On the other hand, how much did I still have to lose?

“Are you sure about this?” he asked at last. “I can still take you to Rhyanon. There might be another way.”

I smiled at him.

“No,” I said. “I have to break Finn out of the Renewal Wards myself.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-NINE

Osan had returned the cab to the stables, so we crossed the city on foot. I wore a scarf around my hair, and he had dressed like a labourer. Not much of a disguise, but he said it would be inconspicuous enough. We travelled the labyrinth of backstreets through the dimming twilight, quick and unspeaking.

I hadn’t wanted him to come. After he had returned from delivering my messages, I told him to go back to Rhyanon; be safe, I would do the rest by myself. But Osan had only brushed me off irritably.

“Don’t be insufferable,” he said.

Getting inside the Food Management warehouse was easy enough; everyone in the department knew that a spare key was hidden in the gap under the loose paving stones beside the door. Osan kept watch on the street while I descended to the basement.

The dark room was full of fluttering, the rustling of wings—someone had brought in a new batch of crossmoths. I took two empty jars down from a shelf, and then a third, just in case. Small, sterile, with polished tin lids. I wedged them inside my rucksack; using the jacket Osan had lent me to cushion them. I could not afford for the glass to shatter.

As I turned to leave, I noticed the markings on the wall. Smudged black letters, just above the insect holding tanks. I frowned and moved closer.

taken everything from me

That was all, just those four words scrawled in charcoal. Yet the sight of them unnerved me; I was sure they had not been there the last time I visited the basement. The letters spiked and lurched unsteadily, like whoever left the message had been shaking. Familiar. My eyes lingered over the angular cut of the “f” and “y.”

This was my own handwriting.

A dog barked in the distance, and I snapped out of my daze. I hurried back up the stairs to Osan.

From the warehouse, we made our way up through Major East to the main thoroughfare. A couple of citizens still strolled along Pearl Boulevard, but it was getting late. By the next bell, it would be more difficult to blend into the crowd. Across the street, a hawker was selling the last of his half-price copies of the Resounder. “Murderer’s Execution Takes Unexpected Turn!” read the headline.

A street away from the Martyrium stairs, I pulled Osan aside.

“This is where we say goodbye,” I whispered. “After dark, there’s a lacework web around the Martyrium. It triggers an alert when civilians approach the building.”

“So I can’t come with you.”

I tried to smile. “I’ll be fine. You’ve taken me this far.”