Home is the water tower on the Orpheum roof, up behind the sign. No crows up here: a long climb while the sun comes up, then the papers.
Striped awnings are springy. Warm air from vents and the sign's transformers will carry a gliding owl up. Fall off and you can fly straight back up to the last landing you reached.
Pavilion 3, Rocket to the Moon. Under the paint, Dr. Vogel has a real one, fuelled for dawn. Ground it.
Start the carousel, ring the high striker's bell or send the coaster round, and the crows go to look. If the alarm goes, Vogel launches early. The ferris wheel lifts you to the pavilion roof; a catwalk under the pier leads to a hatch in its floor. There's a rifle on the shooting gallery counter.
Harbour Works cast the rocket's fins. Tonight it's casting a gift to the city: a two-ton bell, hollow in the crown. Tag it before it sails.
Hot air off the furnace house and the hall roof lifts a gliding owl to the chimney tops. Ride the overhead crane across the hall, but stay clear of the pour. Start the shunter in the rail yard to draw crows away. If the alarm goes, they'll rush the bell aboard.
Opening night. The bell hangs over the band, and at midnight the Mayor rings it. Make sure it's just a bell.
Stay off the dance floor: touch it and the guests scream. When the band's in full swing it covers your noise; in the slow numbers, tread softly. The kitchen vents lift a gliding owl to the glass roof, and the lantern along its ridge is open. From the roof garden you can fly to every roof around, but none of the three targets has a clean line from it: each has just one roof that does, a long way off. If the alarm goes, they ring the bell early.
The Crows answer to someone who signs only E. Tonight he's giving a moon-viewing party in the garden he gave the city. You're already over the wall.
Gravel crunches and keeps your tracks; the stepping stones don't. The tea house veranda squeaks underfoot. Paper walls stop eyes, not bullets, and show you who's behind them. The bamboo water knocker and the stream's little falls cover a little noise; wading the stream splashes, the stone slabs over it don't. Fly low over the ducks and they'll give you away. Snuff a stone lantern's candle to darken its path.
His crates went up the hill tonight, to the castle on the summit. Ivy keeps your guns: up there a shot carries all the way to the keep. Put the castle lamp out so she can follow.
Shuriken and the bo staff only. A glide is silent; every wingbeat can be heard. The lantern strings over the stair street light you up: cut one down with a shuriken and that stretch goes dark. Wooden walkways and the rope bridge creak, and wind chimes under the eaves ring if you brush them. Stone is quiet, and so is anything near the waterfall. The lamp on the castle turret sweeps the hillside until you shut it off.
Fourteen floors up, his lens is lit and turning. At ten to two they flash a ship in from the sea. Learn the signal, and send her the wrong one.
Shuriken and the bo staff only. The stairs take turns round the corners, so every floor has to be crossed; the hoist up the middle to the great hall is quicker, but its lantern lights whoever rides it. Doors open onto the roofs, and a roof is a way round a floor if you can climb it: three wingbeats lift you about ten metres. Polished corridor boards sing underfoot. Snuff a lamp to darken a room. If they ring a bell, the ship comes in early.
A mile out: the ship that never got her signal, and E.'s aboard. Find out what she's carrying, stop her, and silence her. Then go and get him.
Your silenced pistol only, and no Ivy tonight. She's a big ship inside and out: a 'tween deck runs under the main deck through all four holds, the engine room's under the house, and the masts, the booms and the lifeboats are ways over her decks that only an owl can use (warm air off the funnel lifts a glider). Shoot out a lamp to darken a corner. E. paces his saloon: if he sees you at its windows, he calls his crows. A crow who sees you runs for the whistle, on the bridge or at the engine room's controls: a shot through its cord stops it. Fall overboard and you'll have to fly back up.
Rain on the docks. The Crow syndicate runs Pier 9. Their ledger is in the warehouse, and tonight's shipping manifest is aboard the Morning Star, tied up at the wharf. Take both and be gone before sunrise: an owl in daylight is an easy mark.
A scoped rifle is stashed on the low roof across the street from where you start. Warm air rising from roof vents and the ship's funnel will carry a gliding owl up. Skylights and windows break.
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