They waited until the city was asleep.
It took a long time. Suwon didn't go dark the way Seoul did. Long after the sun went down, the strings of small warm lights still glowed along the tops of the fortress walls, and lanterns still burned in the windows of the old houses. People still walked the stone paths in twos and threes, talking softly. Somewhere, for a long time, someone was singing.
But eventually, one by one, the lanterns went out. The voices faded. The paths emptied. And by the time the moon had climbed high above the walls, the only sounds left were the wind in the pine trees and the soft trickle of the little pond in the guest house garden.
Echo sat by the window in the central hall with his eyes closed, listening.
"Still four," he said quietly. "Same places. The house across the path. The wall. Two behind the hedge." He opened his eyes. "They haven't moved in hours. I think one of the ones behind the hedge is asleep."
