Chapter 39 - Leavi

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I lean through the closet doorway, peering over Sean's shoulder as he mixes lye and water in a wooden bucket

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I lean through the closet doorway, peering over Sean's shoulder as he mixes lye and water in a wooden bucket. Around us, the quiet dark of the house presses in as though to remind us we're not supposed to be here.

"Are you planning on scrubbing the guards to death?" I ask, trying to hide the tremor in my voice.

"No," he clips. "You asked for a distraction. Here it is." He stands, snatching something from the shelves around us, then crouches back down to pour it into the bucket.

"What's that?"

"Do you want the explanation or the result, Leavi? Quiet, and let me work." He stands, scanning the shelves, and grabs something else to add to his mix. From his trenchcoat, he pulls out what looks like a normal timepiece. He clicks it open, revealing not a watch face, but black-powder. A pinch goes into the bucket, and he snaps his metal container closed, tucking it back in his pocket.

The mixture bubbles ominously.

Sean jams the bucket's lid down into it, sealing it shut. "Ready to run?"

"What?" I exclaim.

Standing, he grabs my hand and takes off. I let him lead me, and we fly through the corridors. Only a few hallways away, a booming crack-THUD reverberates through the building. The vibration pulses through the floor.

I stare slack-jawed at Sean. "That was you?"

He nods, putting a finger to his lips. "You think you can get us back to your charity case's cell?" he whispers.

Recovering, I dig my half-map out of my pocket. "Yeah. I think so."

"Let's go then. The back way. Hopefully, those guards will be headed here."

We wind through hallways, in and out of darkness and light. Making it back to the hall the boy's cell is on, I gesture for Sean to stay, and I edge along the wall. Heart in mouth, I peek around the corner.

Empty.

I wave at Sean, and we hurry to the boy's door. Sean unlocks it with the master copy while I pull the bar off. The door swings open.

The boy is sitting, leaned weakly against the wall, hair mussed, face gaunt, dirt caked to his skin and clothes. His eyes barely flutter open as we come in.

"You're here," he murmurs, voice slurred as though in a haze.

My heart twists. "Yes," I assure him. "We're here." My eyes dart around the dark, dirty room he's been held in for skies know how long now. "Everything's going to be okay."

I snag the key from the lock. "Careful," Sean hisses. "It's brittle."

Together, we pick the boy up and hurry out of the room, not even bothering to close the door. The limp body between us is even lighter than I expected. His bones press into my arms, making me think more of a corpse than a living boy. The air smells like smoke. Feet scuff the ground, and our shadows shift wildly on the walls, like ghosts scurrying to chase us. We turn onto the principal hallway, shouts echoing from further in the building, closer to Sean's bomb.

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