I HAD TO take one of the emergency skiffs the hospital kept in storage to reach Northface Harbor. Nessie rowed for me; it was fortunate she never tired. We left before dawn, when the night sky was just turning pale blue and there was less chance of being seen.
Blackdocks was surprisingly empty. There were, of course, still dock workers around, but they moved with the determined focus of men and women who were doing more than just their own job. While a few people noticed me as I disembarked with Nessie, taking in my white hair and mumbling near-silent curses as they backed away, most people were so intent that they barely spared me a passing glance. I pulled the hood of the cloak I’d gotten from the hospital over my white hair and made sure Nessie was similarly covered, then strode through the factory district undisturbed.
My stomach unclenched—I had expected to have to fight my way into the city. My nerves were on edge, but my body didn’t know what to do with passivity.
During the plague, the Whitesides hospital had been full to the brim with victims near death. I had seen the carts of infected people dropped off at the overflowing hospital, and I had witnessed the corpse cart that left just as full.
But the plague was over. The hospital was still operating, but I could not go into the rooms of the sick without being detected. The building wasn’t overrun or understaffed, not like it had been a month ago.
I cursed. I needed people who were freshly dead, with more vibrant energy I could channel into my sister. But short of going on a murder spree . . .
Someone bumped into me, almost knocking me down.
“Sorry, miss,” the man said. He tipped his hat at me, not even really looking my way before turning and rushing down the street.
I frowned. It was a workday, but the streets were almost entirely empty.
Where was everyone?
“Excuse me!” I shouted, running to catch up with the man. He slowed but did not stop. “Where are you going?” I asked.
He laughed. “To the Imperial Gardens, of course,” he said.
“Of course,” I repeated slowly.
He hurried on, and I followed, remembering the way to the Imperial Gardens thanks to Grey.
The closer I got, the more people appeared. Some moved quicker than others, but all headed in the general direction of the vast public park bestowed upon Northface Harbor by Emperor Aurellious.
I wrapped my hand in Nessie’s, determined not to lose her in the growing crowd. All around me were people of all different social classes. Gowned women walked beside factory workers. Orphans with amputations from the plague played with schoolboys and schoolgirls dressed in uniforms from the elite private academies. Everyone seemed . . . happy. Food vendors called out wares, clusters of people sang cheery folk tunes, and a man nearby tuned his fiddle as another invited any passing person, male or female, to dance a jig with him.
The energy reminded me of the docks at Miraband, except more joyful.
But there was no holy day today. No festival or memorial. I opened my mouth, ready to stop someone nearby and ask what the cause of the celebration was, when I saw it.
At the far end of the gardens, a large, long gallows stood, holding thirteen empty nooses.
I stopped in my tracks. Lunar Island hadn’t had a public execution since Bennum Wellebourne.
But then another thought seized me. “Come on,” I whispered to Nessie, pulling her along faster behind me.
I had no idea who was going to be hung today, but I knew I wasn’t likely to find thirteen fresher souls to take than these.