Steel for 5 (Mags & Nats Book 3)

by Stephanie Fazio

  “Never better,” A.J. replied. He cocked his head at me. “What took you so long to get us out?”

  I looked around at my friends. “Are any of you feeling…weaker than usual?” I asked. “Your magic, I mean.”

  My friends all shook their heads.

  So, it was just me. Before I had a chance to consider what that might mean, my friends caught sight of the eighth person in our group.

  “What is he doing here?” Yutika demanded, still holding onto Michael as she glared at Diego.

  “Long story,” I muttered. “But he’s the one who got us out, so we have to play nice for the time being.”

  Diego gave me an angelic grin.

  “Okay,” Kaira said, giving Diego a suspicious look before cutting him out of the conversation. “We need a plan.”

  “What’s to plan?” A.J. asked. “Michael tells the foreman to step off a tall ledge, we get the slaves out of here, and then we tear this place to the ground.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Diego said. “While you were all twiddling your thumbs, I did some recon. The foreman is the least of your problems.”

  “What are you talking about?” Graysen demanded.

  “The foreman answers to someone else. I don’t know who, but I can tell you there’s a whole operation going on here that’s bigger than just the slaves. There are people with serious magic in here that you won’t want to go up against.”

  “Care to elaborate?” Graysen asked.

  Diego shrugged. “Not really. I just felt a shit-load of magic and saw some scary dudes in cloaks.”

  I thought about the figure who had been following the foreman around during the roll call.

  “Super Mags?” I asked.

  Diego nodded.

  “Alright.” Graysen ran a hand through his hair. “We have to go back to Boston and regroup. We won’t be any good to those kids if we get ourselves locked back up.”

  The others nodded.

  “I’m not leaving,” I said in a quiet voice. “Not until I find out about Lilly.”

  Before my friends could insist on staying with me, I said, “You all need to go back to Boston and figure out how we’re going to rescue the rest of the slaves.” With my filthy clothes and titanium skin, I could blend in without needing Kaira’s illusion.

  “We don’t leave people behind,” A.J. said. “Ever.”

  The rest of the Seven nodded in agreement.

  “I’ll stay with her,” Diego said, interrupting the tense face-off.

  Kaira scoffed. “Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better. And as soon as we get back to Boston, you’re going to jail.”

  Diego crossed his arms and gave Kaira a bemused look. “Then, I guess you’ll never find out what I learned snooping around in here.”

  “We could make you tell us,” Graysen said, his voice dangerous.

  “You could.” Diego met Graysen’s glare with one of his own. “But then you’d be no better than the last Director…taking what you want without any regard for civil rights.” He smirked. “I’ll escape wherever you try to lock me up, and then I’ll make sure all of Boston knows how you treat Super Mags who don’t play your little games.”

  Graysen’s nostrils flared.

  “You ass,” Kaira spat, but she didn’t say anything else.

  I didn’t know how I felt about Diego holding his own against my friends. I didn’t know how I felt about him, period.

  “You’re right,” Graysen grated out. The words seemed to cause him physical pain. “But once we have a handle on this,” he swept his hand around at the dark tunnel, “we’re handing you over to the cops. You’ll get a fair trial, but you will be tried.”

  “I’d be honored, your majesties,” Diego said, bending over in an exaggerated bow.

  “And don’t you forget it,” A.J. huffed. To the rest of us, he said, “Look, how about we split our group in two. Yutika, Smith, Kaira, and Graysen can head back to Boston and start dealing with this mess on the home front. Michael and I will stay here with trouble and double-trouble.”

  He was referring to me and Diego. Or maybe Diego and me…I didn’t ask for clarification.

  Kaira opened her mouth to argue. After taking one look at my face, she sighed and shook her head. “Are you sure about this?” she asked.

  “Positive,” I replied. “Now, go. We’ll meet back at the mansion as soon as I figure out what’s going on here.”

  And find some proof about Lilly…one way or another.

