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went to all these lengths to protect me, he may have instructed the Deacons to lay off us as well. And if that rash on Jude's cheek clears up quickly enough, all just might be well! Thomas Whiskeyjack's dying face flashes through my mind in that moment.
    Yeah, but at what cost?
    With these thoughts racing through my brain, I traverse the hall once more, pausing momentarily at the entrance to Traylor's room. He's moved around since I'd first come by, but he still appears to be out cold. I keep going, down to the other end of the Manse where my own room is situated. I open the door and slip inside, my large, down filled mattress calling to me immediately.
    There's nothing more I want to do in that moment than to flop down on the bed, but there's something else I have to do first. I head straight for the window, seeing with a smile that a new sunvisor has been installed. My old one broke a couple days ago. I took the blame for it, saying I had trouble getting it to roll back up. The truth was I'd accidentally kicked it loose climbing onto the roof. Father wouldn't let me cover the window for two days afterward as a lesson.
    Live and learn.
    Or not.
    I roll the visor up, going easy, pushing the shutters wide. I take a quick glance into the yard to be sure no servants are in the yard below and quickly hoist myself onto the sill. I look over and see that the window into Traylor's room is shut tight. He won't hear me. I grasp the eave with my hands and push off hard with my feet, propelling them onto the rooftop. It's not a graceful act, but I've done it enough times that it hardly poses a problem anymore. It's a lot harder when I'm actually trying to bring something up here with me. 
    T his is where I stash my stuff from the beach, after all.
    I'm up on the roof in seconds, my hands grimy from grasping the gutter. I wipe them on my pants and tread carefully up the pitch. Most houses in Krakelyn have roofs constructed of thatch, but ours, of course, is topped with a series of wooden tiles tucked up under one another in rows, the advantage being that the tiles have to be replaced a lot less often than thatch. But they're expensive as hell. I tiptoe across the tiles, using my hands for purchase as I clamber up the steep grade. I reach what remains of a square brick structure near the top. An old chimney. I don't even know where it ends up inside the house. The top of the chimney is covered by a wooden panel that I constructed myself. I lift it off, revealing a large cubby hidden within. Jude built a floor for me inside the chimney–he's really good at building stuff–and I climb inside, enveloped in shade.
    I'm inside my stash.
    I pull a filthy old blanket aside, revealing the wealth of Forerunner treasures I’ve managed to squirrel away over the past year. There's a piece of a reflecting glass; a ball made from a soft, yet durable material; books written in languages no one in Eversummer can understand; metal sheets that are neither rusted nor weakened by age; a female doll constructed of a similar material as the ball; a few containers, like cups, but again made of a hard yet pliable substance; a few fotos and images ripped from books; bizarre clothing fashioned of indefinite materials; and the shiny, metal Box.
    The Box we found on the beach yesterday.
    Unconsciously, I reach out to touch it just as Jude had, but stop myself when I realize what I'm doing. The memory of that bright flash of light is burned into my mind. Along with Jude's scream as the light seared the side of his face. Disgusted and fearful, I spit at the object and cover it back up quickly.
    I just wanted to check that it was still there, that’s all.
    The real problem is gonna be figuring out what to do with such a dangerous artifact. But that problem can wait 'til morning. I'll find Jude, and we'll decide if it's safe for him to come out of hiding. With a yawn, I crawl out of the chimney, replace the wooden cover, and stealthily retreat to my room.
    I'm