Rafael's Point of View
Alec unrolls a folded sheet of paper on the stone bench, the dim lantern light catching the sharp lines of ink. It is the patrol schedule, one I recognize instantly from its layout, though this copy is clearly hand copied. He must have gotten his hands on it earlier. Of course he did. Alec always finds a way.
“We can shadow them without interfering,” Alec says, his tone clipped, precise, the way it always is when he is in planning mode. He points to different slots on the page with a steady finger. “If we stick close but stay hidden, we will see more than they will ever report to us. No one has to know we are there.”
I cross my arms, leaning against the gazebo pillar. My muscles are still stiff from earlier training, from carrying the weight of my father’s cold wo