  “I’ll send the train car back for you as soon as we get to Boston,” Smith said. “I’ll leave you a note talking you through how to make the thing run.”

  Kaira jabbed a finger in Diego’s chest. “If any of my people don’t make it back in one piece, I’m holding you responsible.”

  Unfazed, Diego gave her a salute.

  We split off at the elevator. Kaira illusioned her group into slave children who waved to us as they got on the elevator. They headed down, back to the lowest level of the mine. The rest of us would be going up to Level 3.

  “Allow me,” Diego said, giving me a wink.

  I sucked in a breath as Diego, Michael, A.J., and I turned almost invisible. Whenever one of us moved, there was a slight flicker as Diego switched our appearances to make us blend into our surroundings.

  “Okay, that is kind of spectacular,” A.J. said grudgingly.

  We waited until the elevator returned, and then we headed up.

  “Stay close,” Diego whispered. “And follow me.”

  “Where are you?” I hissed back, trying to follow the sound of his voice.

  In answer, Diego took my hand in his, threading our fingers together.

  A jolt of heat spread up my fingertips. It unnerved me how natural it felt to hold his hand. I quickly fumbled for Michael or A.J. with my other hand to remind myself the contact was just about staying together…nothing more.

  “Where are we going?” Michael asked in a low voice.

  “Foreman’s office,” Diego said.

  With my hand still linked in his, we took the elevator up to the third level. This space felt like less of a mine. The walls were wood-paneled, and the tunnel was lit with lamps instead of naked bulbs.

  I paused to study a crude, hand-drawn map tacked onto the wall. From it, I could see the mine’s five levels. The top level contained sleeping quarters and supply shaft to the surface. That must have been how the foreman got in and out of the mine without having to take the underground train to Boston.

  Level 2 was the Alchemists’ section of the mine. I assumed it was where the raw Agent S was converted into its liquid form. Level 3, where we were now, was marked simply as Administration. Level 4 was the isolation chambers…which I had no intention of visiting again. And finally, the bottom level of the mine was where the actual Agent S extraction took place.

  I noticed that the underground train wasn’t marked on the map. Probably whoever was in charge of this place didn’t want just anyone hopping on the train and busting out of here.

  “Bri, come on,” Diego whispered.

  He slid a key out of his pocket—a different key from the one he’d used to get us out of our cells—and opened the door at the end of the tunnel.

  We let ourselves into a large, messy office. I held back a gag at the clear jar on the foreman’s desk that was full of brown tobacco spittle.

  Diego dropped our camouflage so we wouldn’t bump into each other as we moved around the office.

  A.J. and I went for the desk. Michael stayed near the doorway, keeping watch on the tunnel outside while he rifled through a file cabinet. Diego hung the keys he’d taken back on an empty wall peg.

  The desk was a disaster of documents, paper plates crusted with smears of food, and hand-written notes that were barely legible.

  I pulled a thick envelope full of receipts from one of the drawers and quickly thumbed through them.

  “That’s the main grocery store in California,” A.J. said, looking over my shoulder.
/>
  I flipped the envelope over to read the writing on the back.

  Remwald-These are October’s receipts.

  A.J. wrinkled his brows. “Remwald?”

  “Maybe the foreman doesn’t know he’s dead?” I said, although that seemed unlikely. Ex-Director Edwardian Remwald had been dead for four months. The foreman might be dense, but he would have to notice if his communications went unanswered for four months.

  “I found this when I was poking around earlier,” Diego said. He held up a piece of stationary with an R embossed at the top. There was a list of supplies written in a flowing script that was nothing like the foreman’s messy scrawl. At the bottom, there was a looping signature that looked like Remwald.

  “Smith’s going to love this,” A.J. said. “A new conspiracy.”

  Michael took the paper and squinted at the signature. “There has to be another explanation,” he said. “We all saw Remwald’s body and the autopsy. There was even a DNA report, proving it was Remwald’s body.”

