Daniel stretched his legs out, taking in the quiet of the night and the patrolling canoes. “That’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

The arched brow and smirk hinted at secrets. “Maybe when I know you better.”

“What, like, you stole it?”

“Hey, no. But it is a long story. Like with your old book.” He looked relaxed, but his eyes swept the surrounding building tops, the dark yawn of windows, on a regular circuit.

“Then how about this source of yours? Are you sure he’s saying true?”

“Just full of questions. And I figured you a hard woman to get a word out of.”

“My friend was pretty upset, and I’m not big on guessing games.” I wriggled my shoes, still damp from the day’s row. “I’d never say anything that’d put your guy in danger.”

“Promise?”

I set my lips tight. “Now you’re making fun . . .”

“Not at all. Swear on the old book? Like I did, remember?”

Silly as it felt, my hand went to my gut wallet. “I . . . um . . . okay, sure. I swear.”

“Good.” He slid around the stern bench to settle in beside me. “It’s a two-source relay. I have a friend with a working landline, who has a contact with same on the Mainland.”

Huh. “What’s a landline?”

Daniel chuckled. “Forgot who I was talking to. It’s a phone tied to a physical cable. Runs under the river. Not many left, and even fewer working, but my friend . . . well, he lives in a bygone era. Never believed in cell phones, and turns out, he was right. Managed to turn up some working numbers over there.”

Sounded like magic. But I had to wonder how sensitive this information really was if he’d told me so easily. Unless he wanted it out there for some reason, and thought me a likely leaker, despite my promise. Didn’t much like how that felt.

“So I check in with him now and then. Lately, even he can’t believe what he’s hearing. He’s concerned for the folks he’s in touch with.”

“Where are they?”

“He doesn’t say. What I don’t know, I can’t tell.” He turned away to smile at the denfolk milling about inside the cabin, discussing possible purchases or stalled with an open book in hand, reading intently. “Look at that. That’s why I do what I do.”

“Are you changing the subject?”

“What? No, not really. Not much more I can tell you. Why does it matter?”

“Like I said. Wondering how true it all is.”

“I don’t think he’s lying to me.”

“It kind of cuts off a lot of possibilities. But you don’t seem too worried about it.”