The Shadow Crosser (The Storm Runner 3)

“You know I do nothing without a plan, Obispo,” she said. “We’re going to see an old friend.”

“Who?” Ren’s boots clicked along the walkway.

“Jazz.”

“Jazz?” I shouted as we passed—fittingly enough—a record store. I had the fleeting thought to run in and tell everyone to hold on to their albums because they might become valuable one day. “Was he even alive back then?” I asked, practically tripping to keep up with her, even with Fuego.

Brooks blew a curl off her face. “Giants age super slowly, but yeah, he was—is around, and I bet he can help us.” She explained that he’d known the hero twins since he was a kid, when his older brothers ran security for them, before Jazz got the job. She’d seen a picture of him from back then and would for sure recognize him.

Rosie snorted, zigzagging between groups of people who couldn’t see her for what she truly was. All they saw was a black three-legged dog.

Brooks turned down a side path, then took a hard left. The street was lined with old-style cars parked in front of flat-roofed houses with short-walled patios. Palm trees and other greenery grew over the peach, gray, and white walls.

“This isn’t the way to Jazz’s shop,” I said.

“He didn’t have the shop as a kid, Zane,” she said, walking faster now.

“Then how do you know where he lives?” Ren asked.

/> Brooks smiled and pointed at the street sign: BROOKS AVE. “It was the first thing he told me when we met: ‘When I was a kid, I used to live on a street with your name,’” she said, trying to do her best Jazz impression. “Sometimes he would take me here and show me the house he grew up in, just to get me out of the twins’ lair for a little while when I lived there with Quinn.”

“But if we go see him,” Ren said, hop-skipping to keep up, “won’t he remember you in the future?”

Brooks threw a side-glance in Adrik’s direction. “That’s where you come in.”

“You want me to drain a giant’s memory?” Adrik was already shaking his head.

It felt wrong on so many levels, yet I knew Brooks was right. We couldn’t give Jazz a memory of us when he was going to meet us in the future. Who knew what kind of time rule that would break?

Brooks stopped in front of a white house with bright turquoise trim. “This is it,” she said. There was a small round hatchback parked out front and a sign on the gate that read: TRESPASSERS WILL BE EATEN.

Yep, we were in the right place.

With a deep breath, Brooks reached over the gate and unlatched it from the inside.

“Uh,” Adrik said, “maybe we should knock or call first?”

“No time for that,” Brooks said as we all piled onto the little patio, where a dozen potted plants drooped, near death. The sounds of rock music and rolling wheels drew our attention. We followed them to the back of the house, where we ducked behind a hedge. Before us was a huge skateboard ramp in the shape of a giant U.

A blond boy, maybe eleven or twelve years old, glided up the incline and spun in midair before looping back down. His two friends cheered. “That was the baddest!” one shouted.

The other guy shook his head. “My turn!”

The blond kid kicked the end of his board, popping it up into his hand. “We need to put rockets on these things so we can go faster.”

“That’s him,” Brooks whispered with a huge smile.

I did a double take. I’d expected to see Jazz the giant—a huge bald, burly dude with an eye patch and tattoos. But this kid? He had shoulder-length hair, zero eye patch, and looked totally human.

“He’s no giant,” Adrik said.

“He has hair,” Ren said.

“Giants don’t get big until around age thirteen,” Brooks said.

Rosie groaned, drawing Jazz’s attention to the bushes. I threw my hand up to shush her, but it was too late. Jazz tugged something out of his waistband and rushed over. “We got company, guys,” he said to his friends.

And then he zapped me.