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from one to the other, waiting to hear about whatever had made Loryn angry. Naro mumbled, “Sorry.” Loryn huffed, then saw Kinsman’s inquiring look and explained, “He pushed me. I was trying to get up and into the room, and he pushed me back.” Naro’s voice was almost a whine, “I was trying to push against the door – so I could get in quick. But it was Loryn that I ended up pushing.” He faced Loryn again and spoke earnestly, “Sorry.” Then he pointed at the body of the man nearest the door and blurted, “But that guy was starting to come away from the wall and I pulled the chair out from under him as I passed him – to give you more time. Doesn’t that count for something?” Kinsman was already turning away. This was not something he needed to get involved with. He told Spen, “Nice work. Good knife placement. Slicing the lung and piercing the heart. Mister Skran’s teaching? Or Utsef’s?” Spen thought for just a moment and replied, “Both, I suppose. Mister Skran taught it, Utsef taught me ‘why’.” Kinsman glanced around the bigger room and pointed Loryn back to the door, “Let everyone outside know that we’re done in here.” Then he told Spen and Naro, “No more than a few minutes. Look around. Dump any drugs. Save the glassware, chemicals and components. We’ll come back for it later. Miss Camilla can decide what she wants to keep.” He looked around near him and added, “Oh! And save any papers. We’ll collect them later as well.” It took longer to identify the drugs and dump them out than it did to separate the glassware but in less than ten minutes, they were back outside in the rain and walking north, their bows over their shoulders.

They paused before reaching the Bridges, just long enough to report to the Wharfsiders posted there. Rukle shouted to one of them, “We’re done south of the river. Move your people north. We’re going to the warehouses now, starting from the west and working our way east. Just like Kinsman explained it.” The Wharfsider nodded vigorously, “I’ll get word to the boats so they know to move.” The man paused and added, “Does it seem to be getting worse out here?” Rain was streaming down the man’s hood. The windblown water obscuring the man’s features even more than the darkness could have. Rukle raised his hands in an exaggerated shrug and answered, “Doesn’t matter. We’re not stopping now.”

As they stepped onto the North Bridge, three men of the City Watch positioned themselves as if to block their passage. The Guild members fanned out as Kinsman stepped forward. One of the guards shouted, “We’re not supposed to let you people pass. In fact, we’ve got standing orders to arrest you, or kill you if you resist.” Cooper glanced behind him to verify how everyone was positioned then slowly reached across to his left hip to draw a pouch from his belt. He displayed the pouch and stepped forward to take the hand of the guard who’d spoken, placed the pouch in the man's hand and closed his fingers around it. Kinsman leaned closer to speak, but called out loud enough for the other two to hear him, “Believe it or not, we’re working for the city tonight, with the Prince’s blessing. There’s more than thirty silver coins in that pouch. There’ll also be a dozens of bodies on the ground and in the bay by morning. You’ll either accept my word and the coin, or we’ll dump you off the bridge. I'd imagine it's nearly impossible to swim in all that armor.  We’re crossing this bridge.” Kinsman stepped away to give the men time to consider. Rukle took a step forward, clenching and relaxing his fists. The guards stepped aside.

The closest warehouse was well south of the Ruins, on the Waterfront side of the boundary with Batter’s Field. This warehouse was leased recently and would’ve likely been overlooked had it not been for some information provided by several neighborhood House kids. Locals help each other put their houses back together every time a storm blows through. With that kind of neighborly bond, newcomers to an area get scrutinized closely. This warehouse was evidence of the futile intent to expand the drug trade westward. Folks in Batter’s Field didn’t have the coin to spend on Apex. They barely had coin enough for food or booze. Despite the tendency for many of them to purchase the latter rather than the former, there still was no coin remaining afterward. There had been rumors of Apex actually being given away near this warehouse, in an attempt to create customers. It had been these rumors, along with the location of the warehouse, that had been passed along to the Guild. Apparently they hadn’t been the only ones to hear the rumors. Several addicts had migrated from the Waterfront boardwalk in search of Apex.

By the time the small group from Guild closed in around the long, single-story structure, four addicts were left behind them, whimpering, bleeding out, as they lay in the dark recesses where they’d been deposited.

The building was wide enough to allow two wagons side by side within it, but only if there weren’t any boxes or crates lining the walls. Rukle waved Kinsman to him and asked, “Where’s Spen?” He turned and looked for him. Loryn had been close enough to hear and she pointed to the roof of a nearby building. In the rain, it was nearly impossible to see the young man. He gave a brief wave, then climbed down to join them.

Spen reported, “It’s difficult to tell, but it doesn’t look like there's any roof access. Just the normal doors on the north and south ends, and the main cargo door on the east side.” Naro shook his head, “I don’t like it. The moment we open a door, everyone inside is gonna know

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