No one questioned us.
Inside, the heat was stifling. The air tasted wet. We crossed catwalks slick with condensation and ducked throughservice corridors marked only by numbers and chalk scrawls.
At the far end, a door stood ajar.
Elias was already there when we reached it, leaning against the wall as if he belonged there. Griff stood nearby, arms crossed, scanning the hall. Bishop and Eamon arrived a few minutes later, Eamon wiping sweat from his brow, Bishop adjusting his scarf.
“That went too easily,” Griff muttered.
“Don’t jinx us with that kind of talk,” Nox replied.
We gathered in a narrow alcove where the noise of the machinery masked conversation. I pulled the folded map Mirae had given me from inside my coat and spread it on a crate. I took a few moments looking it over and memorizing the route to the safehouse Mirae had prepared for us and then put it away.
“Time to go,” I dictated, looking at each one of my men in turn.
Without a word, we slipped down a narrow service corridor behind the main room that opened into a storage space stacked with crates marked for delivery. From there, a second door led to a service alley already alive with the city’s evening shift.
We slipped out one by one.
The alley smelled of damp brick and old grease. Steam vented from a pipe overhead, hissing softly. We turned left without hesitation, then right, then cut through a passage so narrow Griff had to angle his shoulders just to fit through it. On the other side, the city opened up again.It was crowded and noisy, but the people were indifferent.
We walked with purpose but without hurry. Past a row of stalls selling tools and fittings powered by hand-cranked presses. Through a knot of foot traffic thick with workers changing shifts.
No one looked at us twice.
After several blocks, the buildings changed. The stone gave way to patched brick. Most of the windows were barred or boarded up.
“This is it,” Nox murmured.
The safehouse sat between a pawnshop and a shuttered dye shop. It was three stories high and narrow. The door looked like it hadn’t been opened in years. I pressed the latch in the way Mirae had shown me, and it yielded.
Inside was warm, cramped, and deliberately unremarkable. A common room with mismatched chairs, a table scarred by use, and a kettle already steaming. The windows were covered with heavy cloth. It looked abandoned, but the fireplace had been stacked with fresh wood, and the kitchen counter was covered with supplies.
We set our packs down and took positions by habit. Bishop settled near the front. Nox checked the back door. Elias stood where he could see the stairs and the street through a sliver in the curtain. Eamon dug out his medical kit from one of the crates and Griff started a fire.
“Sit,” Elias finally said, his voice gentle.
I realized I’d been standing in the middle of the room with nothing in my hands, waiting for the next decision to make. Inodded and took the chair nearest the hearth, the heat already easing the chill from my bones.
Griff glanced over his shoulder. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I said.
He smiled like he’d been expecting that answer and turned back to the fire, feeding it another split log until the flames caught and settled into a steady burn. The light softened the room, casting warm shadows across it.
Nox rummaged through a crate on the counter and came up with a can of black beans, a bundle of herbs, and a small tin of salt. “We’ve got options,” he announced. “They’re limited, but options all the same.”
Eamon stepped in beside him. “Let’s keep it simple,” he said. “Make it something warm.”
Bishop rolled up his sleeves and joined them without a word, already filling a pot with water from the pump. He caught my eye briefly, gave a small nod, and turned back to the stove.
I watched them move around each other. They passed tools and ingredients to each other without asking, the rhythm familiar enough that it felt comfortably and implausibly domestic.
“You don’t have to supervise us all the time, fearless leader,” Eamon joked lightly, glancing over his shoulder at me.
I smiled. “I’m not. I’m just enjoying the show.”
Nox snorted. “Careful. She’ll start taking notes.”
