“What do I—”

“Just—” Kit coughed into her fist. Anji grasped Kit’s bony shoulders and hauled her sitting straight.

“This place is filthy,” she murmured. “Let’s get you on your feet.”

“I need a moment,” Kit said. “Just a moment, Anji, please.”

Anji cast around the alley, not sure what she was looking for. Her eyes locked on the blue bag still slung across the Hawk’s chest.

“Anything in there that can help?” she said, pointing at the bag.

“Nothing,” said Kit. “I need a fix. I need—” Her chest heaved in tiny, hitched gasps.

Anji frowned. “Are we close?” She snapped her fingers in Kit’s face. “Kit, are we close?”

Kit pointed a finger to the alley mouth. Anji released Kit and, still at a crouch, moved to the corner and looked across the way.

“What am I looking at, exactly?”

“It’s a bathhouse,” Kit said, rising first to her knees, then shakily to her feet.

“Are you sure you’re okay to—”

“I’m fine,” said Kit, coming level with Anji. They both stared across the street, their backs to the alley. “Let’s get a move—”

Something mewled behind them, like a large cat. Anji spun and nearly tumbled back.

The Dredger shambled toward them, its eyes sunken and gone to a red so deep Anji wondered how it could see. Its too-long arms hung like anchors from narrow shoulders, the gray, scaly skin drawn tight over its clavicles and clenching neck muscles. Another mewling sound issued from its mass of tangled, protruding teeth. It dragged one of its clawed feet, trailing a line of black blood.

“Don’t startle him,” said Kit at Anji’s side, any hint of exhaustion now gone from her voice. She slipped the blue satchel around, opened it with one hand, and pulled out two empty Rail vials.

“What are you—”

Kit held up her other hand, eyes still fixed on the Dredger as it whimpered and stuttered toward them. The creature flexed its taloned fingers, its stomach bulging in and out like a bellows.

“Peessss,” it gurgled, holding out a trembling hand. Its nails were caked in more blood, and Anji noticed razor-thin scratches all along its thighs, dribbling over the patchy fur where the scales ended.

“It’s okay,” said Kit. She sniffed, and Anji’s brow furrowed. The Hawk was crying. She uncorked the vials.

The Dredger barked another cry and hurtled forward, its bloodred eyes blinking.

Kit tossed the vials over the Dredger’s head. It hissed and whirled and dove onto the vials as they shattered against the alley floor. Horrid snorting and gasping issued from where the creature lay, inhaling bits of glass and dirt and grimy water.

Kit straightened and wiped at her nose. She pulled the bag open and stuffed her mask inside, then led them out of the alley while the Dredger snuffed at the broken glass behind them.

Chapter 38

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