Chapter Twenty: Blossoms of the Blade

“Dunn, may I borrow the dagger for a moment?” Lily put on a look of keen interest.

“Of course, my dear Miss Lily.”

Dunn answered with a smile, carefully rotating the dagger in his hand before offering her the handle.

“You truly are a fine gentleman, Dunn,” Lily praised with a bright smile, taking the dagger from him.

The moment the dagger settled in her hand, Lily felt her wrist sink under its weight. But it was no wonder—she was, after all, just fifteen, her strength and grip far from matching those of boys her age. Ordinarily, it would be difficult for Lily to wield such an ancient dagger with any finesse.

After examining the dagger closely, Lily paused for a couple of seconds. Dunn, thinking she was struggling with the weight, was about to reach out and take it back.

Unexpectedly, Lily suddenly flicked the dagger with a swift, graceful flourish, the blade spinning through her fingers as if it weighed nothing at all.

Even with all his wits, Dunn could only gape in astonishment. Camille had already gone off searching for the others and missed the scene—otherwise she would surely have fired off three rapid questions: What happened? How did you do that? Lily, are you alright? Camille always worried that Lily might cut her own fingers.

But don’t mistake Camille for some clumsy brute—on the contrary, she was perhaps the most caring member of their rescue team.

Lily tried a few more moves with the dagger—each one, to Dunn’s eyes, more difficult than the last. Finally, after tossing the blade high and catching it smoothly, she reluctantly handed it back.

She really did like the dagger, but since Dunn had found it first, she couldn’t just claim it for herself. She could tell Dunn liked it too—boys and their treasures, Lily understood.

Though perhaps John was an exception?

Dunn looked at the dagger Lily returned and, with a twitch of his lips, turned and hurried after Camille.

Why would I want the dagger now? Just to cut myself and have Lily laugh at me? Forget it, I don’t need it after all.

Watching Dunn’s retreating back, Lily blinked in surprise, then called out a thank you. She understood—this was Dunn’s way of giving her the dagger; perhaps, in his own way, he was making up for forgetting her birthday.

Just as she thought this, Dunn, already halfway down the road, stopped and turned, calling out “Happy birthday!” to her, making Lily laugh. How did this boy know exactly what she was thinking?

Spinning the dagger in her hand once more, Lily carefully pulled a scrap of cloth from her backpack, wrapped the blade, and tucked it into her belt.

The almost negligible guard of the dagger came into its own, hooking neatly onto her belt in a way that amazed her. Did the maker of this dagger know about modern belt designs?

She quickly caught up with Dunn and Camille and learned that the others had already crossed to the far side of the railway via a safe passage Aiden had discovered. Dunn had stayed behind to wait for them, which came as a relief—now they wouldn’t have to detour back across the Waterloo Bridge by the Southbank Theatre.

Aiden had found a cable car wedged in the crack of the railway bridge, and since it was still tethered by steel cables to the Ferris wheel, they could easily climb atop it and use the Ferris wheel’s frame to move across to the other side. Watching Camille haul herself over the gap, however, Lily couldn’t help but worry for her—she really was a big girl.

The team regrouped. Lily showed everyone the rope and pistol ammunition she and Camille had found, and handed the Glock pistol back to Aiden, along with the new box of ammo.

Aiden looked over the box, checked the caliber, peered inside, and couldn’t hide his delight.

John had brought home the Glock as spoils from one of his “scavenger patrols,” but, being so scatterbrained, he’d paid no mind to the need for matching ammunition. Since then, despite more scavenging, John had never managed to find any pistol rounds, so the gun had been left with only five bullets. Aiden had fired one off in a test, leaving just four.

The ammo Lily and Camille had found turned out to be the right 9mm rounds for the Glock, and there were at least a dozen—more than enough to boost the team’s safety during their search and rescue.

“I’ve found a few other things, and by the way, Camille is in on the secret now too,” Lily murmured to Aiden, before raising her voice to the group and asking if everyone was ready. If there were no issues, they’d set out in five minutes. By deliberately separating Aiden from the others, Lily gave him a chance to load the Glock.

Once Aiden gave her a discreet signal, Lily stopped blocking him and naturally fell in with the rest, forming a loose exploration formation as they headed for the far side of the railway bridge.

What Lily and the others didn’t see was that, high atop the bridge, crows had begun to gather on the suspension cables that kept the bridge from collapsing. Strangely, these crows were eerily silent, in stark contrast to those elsewhere in the city. All of them had a single eye fixed on the depths of the mist below the bridge.

If someone were standing up there, looking out, the dense fog would limit their vision to just twenty-four meters—utterly impenetrable. But if you could extend a line from their gaze, it would land precisely at the spot where Dunn had handed the dagger to Lily.

The occasional slap of waves from the Thames and the damp wind across the water reminded the group that they were now halfway across the river, still at least a hundred meters from the far bank.

“Lily, what color was the Thames before the fog came?” Stephenson asked, gazing at the scenery on either side of the bridge.

“…Sorry to say, but it seems it was gray even then,” Lily replied after a moment’s thought.

“What?” Stephenson could hardly believe his ears.

If Lily had said blue, green, even red, Stephenson wouldn’t have been surprised—why gray, of all colors?

“It’s because our city has another name—The Smoke,” Dunn added, saving Lily the trouble of explaining.