Spellhacke- M. K. England Page 0,25

is never far from our minds, inescapable in this city.

“How long until Remi’s done at the clinic?” I ask, subdued.

His stare goes distant, as it does when he consults his lenses. “About two and a half hours.”

I nod. Not much time. But enough, maybe. “Guess we should get to work, then.”

We fall silent and make our way, side by side rather than chasing each other, toward our potential pipeline. First up, though: the bakery. We can’t afford it often, but they know us well enough there that it’s never suspicious for us to be hanging around. Good excuse to be in the neighborhood. And to shove pastries in my face.

As we approach Ginny’s Boisterous Baking (a name I thoroughly approve of), the rich scents of sugar and warm bread overtake the neighborhood’s smell of dust, chems, and metal. It figures Ginny’s hard at work when everyone else is shut down. I have no idea why she set up shop in this part of town, but all the factory workers adore her and her creations, lining up around the block for breakfast and lunch. Actually, maybe Ginny (age forty-one, widow, secretly wealthy, beloved fanfiction author) is a genius after all. Everyone loves a little spot of brightness in the middle of the bleak.

We wander in, Jaesin first because he comes here a lot more often and she knows him better. Ginny thinks he’s “just so pretty,” and he loves the attention. His hair always manages to land in the perfect intersection of proper professional and casual handsome bedhead, and Ginny never can keep her hands off it. Ginny claps her hands in delight when she spots us, sending a cloud of flour billowing into the air. “It has been far too long! Where’ve you been, young man?”

Jaesin rubs the back of his neck and grins. “Busy times, you know. We all graduated, so we’ve been making plans and getting things ready. That’s part of why we’re here.”

He pauses for dramatic effect, cutting his gaze away with something like shyness.

“Remi and I are moving. To Jattapore. We’re leaving in six days.”

It’s only when Ginny’s face crumples with fond emotion that I realize it really is part of the reason we’re here. Jaesin wants to say goodbye. My throat goes thick as Ginny bustles around the counter and wraps Jaesin in a floury hug, heedless of the handprints she leaves on his black T-shirt.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so happy for you. Get out of this city while you can. It’s not nearly as bad in cities where they didn’t lose so many to the plague. You’ll do great.”

A shadow passes over her face, as it always does when something brings the memory of her late wife to mind, but she forces a smile and pushes on. “And how is Remi? They’re still so young, they should have a few years before the illness really starts progressing, right?”

Jaesin nods. “The doctors always say they’re one of the strongest patients they have. Remi’s totally on point with their exercise, eating, treatments, all that. It used to be that surviving plague patients started to decline around nineteen, but now it’s more like twenty-two or twenty-three. Remi’s hoping if they can keep up with the doctor’s recommendations, MMC’s research will turn up something before—”

And that’s when I tune out. I just can’t.

I turn to the case beside the pay terminal, with sweet and savory goods laid out in neat labeled rows, though she’s baked less than usual due to the lack of crowds. Buns sticky with thick white icing, tarts piled high with berries, slices of pie with candied nuts, savory mini quiches with mushrooms and greens. It smells heavenly. I can still recall the exact taste and flaky texture of the almond tart I had here last time. But even with the pity discount she normally gives us, I can’t justify the cost. Maybe after we pull this job and get paid the full amount.

“And what about you, little cactus? You’re back early. I only saw you two months ago,” Ginny says, raising her voice to draw me back into the conversation. “Are you off to Jattapore as well, then?”

I glower at the pastries. I hate that nickname so. Very. Much. Almost as much as the assumption that I’ll be trotting after Jaesin and Remi like a loyal puppy.

“I’ve got plans of my own.”

“Well, don’t be coy,” she says. “What are you doing? Putting those computer smarts to use?”

She just can’t take a hint, can she?

“I’m staying