  I looked more closely at the paper, which contained a list of hospital supplies and chemicals.

  “Those are for the Magical Reduction Potion,” Diego said.

  “What are the spinal needles for?” A.J. asked, tapping the item on the list. “And why would our foreman need seventy-five of them?”

  Diego shrugged. “When inhaled, the MRP is a poison that physically weakens us. When injected into the blood, it only affects our magic. I have no idea what would happen if it was injected into spinal fluid.”

  “You’re awfully knowledgeable about this stuff, aren’t you?” A.J. asked Diego.

  “Someone has to be,” Diego replied darkly.

  I put aside the note and our questions about it. That mystery could wait.

  “Look at this,” Michael said, pulling a stack of print-outs from the file cabinet.

  We all crowded around. My pounding heart turned to a dull throb when I saw there were no names, only numbers.

  There were hundreds of children represented on this list—far more than I’d seen on the bottom level of the mine. There were also dates next to each number, which I thought was either their birth date or the date they’d arrived at the mine.

  One of the numbers matched Lilly’s birthday. February 9, 2065.

  Hope—that cruel, fickle beast—surged inside me.

  “Someone’s coming,” Michael said. “One of the slaves.”

  I noticed our bodies blending into the wood-paneled walls and shook my head at Diego. We didn’t need camouflage when we had Michael.

  A woman, wearing a dirty sack-dress and tattered shoes, came to the door. She was carrying a stack of papers and one of those TV dinners. She looked about our age, although it was difficult to tell from her emaciated figure.

  “Don’t worry,” Michael said as soon as she came into the office. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

  The woman gave Michael a shy smile. She deposited the papers and TV dinner on the foreman’s desk as she regarded all of us with curiosity. Thanks to Michael, she wasn’t afraid.

  “You’re older than the other slaves,” I observed, cringing as soon as the indelicate words were out of my mouth.

  The woman looked at the ground. “Our bodies can only tolerate so many years of abuse. Most…don’t survive long down here.” She leaned into Michael, as though his solid presence could give her more strength.

  I thought about the caskets buried in the tunnel on Level 5. All at once, I felt unbearably cold.

  “I’m so sorry,” Michael said gently. “We’re going to do everything we can to help you, okay?”

  I could see the way the woman’s whole body relaxed. She raised a tentative hand to Michael’s arm.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes fixated on Michael in pure adoration.

  I cleared my throat. “Can you help us with something?”

  I held out the list of numbers to the woman, pointing to the one that matched Lilly’s birthday.

  “Do you know where I can find this…one?” I asked, my voice faltering. I couldn’t make my mouth form the shape of the word slave.

  The woman looked at Michael, and then took the paper from me to study it. She licked her lips. Her dirt-smudged cheeks turned pink.

  “I—don’t know how to read,” she told Michael.

  Michael patiently read the number and birth date, explaining to her that Lilly was five years old.

  Michael pointed to me. “The child we’re searching for might look like her.”

  “But she might not,” I said, hating the way my voice wavered. “I…never met her.”

  A.J. linked his arm through mine, offering silent comfort.

  I stood still as the woman regarded me.

  “Your eyes are familiar,” she said thoughtfully. “One of the slaves in the nursery has eyes like yours.”

  My pulse skipped. I had my mother’s eyes…just like Brent. Hammond hazel, my dad called them.

  “Can you bring us to this child?” Michael asked, since I was just standing there like an idiot.

  The woman shook her head.

  “The youngest ones are on Level 1, and only the master can get inside.” She gave Michael an apologetic look.

  “Where is this master?” I demanded, my voice on the edge of violence. “How do I find him?”

  Fear flashed across the woman’s expression at my intensity.

  “I’m sorry.” Her gaze flicked to Michael. “He isn’t around much.”

  “That’s alright,” he told her gently, giving me a warning look. “Thank you for all the information. You’ve been a big help.”

  “Wait,” I said, making a concerted effort to sound more civil. “Do you know why the strongest Steels in here don’t cancel out everyone else’s magic?”

