my legs. Thankfully, Finn’s flat wasn’t far from here.
He lived in a rickety old tenement in Slainwolf court. A thousand years ago, wolves had roamed the streets. The citizens of Dovren slaughtered them, and tossed the carcasses over the city walls. Here, centuries ago, lay a refuse heap of wolf corpses and garbage. Hence—Slainwolf court.
Sad, really.
I’d always had the superstition that their spirits still lurked under the stones. Maybe I was losing my mind, but it was like I could feel them now, still alive and buried beneath the street.
The city would give me strength, like it always had.
Dark brick rose up on either side of me—the crumbling remnants of the old Dovren wall on one side, and tenements on the other. Lines of laundry criss-crossed the narrow lane, with petticoats and dresses swaying in the breeze.
A buried power simmered beneath the dark cobbles. I had the sense that it needed to be unleashed. Finn would say this was all my superstitions, but I could feel that I was on the right path. Today, I felt the magic of the city stronger than ever.
Raven King, I’m doing this for you.
I crossed under an old bridge where a railway was supposed to go. No one had ever bothered to finish it in this part of the city, like they’d just given up. Now, a foxglove tree grew from the spot where the trains never ran. It would bloom soon, with pale lavender flowers. In the time of the Raven King, this was a verdant woodland, outside the city walls. I wondered if maybe that was where Dovren’s power lay buried—the old roots, dormant under the ground.
At last, I found my way to his building, notable for the arched doorway with faded green paint. I unlocked his door and crossed into his tidy flat. It wasn’t fancy, but Finn earned enough to live on his own—no parents or curtain dividers or leering Wentworths. It was a tiny place, with just enough room for a narrow bed, a washbasin, and a cage for Ludd. The crow was sleeping now.
I stared at what he’d done to the place. Finn had hung every inch with vibrant paintings, a wild riot of colors. And my breath caught as I saw two new ones, oval shaped and framed by painted gold. One was me, my dark eyes sparkling. The other was Alice, dressed in green. Apart from our black eyebrows, we were as different as could be—my hair dark, hers pale as flax. My skin tan, hers peaches and cream.
But he’d painted our expressions to look alike: mischievous smirks.
His skill with a brush was so breathtaking, they nearly looked like color photographs. In fact, I was so shocked at seeing Alice’s face alive again before me, I nearly forgot about the briefcase. My heart started pounding again when I looked down at what I was holding.
Better put that down. As gently as possible, I lowered it to the floor, then slid it across the room.
As I stepped back across the floorboards, one of them sounded hollow. I crouched down, frowning at a board that was slightly raised. Slowly, I lifted it up, shocked to find a gun hidden beneath it. Wow, Finn. Seemed one of my childhood friends had a bit of a dark side.
I lowered the board again.
Sighing, I crawled onto Finn’s bed and picked up his sketchbook. When I opened it, I found an exquisite drawing of a sparrow.
I went through one page after another, trying to block out the terror under the surface.
Because in only a few hours, I would be undertaking the most dangerous stealth mission of my life. I was putting all my superstitious faith in the ghosts of Dovren’s murdered wolves, and a dead Raven King.
Perhaps I had completely lost my mind.
42
Lila
I stood in the shadows at the base of the tower, my body vibrating with anticipation.
One thing I hadn’t considered when I was planning with Finn was that I’d be scaling the fortress walls with the briefcase, and I needed two hands to scale the wall. It wasn’t until I was just about to leave Finn’s apartment that I realized the problem this posed.
Before leaving, I’d rummaged around the flat until I found something I could use—one of Finn’s leather belts. I poked an extra hole through the leather so that I could strap the case to me as tight as possible.
In the shadows, I pressed the briefcase against my chest, my heart stuttering. What if I pulled it too