Tell them I’m coming.
Painter touched his mouth, ran his hands over his face. And then he became aware of a strange sound, like a quiet popping or soft crackling. Or like the flapping of leathery wings. Painter glanced around again to look for the source of the noise. And when it occurred to him to look over the edge of the building, his breath caught in his throat.
The streets below were teeming with Weir.
Moving through the city after dark had become more dangerous than Cass had anticipated. The curfew was still in effect, and it seemed like the number of city guards had swelled in her short absence. On top of that, there were here and there pockets of rough-looking men and women skulking in the shadows. Whether they were working in league with the guards, or just out on their own accord, they certainly weren’t operating in any official capacity. Cass wondered if these were the same kinds of people that had slain Luck and the others. But there was no time for questions now, and fortunately moving unseen had become almost second nature to her, particularly when she was on her own. The fatigue from the day’s journey slowed her some, but not as much as she would’ve expected.
Cass found her way to Aron’s shop on the eastern side of the city, in the outer ring of buildings set closest to the wall. His was one of the larger establishments in Morningside and had actually been two separate buildings at one time. The lower floors were dark, but light shone around the edges of the curtains pulled across the upstairs windows.
There was no one out front that she could see, but given what she’d seen at Mister Sun’s, Cass had every reason to expect there were guards at every door. She had no idea what kind of reception she might get, she didn’t want to risk a violent confrontation. She crept around the building looking for alternate ways in.
On the backside of the building, there was a balcony on the second floor. There were no obvious ways to gain access to it from ground, but the building next door had a decorative trellis that was easy to scale. Cass gained the roof of that building and paused there, watching for patrols. She saw only one guard on the wall. Too many in the city, too few on the walls.
When she was sure it was clear, she ran and leapt the gap between the two buildings and landed lightly on Aron’s roof. She crept to the edge and lowered herself down to the balcony. Inside, she could hear voices. She tried the handle to the door, but of course it was locked. That made her think of Wren, and she paused for a moment, wondering where he was and what was happening with him. She took a deep breath and steadied herself.
She couldn’t imagine that anyone on the Council would do him any harm. Not now. Not when he had returned so peacefully.
Actually, she could imagine it. But she refused to let herself do so. She would find Aron and, with him, answers.
Cass looked around on the balcony to see if there was anything she could use to open the door; a hidden key, or secret panel. And while she searched, the door clicked and swung open. She whirled to face the door and found herself staring into the radiant blue eyes of one of her kindred.
“What… Lady Cass?” she said, surprise evident in her voice and on her face. It was Kit. “Lady Cass, what are you doing here?”
Kit came forward and embraced her in strong arms, and then stepped back quickly, as if remembering her place. “Oh, I’m sorry, Lady,” she said. “I was just so surprised…”
Cass smiled in spite of herself and hugged Kit in return.
“Kit, it’s so good to see you. I feared you were dead.”
“No, ma’am, not yet,” she answered. “Though not for lack of trying. But really, what are you doing out here? How did you get out here?”
“I climbed. I need to see Aron.”
“OK,” Kit said. “OK, sure. He’s inside.”
Kit led her inside, through a large open room with wooden floors and a number of chairs. It was warm and comfortable, dusky with its lights turned low. There were several Awakened throughout the room, and others besides. The conversation all but stopped as Kit escorted Cass through.
They found Aron sitting in a small upstairs room in what looked like a workshop. He was sitting on a stool and had something on a workbench in front of him. He was hunched over it intently when Kit tapped on the door. There was a long wide bandage across the back of his head.
“Yep?” Aron said, without turning.
“Sorry to bother you, Aron, but someone’s here to see you.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” he said, swiveling on his stool. He blinked a couple of times as his old eyes adjusted, and then his eyes opened wide and he shot to his feet.
“Easy, Aron,” Cass said. “I’m not here to fight. I just want to talk.”