Penny Buttonwick's Arc

Chapter 7 of 7

Dawn came gray and quiet. Penny eased the bolt back and cracked the door. Her fourth recruit stood on the step, smaller than she remembered, holding a sealed letter with a red wax flower pressed into it. Behind her, the blackberry bush by the path threw a second shadow — winged, still, watching. The watcher had walked her in. Penny took the letter. The new terms were short: the fourth name stayed hers, but only if Penny gave up the fugitive in the cellar by nightfall. The recruit's voice shook. "He found me first. I had no choice." Penny looked past her to the old bench near the door, its wood gouged with deep claw marks, moss creeping up the legs. A good place for a long talk. She was not going to have one. "Sit," Penny said. The recruit sat. Penny stepped onto the path, lifted the heart-shaped button from her pocket, and set it on the bench between them. "You keep your name on my roll. I keep the fugitive. And you walk back to the bush and tell the shadow that the exchange opens at noon, with or without him." The recruit stared. Then she nodded, once, and went. Penny watched the winged shadow shift, then slip away through the brambles. She closed the door and slid the bolt. Four names. One cellar still locked. One enemy now on a clock. The exchange would open today — early, loud, and entirely on her terms.