The air in the alley behind the Clockwork Spider was cold as night came. But Jaxon and Lena felt even colder, filled with worry. Anya's order — to crash the Founders' Ball to get a biometric key — hit them hard, like a thrown brick.
"You're crazy, Anya," Jaxon grumbled, running a hand through his always messy hair. "The Founders' Ball isn't some small street fight. It has the tightest security in Grimstone. And trust me, after what's been happening, they're probably extra watchful."
"He's right," Lena added, her voice quiet but strong, more powerful than Jaxon's loud words. Her dark, smart eyes looked over Anya, then Caspian, who stayed quiet and hidden in his hood. "The police (CID) have been making security tighter everywhere, especially at fancy events in the Upper Spires. We heard they're using a new face-scanning system at all big parties. It's made to spot anyone who has even a small link to... bad people."
Anya's jaw tightened. "Bad people like us, you mean."
"Exactly," Lena confirmed, a small, bitter smile on her face. "And for you two, who used to be CID police, it's even worse. Our faces are probably marked. Getting in is one thing. Getting close enough to an important person to get a scan is another. And getting out with it... that's the hardest part."
Jaxon pulled out a dented phone. His fingers flew across its cracked screen. "I might know someone, a fixer, who sells very good fake invitations. Those could get us past the first scan. But it will cost a lot. And buying them will also mark us in a different way – the CID watches big black market purchases very closely."
"We don't have time to be slow, or to argue about money," Anya said firmly. "Caspian's network says they're moving on The Scribe right now. We need that key. What's the fastest way in?"
Lena thought about it, looking into the distance as if searching through hidden computer files in her mind. "Fastest... and riskiest. The new face-scanning system is very advanced, but it has one weak spot. A very specific, very old, and very expensive type of chameleon cloth. It messes up how cameras see you, but it's rare. And very illegal."
"So, we're talking about wearing actual disguises to a fancy party?" Jaxon scoffed.
"Not just disguises," Lena corrected, looking at Anya. "It's a trick for the eyes. It needs careful setup, and it's almost impossible to keep working for a long time. But for getting in and out quickly... it might work." She paused, then added, "There's also the problem of the guests. If we stand out, if we look out of place even with the chameleon cloth, we're finished. We need to blend in."
"We blend in," Anya confirmed, her mind already racing. The Founders' Ball, with its showy displays of wealth and power, was a world away from the dirty reality of the Lower Spires. She had worn a police uniform, not a fancy suit.
"We need the chameleon cloth, then," Anya decided. "Jaxon, ask around for it. Lena, where would we even find something like that so fast?"
Lena gave another small, almost invisible smirk. "There's a black market seller in the Floating Markets, down in the old docks. He sells rare, very illegal technology. He's called 'The Weaver.' If anyone has chameleon cloth, it's him. But he's known for being tricky. And he asks for a lot."
The Floating Markets. Another dangerous, hidden part of Grimstone. It was a maze of shaky boats and old shipping containers used as shops. You could buy anything there for a price, and no one trusted anyone. It was like jumping from one bad situation into another, maybe even worse.
"Alright," Anya said, looking at Jaxon and Lena. "Jaxon, start getting those fake invitations ready. Lena, you and I are going to the Floating Markets. We'll get that cloth. Caspian, you stay here, watch what the CID police are doing. We'll meet back here in two hours. And hope The Scribe is still there when we reach him."
The team split up, each person disappearing into the shadows of the alley. The heavy weight of Grimstone's corruption, a force as strong as the smoggy sky, seemed to press down on Anya. But now, she wasn't alone. And for the first time in a long time, that thought brought with it a small spark of hope.