Once the guards on the Cityside bridge had searched us for weapons and taken the money I offered, they told us to hotfoot it indoors before the second siren, and that was that. We took off. It was dark by the time we arrived in a rundown street at the back of Bethun, close to the heath. No light shone in any window. I tapped on a door, and after a nerve-racking minute it was opened by a tall woman with a lined face, white hair and dark brown eyes. I said, ‘Are you Anna? Tasia Levkova sent us. I’m Nik Stais. This is Raffael.’ She studied my face and a smile bloomed on hers. ‘Nik Stais,’ she said, nodding. ‘Yes. Yes, you are. Come in.’ She closed out the night. ‘This way!’ She led us down the unlit hallway and opened a door with a flourish and a cry of ‘Good news! Look who’s here!’ We walked in to a candlelit room crowded with antique furniture, paintings on the walls and a piano in one corner with sheet music strewn over it.
