Found by Sarah Prineas

Brumbee had seen me. They’d know Nevery’d been with me. I stood up again.
    “Get down,” Benet growled. “He can deal with ’em.” He pointed with his chin at the canvas tarp I’d hid under before, and took a stroke with his oars. We shot away from the island, headed downstream. I scrambled under the tarp and pulled it over my head. Hidden.

CHAPTER 9
    B enet tied the boat to the last falling-down dock in the Twilight before the mudflats began. The air smelled of mud and dead fish, and of dirty drains. He put the oars together and lay them in the bottom of the boat. I started to climb out from under the tarp.

    “Stay there,” Benet said. He checked his coat pocket, pulled his truncheon from under one of the boat seats, and climbed onto the dock. He glared down at me.
    All right. I pulled the tarp back over my head and settled down in the bottom of the boat to wait. I didn’t want to be there. My feet kept twitching. I wanted to be off, following the finding spell. But Benet had told me to stay, so I would stay.
    There was nothing in the boat to eat. The edge of the seat poked into my back. Just after midday the clouds drew in over the city and it started to rain. Not a misty rain, but a hard, straight rain like a curtain across the river. I was glad of my black sweater and apprentice’s robe. I huddled under the canvas tarp, staring at the rain-flattened, gray surface of the river and the mudflats, getting wetter and hungrier. After a while I fell asleep.
    When I woke up it was dark and not raining. Benet had tossed a couple of sacks into the boat— whump —and climbed in after them. “You all right?”he asked. His coat had big wet patches on it.
    “Yes,” I said, pushing the tarp off me. “You?”
    “Wet,” he said. “You hungry?” he asked.
    I grinned at him. “I’m never hungry, Benet.”
    He gave half a laugh, then put the oars in the oarlocks and untied the rope. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a package wrapped in damp, brown paper, and handed it to me.
    As he rowed us out onto the darkening river, I opened the package. Mmmm. A sandwich made of bread and bacon and butter. “Want some?” I asked.
    “No,” Benet grunted. He looked over his shoulder and took a stroke with an oar to straighten out the boat.
    I ate the bread and bacon. “What’s going on?” I asked.
    “That captain’s got her guards out looking for you,” he said. “Twilight’s crawling with ’em.”
    “Is Nevery all right?”
    “Dunno,” Benet said.
    While waiting for Benet I’d had plenty of timeto think about what might happen. Nevery’d set it up so we’d done the pyrotechnics in an unused workroom. So even though Brumbee had seen me and he’d told Kerrn that he’d seen me, Kerrn might suspect Nevery was helping me, but she wouldn’t know . I hoped Nevery was staying quiet. He didn’t need to get into trouble over this.
    Full night had fallen when Benet rowed us to a shadowy dock on the Sunrise side of the river. He didn’t tie up the boat, just held to the side of the dock, ready to push us off if somebody came along. I knew better than to ask what we were doing.
    The night grew quiet, the only sound the river wavelets lapping against the side of the boat, and the seat creaking when Benet shifted himself. A fog rose up off the river, surrounding us. I stared at the bank, waiting.
    There—a flash of white-bright light cutting through the fog, then another one. “That’s the lothfalas,” I whispered to Benet; as I pointed, the light flashed again.
    “Come on,” Benet said. He grabbed the sacks and climbed out of the boat onto the dock, and I followed him. When we reached the street, which was lined by closed-up, dark shops, Nevery was waiting for us, holding a knapsack.
    “Ah, good,” he said quietly. “Come along.” Off he went, step step tap along the cobbled street, me and Benet right behind. He led us along the misty, puddled street until we came to the park where Sunrise people came