I FOLLOWED the gaggle of boys down the alley. Or rather, pressed between two of them who helped me to hobble along, I was conveyed down the alley with increasing unease. There was one Wrong Boy to either side of me, one before, and two behind, and while their leader had suggested a chance to dry myself and recover, I was not entirely sure that I would be allowed to decline their hospitality, should I change my mind. They were a gang, living by their wits and by the points of their knives, and for all they were against the Hellhounds, I had no real reason to believe they might be on the side of the angels.
I stole a glance at the one on my right, the leader. When I was not hunched over with cold and fatigue, he might have been only about an inch taller than I. In that moment, though, I fel
