“What took you so long?” she asked.
“I th-thought you were g-g-going around,” Painter said as he secured the door. “I waited.”
Cass couldn’t fault him for that. She’d changed plans on the assumption that he’d head straight to the building, an assumption she’d made without even realizing it. Luckily it hadn’t cost them anything more than a few tense seconds. She was just about to respond, to tell Painter he’d done the right thing, or to thank him, when the lights came on.
She hadn’t heard anyone approach, and no one had said anything, but nevertheless there was Mister Sun, standing off to one side of the room, casually leaning against the doorframe of a private room. There was a stimstick between his lips, dangling at a forty-five degree angle like it might drop out of his mouth at any moment. His palsied left hand was curled up and resting on his belly, but Cass noticed he was holding his right arm close along his body and slightly behind his leg, hiding his other hand from view.
“Busy night, my friends?” he said. There was something heavy to his voice; a darker quality, and deeper. Not quite threatening, but Cass felt certain that Mister Sun wasn’t just the easy-going, happy-go-lucky tea merchant he usually seemed to be.
“Mister Sun,” Painter said. “It’s me, Painter.”
The old man squinted slightly and recognition came. He stood up from the doorframe, and his demeanor instantly changed.
“Governor Wren, Lady Cass,” he said, taking a few steps towards them. “Come in, come in.” He motioned for them to come in out of the entryway. “What brings you to Mister Sun’s at so late an hour?”
Cass had chosen to come to Mister Sun’s not because she trusted him, necessarily, but rather because she knew his was a place they could lie low — while they tried to figure out what was going on, and what they had to do next. As long as they weren’t followed, it was unlikely anyone would think to look for them there. And he certainly didn’t seem like the type that anyone would involve in secret plots. But she hadn’t really had a chance to think through just how much she could tell him.
“Mister Sun,” she said. “We need your help.”
“Of course, anything. What is the trouble?”
“We’re not sure,” Cass answered. “But I don’t think the compound’s safe for us right now.”
Mister Sun moved to a table near the back corner of the main room and directed the others to join him. As they approached, Cass saw him lay something across the table; the device he’d been concealing behind himself when they entered. It was a three-barreled weapon, a little over a foot in length and not particularly elegant. She didn’t recognize it exactly, but it didn’t take much to imagine the kind of damage it could deliver. Probably meant for crowd control. She’d never seen Mister Sun brandish a weapon before, but judging from the practiced familiarity he showed with it, she knew it was far from his first time.
Mister Sun started pulling chairs off the table, and Painter joined in.
“Breach in security?” Mister Sun asked. He flipped the last chair over and directed the others to sit.
“Not exactly,” Cass replied.
He slid the weapon back off the table, carefully keeping it pointed in a safe direction without even seeming to think about it, and held it at his side while he gazed at her. Cass held steady, not wanting to say any more than she absolutely had to. After a moment, he seemed to understand all he needed to.
“My house is yours, Lady. I’ll bring tea.” Mister Sun bowed slightly and turned towards the back room, and then paused and turned back. “Or perhaps something stronger?”
“I could use ssss-something… fuh-fuh-ffff,” Painter said, struggling mightily. “For my nnnerves.”
Mister Sun nodded and then disappeared into the back room. A moment later a few smaller lights around the table blinked softly on, and the overheads switched off. It left their immediate area lit with dim warmth, while the rest of the room returned to darkness. Cass’s first reaction was to scan the room again to see if someone else had come in, but then realized Mister Sun must’ve adjusted the lighting from the back room. Smart. From the street, the tea house would likely look all dark again and avoid attracting any unwanted attention at this hour. It also had a settling effect that seemed to put them all more at ease.
Cass surveyed the boys, Wren on her left, Painter on her right. Painter had his elbows on the table, face in his hands, massaging his temples. She got the sense that his entire world was coming apart and that he was doing everything he could just to keep it together right now. Wren was sitting forward in his chair, hands in his lap, eyes fixed on her. Calm, but serious. What do we do now, Mama? She had no idea.
Mister Sun reappeared with a tray that held a stainless-steel pot, an oddly shaped bottle, and three of his trademark handleless mugs. Ever the master servant, he laid everything out with a quiet efficiency that somehow seemed to leave their privacy completely intact.
“Thanks, Mister Sun,” Wren said in a quiet voice.
He bowed slightly, and then indicated the pot and the bottle. “Both are special blends, and both should calm. I’ll leave you to decide. But I think perhaps Master Wren should drink only from the pot.”
“Thank you,” Cass added. “Thanks for helping us.”
Mister Sun inclined his head in acknowledgment.
“Aren’t you going to join us?” Wren asked. Cass grimaced. She hadn’t really noticed that there were only three mugs until Wren mentioned it. Now she wished she’d taken the opportunity while Mister Sun was away to tell the others not to involve him any more than they already had.
Fortunately, Mister Sun shook his head graciously. “I have no wish to impose, Master Wren.”
Just then, three dull impacts sounded on the front door, startling everyone. For a moment, they were all frozen. Cass’s mind raced. Had someone seen them enter the tea house after all?
Mister Sun motioned to Cass and Wren, put a finger to his lips, and then pointed towards the back room. Cass nodded and helped Wren out of his chair, grabbed her pack off the floor, and then together they slipped silently out of the main room. Cass pushed Wren ahead of her, but kept next to the door herself. Pressed against the wall, she slid low and peeked out. Mister Sun was saying something to Painter, who was still seated at the table, but it was too quiet for her to hear. Painter nodded, and Mister Sun started making his way towards the front door. Cass noticed he had his gun in hand again, carefully hidden behind his back.
Boom boom boom — three more heavy blows on the door.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Mister Sun called. Just as he was reaching the entrance, Painter quickly grabbed one of the mugs from off the table and put it on the floor next to his chair. The door slid partially open. From that distance, Cass couldn’t see who was there.
“Yes, my friend?” Mister Sun said.
“I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, Mister Sun,” said the voice on the other side of the door. It was a man, but that was about all Cass could tell. “But we’re looking for someone.”
“And someone you’ve found. Well done.”
“Is there anyone else here with you tonight, sir?”
Cass immediately started thinking through the options. There was a back entrance that led out to the alley behind the tea house, but surely they’d be covering that. She knew there were rooms upstairs, but she’d never been up there. No way to know what their escape options would be from that direction. Most likely, nothing subtle.
“Yes,” Mister Sun answered.
“Could you identify them for us?”
“I’m always at your service, my friend.”