Angelfall (Penryn & the End of Days #1)(66)

When Dee-Dum returns, he brings a servant’s uniform and a large bar of milk chocolate with hazelnuts. I change into the black and white outfit as fast as I can. I’m grateful to see that the shoes are practical, soft-soled flats made for waitresses who are on their feet all day. Shoes I can run in. Things are looking up.

When Dee-Dum takes out his pad of paper, I tell him the angels can’t hear us. He gives me a skeptical look even after I reassure him. He’s finally startled into speaking when I pick up Raffe’s sword.

“What the hell is that?” His voice is low but at least he’s talking. Dee-Dum stares at the sword as I strap the scabbard onto my back.

“Dangerous times, Dee-Dum. Every girl should have a blade on her.” I have to strap it upside-down and at an angle so that it fits my back without the hilt sticking out through my hair.

“That looks like an angel’s sword.”

“Obviously not, otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to lift it, right?”

He nods. “True.”

There’s too much conviction in his voice for a man who’s never tried lifting one for himself. My guess is that he’s tried it several times.

I test the leather thumb strap around the guard to make sure I can unlatch it easily to draw the sword one-handed.

He’s still looking at me a little suspiciously, like he knows I’m lying about something but can’t put his finger on what. “Well, I guess it’s quieter than a gun. But where’d you find a thing like that?”

“In a house. The owner was probably a collector.”

I throw on the short jacket that goes with the uniform. It’s a little big for me so it hangs over the upside-down sword nicely. It doesn’t quite cover the sword’s pommel, but it’ll pass a casual inspection. My back doesn’t entirely look natural but close enough. My long hair hides some of the unnatural line.

Dee-Dum clearly wants to interrogate me about the sword, but can’t seem to think of the right questions. I gesture for him to lead the way.

~

The hardest thing to remember as I walk through the party crowd in the lobby is to behave normally. I’m hyper-conscious of the sword pommel gently bouncing off my hip as I walk. I keep wanting to slink into the shadows and disappear. But in the servants’ uniforms, we are invisible so long as we behave as expected.

The only ones who seem to remotely notice us are other servants. Fortunately, they have no time or energy to really take note of us. The party is really in full swing now, and the servants are practically running to keep up with their work.

The only person who looks closely at me is the night clerk who checked us in. I have a bad moment when his eyes lock onto mine and I see the light of recognition. He glances at Dee-Dum. They exchange a look. Then the clerk goes back to his paperwork as if he saw nothing unusual.

“Wait here,” says Dee-Dum and leaves me in the shadows while he walks to the desk clerk.

I wonder how many resistance members have infiltrated the aerie?

They talk briefly, then Dee-Dum heads toward the entrance, waving for me to follow. His pace has picked up, his walk more urgent than before.

I’m a little surprised when Dee-Dum takes us out of the building. The crowd waiting outside has swelled and the guards are too busy to notice us.

I’m even more surprised when he leads us around the building and into a dark alley. I’m half-running to keep up.

“What’s going on?” I whisper.

“Plans have changed. We have almost no time. I’ll show you where to go, then I have things I need to do.”

No time.

I trot after him in silence, trying to stay calm.

For the first time, I’m unable to control the doubts eating away at me. Can I find Paige in time? How will I ever manage to get her out of here on my own without a wheelchair? I can carry her on my back, piggyback style, but I won’t be able to run or fight like that. We’ll just be a big, clumsy target in a shooting gallery.

And what about Raffe?

To our right, there’s a gated driveway down to the underground garage of the aerie. Dee-Dum leads us towards it.

I’m acutely aware that we are unarmed humans on the street at night. I feel even more vulnerable when I catch a glimpse of watching eyes along the alley where dark lumps of people lie huddled out of the wind. Nothing about those eyes strikes me as preternatural, but I’m no expert.

“Why didn’t we just go down from the lobby?” I ask.

“Someone’s always watching those stairs. You have a much better chance of getting in through this back way.”

Beside the gated driveway is a metal door that leads into the garage. Dee-Dum hauls out an impressive ring of keys. He flips through the keys and hurriedly tries a few.

“You don’t know which one it is? And here, I thought you were the prepared type.”

“I am,” he says with a mischievous grin. “But these aren’t my keys.”

“You really have to teach me that pickpocketing trick sometime.”

He glances up to reply, but his face morphs into a troubled expression. I turn to see what he’s seeing.

Shadows slip out of the dark alley, approaching us.

Dee-Dum moves out of his corner and loosens into a fighter’s stance, the way a wrestler might get ready for impact. I’m still trying to decide whether to run or fight when four men surround us.