t take it personally. This is a work-related rejection. "
"What the hell is that?" said Spyder. They were at the back of the market, walking back in the direction Spyder had come earlier that night. San Francisco was white and chilly with fog. Looming out of the mist exactly where it shouldnt be was a gigantic stone archway sporting Roman columns. On top was a tarnished copper chariot being pulled by four enormous horses. Shrike sniffed the air, turning her head this way and that.
"It smells like Berlin," she said. "Near the Brandenburg Gate. "
"Berlin? Like, the real Berlin?" asked Spyder. "Thats more than a Greyhound ride away, you know. "
"Heres another secret for your scrapbook. There is no difference between San Francisco and Berlin. In all the world, there is only one city. Because of how mortals perceive things, the one city appears as different cities, broken up and scattered all over the globe. But if you know the right doors to open, the right turns to make, the right tunnels and rocks to look behind, even mortals can find their way from one city to every other city. There are maps and trackers, ancient, hidden smuggling routes that only a few in the thieving guilds know. "
"Thats supposed to make me feel better? I almost had enough frequent flyer miles to take Jenny to Prague. Now, shes gone and we could have walked there all along. " Spyder stood in the quiet beyond the market, looking up at the gate. When he looked down again, mist was beading on his jacket and he was growing cold. "I cant do this," he said. "I need help. Can you put me back the way I was?"
"Im sorry. I cant. "
"Can anyone?"
"Maybe.
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