  The woman bobbed her head. “He does it to all of us. That way, we all get lowered to Level 6s and can work the same.”

  Level 6 Steels were strong enough to demolish a building with their bare hands. Depending on what kind of metal their skin was made out of, they were less flexible and quick on their feet than I was. Most Steels were better at brute force tasks than ones that required a lot of finesse.

  “Are you talking about the master?” Michael asked. “Is that who’s taking away your magic?”

  She shook her head. “Energy Manipulator.” She wrapped her skinny arms around herself. “Very powerful.”

  “Does he wear a cloak?” I asked, thinking of the cloaked person who had stuck close to the foreman.

  The woman nodded her head.

  It all made sense—why I was so much weaker here, and why my magic hadn’t cancelled out the other Steels. The Energy Manipulator was sucking away just enough power from every Steel here so our magic became effectively identical.

  It was infuriating, but at the same time, a tremendous relief. All we had to do was take out the Energy Manipulator, and then my magic would be back to full strength.

  “Once we get rid of that pesky Mag,” A.J. said, reading my thoughts, “you’ll cancel out every other Steel in the mine. The foreman will be magic-less.”

  The thought brought a grim smile to my lips.

  “There’s something wrong with that Energy Manipulator’s mind,” Michael said. “I can’t really explain it, except that his mind seemed blank of everything except his laser-focus on the Steels.”

  “Maybe he expends all his magic to keep the Steels at the same level and has no energy left for anything else,” I suggested.

  “Maybe,” Michael said, but he didn’t look convinced.

  We all froze as the foreman’s raspy voice filtered down the tunnel. The woman gasped.

  “I have to go,” she whispered. Without another word, she fled.

  “I think we’d better skedaddle, too,” A.J. pointed out.

  “Come closer,” Diego ordered all of us.

  He took my hand again, and I grabbed Michael’s. All of us blurred out of sight until we melted against the wall.

  “This is rea
lly rather handy,” A.J. observed.

  “So glad you approve,” Diego replied.

  “Shh,” Michael ordered as we slipped out of the office and back into the tunnel.

  The foreman had disappeared, leaving our path to the elevator clear.

  We were almost to Level 2, when someone’s shout reached all the way to the open-air elevator.

  “Oh, what now?” A.J. groaned.

  Another panicked screech tore through the air. The hairs at the back of my neck stood up in warning.

  An alarm began to blare.

  CHAPTER 24

  Agent Steel spill on Level 2!” the foreman’s voice roared over some kind of loudspeaker system. “All Steels to 2!”

  The alarm continued to blare in the background.

  “Bri, wait—” Diego shouted, his voice barely audible, even though he was standing right next to me.

  I ignored him, jumping from the elevator and onto Level 2. Diego camouflaged me so I blended into the cement wall as I burst into the madness.

  The room looked a little like the basement of MagLab, with black-topped tables covered with chemistry equipment. I wasn’t really paying attention to that, though. The commotion was coming from the center of the room, where steam was billowing up from something on the ground.

  A group of children were crowded around in a circle, trying to see the source of all the steam. I peered over their heads.

  A woman in a stained white lab coat was lying on the floor. Her bare, normal-skin hand was clutching the remains of what looked like a broken Agent S vial.

  The woman writhed and shrieked as gelatinous, green liquid oozed up her arm. Her skin pulsed a shimmery green. There was a sizzling sound, like frying meat. Then, her flesh turned black.

  I couldn’t look away.

  The woman’s charred skin peeled away, until the milk-white bone of her forearm was exposed. She cursed and cried as she tried to rid herself of the poison. She tore at her own skin with mangled fingers.

  As I watched, her exposed bones began to sizzle. The woman was…disintegrating.

  Nausea surged through my throat.

  The Steel children congregating around her began to scoop up the liquid Agent S droplets into their cupped metal hands. From their methodical movements and relaxed posture, it was clear this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.