Remi kicks their feet off the window and lets them fall to the floor with a clap, then leans in. “Our best bet is to just go for it, right? We get on the ground, get some food, prep some spells, get your drone ready to go, Diz, and . . . we go. Tonight, if we can be ready by then. Sound good?”
I meet Ania’s gaze briefly, then chew the inside of my lip. “We don’t have to go so quickly if you need some time, Remi. He said we have two days—”
“Do we really, though?” they snap. “That’s just a guess. It’s two days until the labs get their new stores of maz-15. What if it takes them a while to collect it? We have no way to be sure.”
They sit back and draw some vitaz from their stores, then start in on a complicated weave I’ve seen them pull off dozens of times. A little boost, a stopgap for when they’re feeling poorly between treatments. Can’t be used too often, but if ever there were a time . . .
They take a deep breath and continue.
“I appreciate your concern, and I know this isn’t great. We still have a good twentyish hours until go time, though. I’ll sleep all the way back to Kyrkarta, eat well, and sleep more at Davon’s apartment. It’s totally possible the sheer stress of all this will screw my immune system anyway, and I’ll get pneumonia or something for a month again. I can’t just will my body to behave. It’s a risk I’m willing to take, though. And when this is all over, I promise, I’ll take it easy. This is my choice and I’m making it.”
My fingers itch to reach for Remi, to run through their hair, feel the pulse in their neck, brush over their bottom lip . . . but no. I don’t get to want that. Can’t. I’ve closed that door for good.
“Okay,” I say, voice flat. “We go tonight.”
I turn away and slump in my seat, staring out the window.
Sure enough, Remi sleeps for the rest of the ride home, but I must drift in and out too, because the blurred early morning dimness outside is already beginning to break up into patches of shadowy trees and far-distant buildings gleaming in the faint just-rising sun. The approach to Kyrkarta seems to take forever, in the same way I imagine walking to your own execution must. We gather our things in silence and stand at the door, ready to disembark as soon as the train stops. Minutes to go until we set foot back in our home city.
Hours to go until we break into one of the most highly secured facilities in Kyrkarta.
Less than a day until we change the world, or die at the bottom of a very deep hole in the ground, never to be seen again.
I always thought I’d die in a suitably dramatic way.
Twenty-Three
THE TRAIN DOORS SLIDE OPEN, and our plan falls apart almost immediately.
Jaesin hops down onto the platform first, bag slung over his shoulder, and is seized by his right arm before he can take a single step.
“Jaesin Kim, you’re under arrest for the theft of MMC property and the deaths of—”
They should have grabbed his other arm. Jaesin’s a lefty.
He hauls off and slugs the officer in the jaw with an audible crack, then shoves him back into the two officers right behind him. Over Jaesin’s shoulder, I see four more officers coming our way, fighting through the crowd to get to the train. Really? Is our luck this bad?
“Diz?” Jaesin shouts as he throws some lady’s luggage at the pile of officers on the ground.
I slap him on the shoulder as I hop off the train, gesturing for him to follow. And I trust he will. This is my deal. We may both be mundies, but we have our uses. He’s our strength and people skills. It’s my job to know things. People. Locations. Current events. He may have been ready to run off to Jattapore, but Kyrkarta is my city, and I know it inside and out. This is exactly my kind of moment.
I sprint toward a staff-only door that I know holds a staircase to the roof, ducking low to cut between waiting passengers. Most people happily get out of my way, not wanting to get involved, but there’s always one person who just has to be a hero.
A large girl about my age in a flowing skirt drops her bag and darts into my path, looking like she means business. She’s wearing an Aeraz Warrior 3 shirt (only available as a pre-order bonus through GameGo) and has badass blue streaks in her hair. I wince internally. She and I would probably get along famously under other circumstances, but right now she’s in my way, and I am not about to be arrested. Not with so much at stake.
I square off with her and prepare to attempt something ridiculous, but a bright bolt flies over my shoulder and hits the girl square in the face before I can lunge. She drops, out cold, and I leap over her crumpling form with a guilty grimace. If I ever bump into her at the club, I’ll have to apologize. I raise a hand in thanks to Remi or Ania, whoever managed that quick stunner, and push onward. The door to the stairwell has never been locked during my nighttime wanderings, but that could have changed. It’s possible. I put on a last burst of speed and yank on the door handle, fully expecting it to be locked—
—and it flies open so easily, I stumble backward and almost bust my ass.
I risk a quick glance back. Ania catches up first and ducks inside, with Remi next and Jaesin watching their back right behind. All present and accounted for. I yank the door shut before the cops can clear enough of a path to start slinging maz, and push past Ania. This whole dashing-up-the-stairs thing is way too reminiscent of the day of the earthquake and my frantic rush to make sure Jaesin and Remi were okay. (Still mad about that.)
The station is thankfully only three stories high, compared to the nine floors I had to run in our apartment building, but by the time I hit the third landing, shouts of “Halt!” and calls for backup echo up after us, along with pounding boots on the stairs.
