he knows … I got debts,” Kreel finished, sipping his drink while narrowly eyeing Caine from over the rim of his tankard. “When I figured out Thaddeus was up to something, I saw my chance.”
Caine pushed out from the table in disgust. “And I thought my family had issues.”
Kreel, pulled his toothpick out and pointed it at Caine. “Make sure the body is found. If he goes missing, it complicates matter with the lawyers.”
Turning to go, Caine didn’t bother to look back at the man.
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”
Caine cleared the summit of the rooftops with well-timed jumps. Below, his passage went unseen by the citizens of Merywyn. It gave him a rare déjà vu. He thought back to days gone by in Bainsmarket. From such heights, he had been in control of the world, free to prey upon his marks, whoever they might be. Then, as now perhaps. The night sky had begun to clear, and with it a cool breeze from the west. Unsettled though he was, he couldn’t deny it felt good to be running high once more.
Along the flat roof of a warehouse he made his way, gaining speed. With a tuck and roll, he blinked out of existence, to reappear over the open air of the chasm between buildings. His momentum carried with him, and his roll brought him over the buttress of a Morrowan cathedral. He landed like a cat on a solitary gargoyle.
He paused to crouch upon the sculpture, peering at the streets some five stories down. He consulted the scrap of paper Kreel had given him. He saw the steady bustle of the main street below, lined with horse drawn carriages and countless pedestrians going to and fro under gaslight, even at this late hour. At the end of the street, he watched a covered carriage approach. On the sides of its canvas covering, a name had been written with stenciled black paint. The same name that had been written on his scrap. Next to it was the icon of a milk bottle.
“Where are you delivering at this late hour I wonder?” Caine smiled.
In an instant, he had flashed away from his perch, to reappear on the eaves of the cathedral a short distance away. He began running to keep pace with the cart as it advanced the length of the avenue.
At the corner of the cathedral, he easily hopped the gap to the next building a few feet away. His feet rapped along the row of copper roofed townhouses, and he kept an eye on the cart as he went. He saw it near an alley, then slow down. He was soon close enough to hear the driver’s coarse voice call his horse to a stop.
From the alley, he saw shadows moving. They stepped out into the gaslight for a moment, three large men, as near as he could tell. Just as quickly as they had appeared, they piled into the back of the milk carriage, before the driver spurred his horse on. Caine had seen the glint of a pistol stuffed in the jacket of one of them. He scoffed to think what milkmen needed weapons for. He watched the carriage move off, turning right at the next intersection, and into a maze of warehouses. Beyond that were numerous buildings lined with great smokestacks and twisted scaffolding. He lunged forward, on the move again.
He leapt, sliding down the slant of a rooftop to keep pace with the carriage. Arriving at the lip of the roof, he leapt for a drainpipe and used it to slide down a story, and onto a lower roof. He leapt clear at the last second, setting down in a crouch, his heart now racing with the fast pace he’d kept. Just in time, he saw the wagon disappear into an old factory, some five stories high. The sprawling structure was crowned with three massive smokestacks and numerous conveyor lines. On the rooftops, he could faintly make out shadows moving.
The dairy plant.
By all appearances, Kreel’s information had been good. There was no question there was a gathering happening within, at an hour no one had any legitimate business afoot. Caine withdrew his Spellstorms from under his cloak. He cracked them open with a flick of the wrist, checking each one with a spin of the chambers before flicking them closed once again.
Caine was among them now. He could hear their loose talk on all sides, and he slinked down as he stepped lightly ahead. The