people feel better. She’s our doctor.”

Ali looked skeptically at the girl, who was probably about 13. Weaver stared coldly back.

Excalibur brushed several strands of red hair back from Ali’s face and then stood up. “I have to leave,” he said, “But I’ll be back soon. In the meanwhile, you rest. Your arm might heal fast, but it takes longer than that to recover from the things they do to you.”

Ali uncurled her hand and looked dully at the coin that lay there, sunlight glinting off its face. She shuddered.