At dusk, the river surface burned a slow, molten orange. From the factory chimney across the water, a thin white plume rose and dissolved into the breeze. Misaki watched it idly. The iron railing held the last warmth of the sun, passing it gently into her palms. The river had a smell — salt and mud and something faintly sweet, a scent that belonged to this city alone. Three years since she'd come here. She exhaled slowly. The breath vanished into the amber air. --- The alley from last night kept catching in the corner of his mind. Valdo stood in the pale light of dawn, letting drops of Nulgrass fall into his eyes. A dull ache spread through them, fading within seconds. In the small metal mirror, his eyes shifted from amber to brown. He confirmed the change, then set the mirror down. She had been young. Watching him from the darkness of the alley as he emerged from the black market. Too close to be an informant. Then what was she? Thinking brought no answers. There wasn't enough