She almost ripped the card in half then, and damn the consequences. Curiosity stopped her, and fear. If Ms. Kevarian saved Kai’s life, she’d expect payment. Besides, if this girl was telling the truth, she might need the Craftswoman’s help later.

They stumbled four legged out onto the porch, and toward the fence. Kai sweat from the knife at her side as much as from the heat.

“Where are we going?” she asked when they reached the street.

“The poet’s place. East Claw. So you can see him dead. We’ll take the back roads.”

“Are they safe?”

“Let me worry about that,” Izza said, in a tone that meant she didn’t plan to worry much.

They turned right, south, downhill, toward the ocean.

Night birds whooped in the canopy. Izza burned at Kai’s side, a heating coil in the shape of a girl. Kai felt no give in her, no softness at all—bones and muscle, sinew and tendon. She had a springy gait, the kind of light step that never assumed solid ground beneath her feet.

Down and into the city. Trees and spreading lawns gave way to plaster and brick. Izza turned them onto a side street Kai hadn’t realized was a street: a narrow alley so crowded with trash bins and old crates and chained-shut doors it seemed a dead end. Kai knew the island well; an hour before she’d have sworn she could navigate it blindfolded. But she lost herself as Izza turned them off the first alley onto a second, and then a third.

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve never been here before, is all.”

“Of course not.”

Kai bridled at the assumption of that sentence, then realized the girl was only stating fact. Of course Kai wouldn’t know these alleys. She never needed them.

“These are safe paths for you,” Kai said.

“Yes.”

“Safer than main roads.”

“Not everyone’s as lucky as you are.”

They rounded a sharp corner and came to a chain-link fence. Izza stopped walking, so Kai stopped, too.

“Can you climb this?” Izza said.

“No. We could go around. Greenfrond’s over that way somewhere, I think.”

“Too risky.”

The girl had few good options. Use the main road and trust Kai not to shout for help, or take these back alleys at half speed.

“I’ll pick the lock,” Izza said after a while. “You lean against that wall there.”

“Okay.”

“No one will hear if you call for help. And even if they hear, they won’t come.”

“I figured.”

Izza walked Kai to the wall, and slid out from under her arm. Kai lurched forward without support, but caught herself against the bricks. Logical: Izza didn’t want herself between Kai and the wall. Concerned even now that Kai was faking. Fair. She was, a little. Exaggerating for effect.