Behind them, Winslow remained seated. After a few seconds, he said, “This is a rare treat.”
“What’s happening?” Jack asked, almost shouting be heard over the raucous noise.
“Who can know for sure?” Winslow said with a shrug, as if unconcerned. “Maybe a prison riot? Possibly a runner? Either way, it won’t last too long.” Winslow shrugged again.
Jack knew one thing absolutely. Their five minutes were definitely up.
Madelaine lifted up on tippy toes, peeking out the window of the door, which was still locked from the outside. “I can’t see anything.”
Jack didn’t have to stand on tippy toes. He had to stoop slightly to see out.
“Do you see the warden?” she asked.
“No. All I see is Indigo Jones with his head in his window, still whining and complaining about kale.”
Jack shouted, “Hey! Warden Draven. Let us out of here!”
He heard the sudden staccato of the warden’s boot heels racing toward them. To the right, Indigo Jones’s face disappeared from his cell window and he started a different chant. “I want out! Let me out!”
Jack rolled his eyes. The warden ignored Jones and headed toward Winslow’s cell, key in hand.
“I can’t open your cell door quite yet,” he said, glancing over his shoulder toward the elevator. He didn’t seem panicked, which was worse, in Jack’s estimation.
“When, then?” Jack asked, trying to be patient.
Draven looked at his tactical watch and said, “Another minute or so.” He lowered his arm.
“But we’re free to go when you can let us out, yes?”
Draven hesitated. “Yes,” he said after a long pause. “In theory.”
“But?” Jack asked.
“The elevator is locked down and you will have to use the spiral stairs.”
“Twenty flights down?” Jack asked.
“Better than staying up here. This tower is on the cold side. Along with the elevators, the other amenities also cease working.”
“Amenities?”
“Well, the most important amenity is the heat. It won’t take long for this tower to get cold.”
Jack traded a look with Madelaine. “Stairwell it is, yes?”
“Yes. Whatever it takes,” she said. “We still have a time constraint on this errand, right?” Jack nodded.
Winslow, his voice cutting easily through the noise, said, “Before you leave the prison grounds, don’t forget that the silent moon will need a name.” They both spun around.
“Who is the silent moon?” Madelaine asked. Veyre had mentioned a silent moon and told her to give over Jack’s name when it was called for.
Winslow tilted his head to one side. “Don’t you know?”
“No, I don’t.”
Winslow smiled and shrugged. “I can’t help you. I’ve already done what is required. I did my part.” He did seem quite satisfied with their short meeting.
Madelaine turned to Jack with an expression that bordered on annoyed disbelief, but she seemed to shake it off. Apparently, the silent moon was going to have to be a worryfor another time, along with the escaped wolf and the laughing danger man.
