It was a Saturday, the first since young Walter had started helping his brother Finnegan at the perfume shop.  Lady Alyssana Grey decided that she could take a break from grading papers and worrying about the string of vanished urchins long enough for a visit.

It was a lovely spring afternoon, a nice break from the week of rain that had just passed, and instead of walking across town Alyssana fetched her wings from the cabinet that held them.  Once she had them in hand it was an easy matter to use her machine empathy to guide them to the sockets on her back, after undoing the three small buttons that held the flap in her blouse shut.  The metal connected with a brief tingle of energy, and as she rolled her shoulders her wings responded in kind, metal feathers sliding to their ready position.  within moments her wings had tripled in apparent size, and she was ready to take to the air.

Her home was three stories above a bookshop, and she had easy access to the roof from her upstairs parlor.  The moment of weightlessness before her wings caught her and carried her aloft was a tiny freedom, and quietly exhilarating.  Alyssana watched the world fall away below her, the streets and alleys, the clustered buildings, the patches of greenery with flowers blooming, and let the view push her concerns aside, at least for the duration of her flight.

All too soon she spotted Finnegan's perfumery, and spiraled down carefully to a lower altitude before committing to a shallow dive that set her down at the entryway.  The city was not really built for fliers, though those with wings learned to navigate the narrower streets or else stuck to the open areas and rooftops for their landings.  Now firmly on the ground, Alyssana went around to the side entrance and knocked firmly upon the door.  The shop might be closed, but Finnegan should be present, working on one thing or another.  Hopefully his brother would still be about as well.