“It’s where people would’ve waited for the trains, if the trains had ever come. There are benches, and ticket counters, and things like that.” Now Houjin was the one who sounded weary, though Rector preferred to think that the boy was only thinking. That’s what he’d told him, after all.

“You’re just going to leave me here?”

Before Houjin could answer, a faint padding of footsteps echoed from the corridor.

Both boys looked to the entryway and were soon rewarded by the sight of a Chinese man wearing white. The newcomer was an inch or two taller than Rector; somehow his clothes both fit him well and flowed around him like a pale and dancing shadow.

Rector tried not to stare. “Yaozu?” He immediately felt dumb for putting a question mark on the end.

“Ah, yes. Rector Sherman. There you are. Thank you for coming.”

“Um … you’re welcome?”

Yaozu’s English sounded better than Houjin’s, which was saying something. He spoke Chinese to Houjin, who nodded and flashed Rector a half smile that Rector couldn’t return, no matter how hard he tried: it battled his mood, and came out as a grimace instead.

“See you later,” Houjin promised.

And then he bowed a hasty departure that left Rector and Yaozu alone together in the big meeting room, which suddenly felt rather warm.

Chapter 10

Ten

Rector stood there shifting from foot to foot while Yaozu appraised him. The boy was tired of being appraised. It made him feel like somebody’s horse. Under different circumstances, he might’ve opened his mouth about it, but not here, and not now. Not to this fellow, who folded his arms and pursed his lips like he was considering what he wanted, and what to ask, and how to proceed.

To start, Yaozu suggested, “Why don’t we sit down? Join me at the table, and we’ll have a conversation.”

“About what?”

“You. Coming here. What you want, what you expect. What use you can be.”

“To you?”

As if he were mildly surprised, Yaozu said, “To the city, of course. Think of it that way. If you aren’t any use to the city, then you aren’t any use to me.”

“I heard Zeke isn’t any use to you.”

“That’s true, he’s not. It’s strange, really. Given his parentage, you’d think he’d show more … potential. However, given that his mother is so popular with the Doornails, there’s no sense in throwing the lad back over the wall.”

Rector squirmed. “Aw, Zeke’s not so bad.”

“If I thought he was, I’d have done something about it. But you’re not here to talk about Zeke. You’re here to tell me what you’re doing inside my city. So far as a land of opportunity goes, you could’ve picked greener pastures.”