They caught the shadow at the mouth of the alley, small, fast, and slippery as slime. Kaelan went first, a dark blur past the barrels.
The boy cut right, climbed a crate, and launched for the gutter.Kaelan pursued intently, solely focused on the small shadow that was getting away, when he made the turn, steel flashed from somewhere above.
Kaenan swore and yanked back, as the blade luckily skimmed his forearm,luckily missing his throat. Blood lined his sleeve in seconds.
He still didn't slow down, as the boy getting away propelled him forward.He hooked the boy midair and the two of them hit a wet stone.
The boy fought like a cat, caught in a sack, knees, elbows, teeth. Kaenan had to pin his wrists, limiting his movements. Lyra finally caught up with them and knelt, bringing her knife low."Enough," she said. Breathless "We're not the Crown."The boy froze, panting. His eyes looked too old for his face."You read it," he said, voice thin. "The scrap."Lyra nodded once. "You left it there?""I had to know who'd see it." He swallowed. "Did you bring the ledger?""Yes," Kaelan said."Good," the boy said. "Bad men might come for it.""Names," Lyra said.He shook his head. "We don't say names on the walls."Lyra eased her blade away, slow enough for him to track.
Kaelan let one wrist go and kept the other."Who sent you?" Kaelan asked.The boy looked past them, scanning the roofs. "This isn't about the murders," he said. "It's bigger.
The Wolf isn't the monster, he's been made out to be. He's earned the right…""What right?" Lyra asked."A right to know what's really at stake," the boy said. "If you want to see, come. Old glassworks. First bell after moonset. Only the two of you."
His gaze flicked to Lyra, like he knew about the page against her skin. "Bring what you hid."Kaelan's jaw ticked. "We don't chase ghosts," he said. "And I don't entertain prophecies."
"Then don't," the boy said. "Just look."A shout echoed from the far lane. Boots. Not hurrying. Hunting.Kaelan stood, pulling the boy up with him and winced when the cut on his arm pulled open again.
The blood seeped out..The boy saw it. His chin came up like he'd decided something. He reached into his shirt and put a small black coin into Lyra's hand."If you are seen, leave this on a sill," he whispered. "If you are not, keep it."
He tore free and ran three steps, a slip, a hard fall on his knees, then he was up again and gone, swallowed by the trees.Kaelan stared after him, jaw still tight.
"I don't like being led," he said.
"You do it well enough," Lyra said.He huffed, half a laugh that wasn't one.
Then the blood reached his wrist. He set his back to the wall and pressed his palm over the cut.Lyra caught his hand. "Don't," she said. "You'll grind grime into it.""It's a scratch.""It's more than that, you're losing a lot of blood."
She pulled him under an awning where water dripped steady from the wood. "Sit.""Lyra...""Sit."He sat.She tore a strip from the inside hem of her underskirt, the move so clean it felt rehearsed.
She poured a mean splash from the flask at her belt. Spirits hit the wound. He didn't hiss, but his shoulder did. She worked fast, clean, wrap, knot, her fingers sure, her face close.
His breath warmed her cheek. She could count his lashes.His mouth bent. "Next time, let's not chase after riddles."She glanced at the coin in her palm.
Rain had polished it. The crescent nick caught the gutter light like a small, private moon."Not a riddle," she said. "A map."He watched her fingers settle the bandage. Watched the way she didn't flinch from his blood.
Something moved across his face, there and gone."This thing between us," he said, voice even. "We should name it."She didn't look up. "Just focus." she said. "I have no idea what you're insinuating."
"This heat between us, do you not feel it?" he asked, his eyes staring deep into hers challenging her.Her hands paused."We keep tripping over it," he went on. "In stairwells. In doorways.
In rooms that want us dead. Unextinguished, it makes people stupid. I'm not fond of that. Maybe we burn it down and get clean."She lifted her head, eyes steady. "You think bedding me is a plan?""I think pretending we don't want to, is a bad one."
Lyra tied the knot and left her hand on his sleeve a second longer than needed. "Well, I'm sorry, you're that distracted with me. Look for other ways to quell your heat" She feigned irritation, knowing fully well he was right about one thing.
There was indeed a thing and she was too afraid to give it any attention.He leaned in. Not fast. Not a pounce. Her breath met his. Close enough to feel the cut of his mouth, the rough of his shave."No," he said. " I want you and no one else would do."A boot scraped the corner.
They were apart in the same beat, her hand to her knife, his to the wall, pushing up. Two men in cloaks passed the mouth of the alley and kept going. One carried a paste bucket. The other a roll of notices.Kaelan's eyes flicked. "We wait and see what they glue," he said.
They waited, counting heartbeats until the men turned the next corner. Then they stepped out into the softer rain and walked like they belonged in it.Outside the baker's, a fresh sheet bled in the wet. By Order of the Crown. A reward. A description that wasn't a name but was close enough to hurt.
The rebel to be named at noon.Lyra felt the coin in her palm go heavier. The boy's time: first bell after moonset. The Crown's time: noon.Two clocks. One city.Kaelan looked at her, rain in his lashes, bandage already spotted."We go," he said. "Together. I'll look, but I won't kneel to a story.""I don't need you to kneel," she said. "Just to stand beside me."He nodded.
Behind them, the paste man hammered another notice against the brick.
The sound carried like a slow drum.Lyra slid the coin into her pocket. "Moonset," she said."Moonset," he agreed.
They turned down the lane, the city listening, the night giving them just enough cover to believe they could make it to the next corner, and maybe to the one after that without being noticed.
She thought about informing him of the evidence she had hidden. She wondered if it was wise to let him know they were killing him with her name as a catalyst and watch the fragile trust between them shatter.
She folded her fist instead. Not because she didn't trust him, but because it was not a suitable time yet.