We burst out onto the rooftop, the door banging open with a sound the whole neighborhood must hear. The sound of cocking guns follows us out, and my blood goes cold. Apparently we’re done messing with maz and have moved on to guns. Fabulous.
“Now what?” Jaesin asks. He slams the door shut and slumps against it while Ania draws a quick spell to bind it shut.
Remi and I look around helplessly, studying the roof. Pipes, billboards, neon, lots of long, flat nothingness. Last time I was here, maybe three months back, there was a walkway between the roof and the strip mall next door, used mostly by the employees at the station to go grab lunch.
The walkway is in pieces on the street far below, along with half the mall. The earthquakes. Thanks, MMC.
We’re so screwed.
“Do you trust me?” Remi asks in a firm voice.
I turn to them with a questioning glance. “Of course we trust you. But what—”
They point to the opposite side of the roof, to the building on the station’s other side. “Then I need all of you to give me ten seconds, run for the edge of the roof, and jump for that red building next door.”
“What?” Ania says, the blood draining from her face. I don’t blame her. I jump between the roofs of this city all the time, and even I would never attempt that distance.
“Don’t argue!” Remi says, pulling strands of maz between their fingers and weaving furiously. “You said you trusted me!”
As soon as the spell is finished, they slice it into fourths with several quick slashes, and throw one at each of us. The fist-sized deep purple spell crashes into my chest like a tiny burning explosion, followed swiftly by a shove from Remi.
“Go, I said!” Remi shouts, and the four of us turn as one to make a mad dash for the edge. Oh stars, I would never attempt a jump like this, it’s way too far, the angle all wrong, and it could so easily go badly, impressively badly, but then the lip of the roof is there and I coil my muscles for a leap just as gunfire explodes behind us and I jump . . .
. . . and spring so far I let out the most high-pitched sound I’ve ever shrieked in my life. I don’t jump over the gap so much as bounce over it, flying through the air like one of Remi’s woven birds, and I land well past the edge of the next roof. I overbalance and catch myself on the heels of my scabbed hands, the
n scrabble out of the way to watch the others make their own landings. Jaesin, jock that he is, lands like a superhero, and I half expect rocks to float skyward around him as the ground cracks at his feet or something. Ania, on the other hand, tumbles into a scraped-up heap, her curls flopping over her face. Remi comes last, and I catch them as they nearly land on top of me.
“You’re a genius!” I shout, still clutching their forearms.
“About to be a dead genius. They still have guns!” Remi grabs my hand and drags me down as bullets whiz over our heads, splitting the early morning silence with their loud cracks. We run hunched over, making ourselves smaller targets, until we can put on some speed and leap to the next building over, and the next. Shouting drifts from the streets below us at first, but that’s fine, because the gunshots have long faded into the distance.
The sound of the speeder jets closing in provides a whole new problem.
“Any new ideas?” I shout to the group as the tiny dots in the distance roar closer.
“We need to get off these rooftops!” Ania shouts back, her long legs eating up the distance much better than my short stubby ones.
Jaesin points at the next building ahead of us. “Aim for the fire escape instead of the roof! We can run down and try to lose them in the alleys.”
“And I guess we just hope they’ve called off the ground search,” I mutter, but do as he says. I spring off the rooftop and grab for the railing of the fire escape, and my stomach lurches as the whole thing shudders and leans. Jaesin and Ania are already running down by the time I manage to haul myself up, just in time to see Remi run for the edge and leap . . . but it’s going to be too short, they didn’t push hard enough, or the maz is starting to wear off, and they flail in the air in what feels like slow motion, nowhere near the fire escape, nowhere near enough for me to reach out and grab them. Their eyes go wide, and we lock gazes.
“No!” I shout, arms outstretched as they begin to fall, fall, fall. . . .
Far below, a bright golden glow flares out, and I race down the rickety fire-escape stairs, barely landing my footing before flinging myself over the railing of the next set. My breath burns in my lungs, strangling my heart. They have to be okay, I will never forgive myself if Remi . . . if they . . .
On the street below, Remi lies sprawled out, arms and legs akimbo and head lolled to one side.
And laughing?
As I near the ground level, I see the faint glow of light between them and the ground, a cloud of maz cushioning them. I collapse with a hard exhale, the cold concrete biting into my knees as the neon lights of the city burn themselves permanently into my retinas.
They’re fine.
Everything is fine.
I reach out, feeling for their hand on the ground beside me and letting my fingers dig into the pulse point at their wrist.
“I’m fine, Dizzy, I’m fine,” they insist, but their breathing is shaky, and their fingers feel for and catch mine, squeezing tight.
“We’re not out of this yet, you two,” Ania says, tugging at Jaesin’s hand. “They’ll know we went to street level. They’ll mobilize the ground crew again, have this place flooded with officers in two minutes. We need a new plan.”
Why does it feel like we’re doing nothing but running, running, running these days? We’ve had our fair share of jobs over the years that ended with us fleeing the tunnels, but . . .
I have an idea.
