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And for three frustrating nights and days, they had learned nothing.

Jalissa settled deeper into her cloak and huddled against Edmund. She kept her whisper too quiet for anyone else to hear. “Is being a spy always this boring?”

Edmund’s grin flashed, barely visible beneath the hood of his cloak. “The thing about being a spy is that, if things aren’t boring, then you didn’t do your job right.”

“Makes sense, I guess.” Jalissa sighed, her breath puffing in front of her face in the darkness of the early morning street. “How long do we sit here before deciding that this is a dead end?”

“I’ve waited months before catching a break before. Three days are nothing.” At Jalissa’s groan, his grin widened. “But in this case, you and I are going to stay here through today. If nothing happens by then, we’ll pull out and the Intelligence Office will place different agents on duty here. We’ve nearly worn out our welcome in these disguises. If we hang around much longer, someone at the Times might grow suspicious.”

Jalissa did not want to admit how welcome that news was. She had agreed to this. She had wanted to come, after all.

They lapsed into silence as they watched the first of the day shift of typesetters and press operators enter the building. A few minutes later, the workers on the night shift began leaving. As the sunrise tinged the sky pink, the editors began arriving, along with a few of the reporters, though Trent Bourdon had yet to show up for the day. Several boys of maybe ten or twelve darted in and out of the building, running errands and carrying messages.

Everything was like clockwork, the same clockwork Jalissa had watched for the past three mornings. Nothing out of place. Nothing unusual.

A boy, one with curly brown hair whom Jalissa had seen several times over the past few days, left the Times building, darting a glance around before he hurried down the street.

Jalissa was not sure what caught her eye this time. The furtive glance around could have simply been the natural caution of a young boy, alone, stepping onto a dangerous street. But something seemed off to her.

She nudged Edmund. “I think we should follow that boy.”

The boy was still on the same street, but if they did not follow soon, they would lose him.

Jalissa had expected Edmund to ask for some explanation, but instead, he pushed to his feet, leaning onto his cane. He held his arm out to her. “Let’s go.”

She took his arm, hunching as he was to keep up her act as an old Escarlish woman. Together, she and Edmund hobbled up the street, yet Edmund somehow managed to set a brisk pace despite his feigned feebleness.

Partway down the street, they passed Sarya in the guise of a drunken man staggering his way home. After a nod and a quick, whispered conversation, Sarya set off down one of the alleys to try to circle ahead of the boy.

The boy continued down the same street for several blocks, making it rather easy for Jalissa and Edmund to trail him.

At a larger cross street, he halted and glanced around, including behind him.

Jalissa tensed, ducking. The boy would see them. Would he recognize them as the same couple that had been sitting across from the Times building for the past few days?

But Edmund tightened his grip on her arm and dragged her forward. He whispered, “Never duck or halt or try to hide when a mark glances back. You’ll draw attention to yourself. Pretend you are busy with your own business and take no notice of him.”

Easier said than done.

Sure enough, the boy faced forward and kept on walking as if he had seen nothing amiss.

As soon as the boy was out of sight, Edmund straightened and pulled back his hood. He held the cane out to her. “He’s seen us once. If he spots us still following after he turned that corner, he might grow suspicious. So we’ll change our appearance in a few simple ways.”

Jalissa eased to her full height, thankful to stand straight again since her back was aching from being hunched over. She pulled the hood off her head as well, revealing her grimy gray wig. Then she took the cane.

She and Edmund set off once again, this time with her using the cane to steady herself while Edmund was the helpful, elderly husband walking with his wife.

When they turned the corner, the boy was farther away, trotting along the sidewalk.

Edmund quickened their pace, and Jalissa was thankful that she had long enough legs to keep up with him without trotting in a way that would give away how much they were hurrying.

The boy took a few more turns, and each time she and Edmund changed their appearance. They ditched the cane and the cloaks. The gray wigs went next, tucked safely behind some trash barrels for someone to retrieve later. Jalissa’s dark brown hair was pinned up in such a way that it looked like an Escarlish hairstyle, the style covering most of her ears. The grime on her face hid her slightly silvery skin tone. At another intersection, Sarya joined them so that they were walking three together instead of two.

Just when she was wondering what else they could ditch to change up their appearance, the boy raced up to another large brick building, opened the door, and disappeared inside. The clamor of printing presses—something that Jalissa had become very familiar with over the past few days—reverberated into the air.

“This is another newspaper office.” Jalissa eyed it, though she didn’t see any signs to denote the name of the paper.

Edmund frowned as he stared at it. “Not just any newspaper. The Sentinel.”