Secrets and Skin

Chapter 24

The meeting place is McQueen Park. It isn't your typical children's park with rundown pieces of play equipment, but the expansive touristy kind filled with trees and twisting paths.

Beyond an iron archway marking the main entrance is a wide, concrete thoroughfare surrounded by ornate gardens overflowing with chrysanthemums, marigolds and decorative grasses. It is sunny and mild for the end of September; there are plenty of people milling around, but not as many as there would have been a month or two ago. I wander the concrete paths, letting my gaze drift nonchalantly over the faces of passing strangers. Caelen disappeared from my sight long ago, but I trust that he is not far behind.

You should be scared, I remind myself, but instead I feel a strange sense of excitement. It is akin to the anticipation at the height of a roller coaster ride. Like the first time I stood in front of a real microphone. Hell, every time I stood in front of a microphone. There's a grave awareness that messing up will have enormous consequences, but still... if I succeed... I could change lives.

A harsh caw easily breaks through the din of children's laughter and barking dogs. I squint my eyes against the sun and spot the source: a large crow perched on a branch at the top of a pine tree to my left. I put my hands in my pockets, walking towards it at a pace brisk enough to appease my nerves, but slow enough to still look leisurely. No one can see that my muscles are tensed, like a compressed spring, ready to react to whatever is waiting for me. That misplaced sense of exhilaration washes over me once again.

Before I reach the tree, the bird flits away to another, further away. I turn onto a narrower concrete path and follow it. Whenever I almost reach the tree where it rests, it retreats to another. This continues for nearly a quarter of an hour and I begin to doubt whether this is the right bird. The idea that I could be wandering around following the wrong crow is so absurd that I actually have to stop myself from laughing out loud. I guess I am a little nervous.

"Sharing in some private joke, Miss Kondo?" a stern and slightly accented voice asks from behind me.

I turn quickly, taking on a defensive stance in case she is unexpectedly hostile. It's been a long time since I took any self-defence courses, but I still remember the basics.

A small woman, likely in her thirties, stands behind me. Her hair is short and shaved at the sides. She's wearing a long sleeve black shirt with a silver scarf and a short grey skirt. Her boots are tall and have a decent heel. I can see the hint of a tattoo above her scarf and her ears are heavily pierced. She's incredibly petite, but the expression from her dark eyes is as sharp as steel.

"Are you the person I'm supposed to meet?" I ask, trying to feel as intense and confident as she looks.

She immediately turns and continues walking past me up the path. I stand and stare after her for a moment before jogging to catch up. It may have seemed rude, but I know that turning your back to someone is a gesture of trust. At least I'm fairly certain it is.

"I'm guessing you know me pretty well," I begin as I walk beside her, "having watched me for over two weeks. Can I at least have your name?"

She keeps walking on in silence. Okay, so is this some sort of a test or is she always this socially defunct?

"You might as well tell me," I say as casually as I can; I don't want it to sound like a threat, "If I wanted to sell you out I already know your family, your appearance, and your power. I'm not going to pretend like I'm experienced at this whole negotiating thing but I do think it would be a lot easier if I could at least call you by your name."