Jin's heart skipped a beat and she stared at the miniature woman. "What do you mean?"
"We heard them talking. They're hunting down the sensitives. They'll find you."
A spirit with the face of a dog, the body of a man, and the tail of a monkey pressed through the crowd carrying Jin's hat. He handed it up to her.
"Thank you," she said.
The spirit yipped and turned in a circle, chasing its tail.
Jin shoved the cap back onto her head, once again tucking her hair underneath.
Liu reached up and laid a dainty hand on Jin's foot. "I can give you little help, but this-they smelled of the river."
"All right," Jin said. "I'll lock the door on my way out. Hopefully it will help to keep you safe."
"Just bring Auntie back to us," Liu said.
The sea of spirits parted, leaving a clear path of concrete to the stairs.
Jin stepped down from the box, took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, forcing herself to ignore her throbbing headache. She strode towards the door.
"Good luck," Liu called out. "Bring her home."
Outside the false wall, the market went on as if everything in the world hadn't just changed. The noodle-seller shouted his wares, but the last thing Jin could think of was food, no matter that it had been hours since the nutrition bars she'd shared with Yao at dinner-time. Setting one foot in front of the other, she followed the sounds of the river.
The jade lion lay quiescent in her pocket, but she couldn't forget the image of it standing so proudly against the intruder, its muscles flexing beneath its pale pelt, nor the sense of comfort she felt when she once again held it in her hand. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to have, after all. If she hadn't stolen it, she wouldn't have gone to Auntie's shop. Whatever that thing was would have done whatever it came to do, and Jin couldn't believe it had good intentions. Was it chance that brought the lion to her attention, or was she meant to find it?
Her mind whirled. These weren't the sorts of thoughts she was used to. She was a simple cannery girl. Her brother was the smart one, the one destined to make a mark on the world. How could she entertain the idea that something as powerful as the guardian wanted her enough to put itself in her path?
She reached into her pocket and ran her fingers over the cool jade. The same reassuring presence blanketed her as she'd felt back in Auntie Bai Wei's shop.
The market thinned when she drew close to the river. A few merchants catered to the dock workers, but most stayed closer to the apartment buildings and shops back towards the OldTown's center. Jin kept her face hidden behind her collar, head down. They smelled of the river, Liu had said. It wasn't much to go on. The river wound through the center of the city, kilometers long, and she might have to search both banks, although she'd never crossed to the far side, where the tech-runners' sleek, glistening towers speared the skyline.
Keeping to the shadows, Jin slunk to the river's edge. A reeking miasma hung over it like fog. The stinking refuse that clogged the water's edge, and the persistent odor of sweat from the dockhands who worked day and night loading and unloading cargo mingled with a stale hint of urine from along the base of the nearest building. Jin took a step away, still clinging to the shadows.
Downstream, electric lights blazed at a slip where a barge crammed to overflowing with crates sat at anchor. Men swarmed like ants, boxes balanced on heads or cradled in muscular arms.
Jin closed her eyes. She needed a plan. Wandering aimlessly along the riverbank would do nothing but give her blisters, and maybe get her arrested for trespassing into freight company property. There had to be some way to narrow the search.
She reached into her pocket and grasped the jade lion. It throbbed with heat.
"All right." Jin took a steadying breath. "Can you help me find Auntie Bai Wei?"
Two pulses.
Fine. If trusting a spirit was the only way to find her friend, that was what she'd do. What would Yao think if she ever told him? His head was so filled with facts and theorems, he'd probably laugh and say she was as superstitious as the rest of the OldTown folk.
"Let's try this," Jin said. "I'm going to turn in a circle. When I'm pointing the right way, give me a sign."
She held the figurine in front of her, then slowly pirouetted until a flash of warmth stopped her. Peering into the darkness along the upstream path down which she was pointed, Jin swallowed hard. No light, but the dim glow from the freight slip and the glimmering towers on the opposite bank. So be it.
After following the lion's compass for what felt like hours, Jin stopped at the base of an abandoned warehouse and stared at what lay ahead. The black bulk of the prison that housed accused spirit hosts. As she'd crept along the river's edge, she'd begun to suspect the jade lion might lead her to this place. Although she'd seen it before from a distance, she'd never had a reason to come close. It loomed overhead, blotting out the few stars that managed to shine through thin tears in the cloud cover.
No windows. No doors. How was she supposed to get inside? Even if she could, what would await her there? Stories whispered in dark corners told of crazed spirit hosts, caged and chained-of screams loud enough to be heard even through the heavy cinder block walls. If Auntie Bai Wei had been taken to this place, did it mean she was a spirit host? And if she were, was she dangerous? How did the men, whoever they had been, subdue her? Liu hadn't said anything about syringes or quarantine suits.
It didn't matter. Jin was committed. She'd find a way inside, no matter what waited there. Besides, the lion figurine still hummed with residual heat and it reassured her. She wasn't alone.
A chain link fence topped with razor wire encircled the prison. There were no lights, so Jin slipped out from hiding and darted towards the fence. While she'd have no difficulty scaling the chain links, the razor wire was a problem. No matter how small or how flexible she was, she didn't see a way she'd be able to get through it without serious injury. Instead, she followed the fence around the building's perimeter, looking for any weak spots.
On the far side from where she'd begun, she found what she was looking for. In the stretch between two poles, a section of chain had been warped inward. It wasn't much, but Jin doubted she'd find better.
She lay flat on the concrete and pressed forward, her head and shoulder further bending the fence until they burst free on the far side. Wriggling like a snake, Jin scooted forward, despite tearing her jacket on the rough ground. An edge of chain caught in the back pocket of her jeans. Panic surged through her veins, but she backed up, readjusted her hips, and tried again.
At last, she was through, and she raced toward the shelter of the prison's shadow, where she leaned up against the cinder blocks and gasped for breath.
The easy part was done. When she stopped panting, she rose and ran her fingers along the wall, like she did to find the entry to Auntie Bai Wei's shop. Maybe the same sort of hidden door served this place. Maybe, if she was lucky, she'd find the seam before the sun rose.
A sudden squeal of metal on metal froze Jin in place. Somewhere up ahead, around the corner of the building, the gate was opening. Jin inched forward on silent feet, then ducked low and peered around the corner, keeping her face in shadow.
Two men in black business suits walked through the open gate, leading someone between them. For a moment, Jin's heart leapt at the thought it might be Auntie Bai Wei, but the person was much too small. Once inside, the nearest man stepped away to close the gate behind them.
A moonbeam pierced through the thin clouds and illuminated the scene.
Jin stopped breathing. Yao.