Lewis parks's Arc

Chapter 5 of 7

They left the docks before the sun was full up. Ember kept the folded paper in her fist. They crossed the canal by the low footbridge and followed a wall of pale stone until the houses changed. The walls here were not stone. They were glass cut into faces, each panel throwing back a slice of the road. Lewis stopped at the corner. The house on the paper sat alone at the end of a short lane. Crystal walls. A peaked roof that flashed like a knife. No cover. No alley. Anyone inside could watch the lane in every direction at once. "We can't walk up," Lewis said. "He'll see us a block off." Ember crouched and looked at the ground. "Night's out. Old man said no." Lewis tried to think of a screen they could carry, a mirror trick, anything. Every idea ended with two kids standing in plain sight on a bright lane. If they showed themselves, the man would grab them before Lewis got one question out. A boot scraped behind them. Lewis turned fast. A man in a purple cloak stood at the mouth of the lane, a black crow on his glove. His hair was parted, with a gray streak burned through it. "Lewis Parks," he said. "Ember." He did not move closer. "My bird has watched you for three days. You're standing in front of a house you can't enter. I can help with that. Later." He tipped his head and walked on past them, calm, like the lane belonged to him. Before Lewis could speak, a side door in the next building banged open. An old man pushed out, gray hair up in spikes, goggles on his forehead, an apron full of wrenches. He looked at the cloaked man's back, then at the two of them. "Grit Thornwick," he said. "Inventor. That fella's Sedrick Great. Bad news, both ways. You're fixing to get snatched standing here." He jerked a thumb at his door. "In. Now." Lewis looked at Ember. Ember looked at the crystal house, then at the open door. She nodded once. They ducked inside. The room was full of half-built things and scorch marks up the walls. In the corner sat a wide machine with cloth wings folded back. "Flying machine," Grit said. "Blown up twice. Works on the third, I figure." He pointed at a high window that faced the crystal house. "You want a look at that place without being seen, you go over it, not at it. I need a second pair of hands to finish. You bring the hands, I bring the wings." Lewis felt the plan click into place. He had come for a name and an address. He was leaving with a way in from above, a workshop that wasn't a canopy, and the name of the man who had been watching them. He shook Grit's hand. The lane outside stayed empty. For now.