The Maker (The Wren Trilogy Book 2) by Rob Winters

Author:Rob Winters [Winters, Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Cube Press
Published: 2022-04-16T22:00:00+00:00

17

FURLONG TOWERS

Max stepped off the warm train and onto the bitter cold platform of Kings Cross Station. Isaac was close behind, followed by Ellie and then his mother.

During the forty-minute journey, the four had sat around a table in an almost empty carriage, Max in silence for most of it, watching the dark countryside rush past, the darkness occasionally interrupted by snow-dusted towns and villages.

While the others had talked, his mind lingered on an earlier conversation with Wren, where he’d told Max of the two visitors he’d met after the party. Max’s blood turned cold on hearing one was a Hunter. Wren had tried to comfort him. They’re here only for the Maker, he’d said, the Maker and no one else. But Max couldn’t help be afraid. If Wren honestly thought there was no danger, he would have said nothing. He was warning Max to stay alert. If this new Hunter was anything like Jenta, no one was safe. After talking to Wren, he remembered that night on Church Lane — that feeling of being watched. It all made sense to him now.

“So,” Isaac said, leaning into Max as they crunched along the salt-covered platform, jostled by the crowd of oncoming commuters. “Two days to find a link between Kira and FossCorp.”

“If there is one,” said Max, looking over his shoulder, making sure his mother was out of earshot. She was on the phone, organising where to meet old work friends tomorrow.

“If there isn’t, we still get two days out in London.”

“Yeah,” Max said. He hadn’t yet found the right time to mention the new arrivals to Isaac or Ellie. He was hoping he wouldn’t need to.

Outside the station, they weaved through a crowd of commuters. It was Max’s first visit to London since his senses had been supercharged, and the experience was overwhelming. There was too much to process: the people, the traffic, the sounds. He was slowly being crushed under the weight of it all. But as they made the short walk to their meeting point, not far from the station, he gained control of his breath, and the world around him stepped back, giving him space to exist.

They had arranged to meet at The Birdcage, a large, illuminated structure, its bars wide enough to walk through to access a single swing at its centre. Max scanned the area for Kira. She wasn’t there.

“She’s probably just running late,” said his mother, noticing his look of concern. “She’ll be here.”

They waited, Max and his mum sitting on a nearby curved wooden bench, watching Ellie push Isaac dangerously high on the swing. As the swing returned to her, Ellie jumped to reach it, forcing it down, driving Isaac higher each time, the chains becoming slack as he reached the highest point. Tourists and commuters watched on, amused by his high-pitched shouts of protest, but Ellie was having far too much fun to stop.

Unsurprisingly, it was Max who spotted Kira first. She emerged from the underground station, her thick black hair contained under her woolly hat.

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