“They know we’re at street level,” I say, pushing to my feet and gingerly pulling Remi up with me. “But I bet they won’t expect us to go underground.”
“No, they’d never expect us to go back to where we committed all of the crimes they’re after us for,” Ania says sarcastically, but Remi shakes their head.
“No, I think she’s right,” they say, squeezing my hand. “They’re not expecting it. I’ll send a few diversionary spells down a side street, make them think we’re still on ground level. Diz can disable the security in the tunnels and I can keep a feel out for any maz trouble.”
“Sounds like that’s our plan, then,” Jaesin says, pushing gently at Ania’s shoulder until she starts running again. “I’m not hearing any other ideas, and this one makes sense. Probably.”
Ania sighs as I bring up a map on my lenses, splitting my attention as best I can between guiding us and not breaking my ankle while I run. “Okay, there’s an access six blocks from here. Follow me.”
As we jog, Remi begins to spin something into being, whispering to themself as they do. First formaz, to provide shape and structure, then motaz, adding motion, then another, and another. At some point they glance up at Ania, who promptly raises a hand and threads more magnaz into the spell when Remi’s stash starts to run thin. Finally, the last strand pulls taut, and the spell takes the form of a little golden bird that wriggles and struggles in Remi’s grasp. At the next intersection, Remi hurls it down a perpendicular street, then quickly spins a lasso of darker obscuraz around our heads. Shouts and a crash erupt from the direction of the maz bird, so I pick up speed and lead us in the opposite direction, taking a roundabout route to the access point.
We stick to the shadows and back alleys as much as possible, casually strolling across intersections when we can’t, Remi weaving as many birds as they can. The roar of the speeders and shouts of the police fade far into the distance, as they presumably track Remi’s birds instead of us. Just as we reach the access point, Remi winces.
“They’ve caught all the birds,” they say. “We’re out of time.”
“That’s fine, we’re almost home free,” I reply as I run my usual intrusion routine on the tunnel access door.
And I’m promptly iced out.
“Shit,” I say. “Shit, shit!” It’s all the eloquence I can muster. I forgot I told Davon about all the holes in their system, thinking we’d never be doing this ever again. He’s probably already implemented some initial security patches. This is going to be much harder than last time.
“They changed their security protocols,” I say, digging into one cargo pocket for my cables. “I gotta hardwire in. Sorry, everyone.”
“Not your fault,” Remi says. “You got this.”
It is my fault, but I appreciate the sentiment anyway. I take a breath and let their words settle in my chest, try to believe them. I’ve done this a hundred times. The cops are nowhere near us right now. We’ll be fine. Remi will be fine. And after all this, after everything, they still believe in me.
I have this.
I pull my multitool from my pocket and pry the panel off the security system with the flat-head screwdriver attachment, exposing the wiring. There’s a specific data cable I need, usually—yes, solid black with a white line up the center. I snip it in half and strip one end to expose the tiny wires within, then twine them together with the bare end of my own cable. I don’t have my soldering iron with me to really secure the contact, but I pull a small roll of black electrical tape from another pocket and tear a strip off with my teeth, wrapping it securely around the join. The other end plugs straight into my deck, and my diagnostic program automatically detects the new input and brings up a command prompt.
I start basic—no need to waste time getting fancy if simple will work—but I’m stonewalled at every turn. Damn, I can’t believe I told Davon, one of MMC’s IT managers, everything about my exploits out of sheer guilt. He’s a good guy, so of course he immediately put that knowledge to work. I should have saved it for when I took the job with them, made them bow before my awesomeness. Not that that’s happening anymore, either. Instead, I have to sit here and play get-to-know-you with their new protocols. I growl in frustration and slam my deck down in my lap, looking up at Jaesin through the code in my lenses.
“I’m gonna have to brute force my way in, otherwise we’ll be here for half an hour. It’s gonna trip all kinds of alarms, probably, but I should be able to set up some decoys at other spots down the pipeline. We’ll have to haul ass once we’re down there.”
“W
hat else is new?” Ania says. “At least we can replenish our maz again while we’re down there. I’m totally bled dry.”
I huff a laugh. “A good night for another last job ever, I guess.”
The others crack exhausted smiles at that, and with the thrill of that tiny victory, I get to work. A few minutes later, the latch clickes open, and my lenses flood with warning notifications in response.
We’re in.
Jaesin holds the door open as I detach my cable and replace the access panel. It’s not perfect, but it’ll withstand a cursory glance, at least. Not that it matters much, with every MMC security system in the city screaming about this break-in, but every little thing counts.
Once we’re all inside, Jaesin lets the door close and I slump back against it, my head throbbing from the stress of intense focus.
“Well,” I say. “That could have gone better. I need a nap. How about you all?”
“Definitely wishing we could have nap time,” Remi says, “but maybe not in a sewer. We can sleep once we get to Davon’s.”
I nod and point down one tunnel. “That way to Davon’s block. I scheduled some alarms to go off in the other directions. We can stop at the first tap point we pass to fill up, and I’ll call Davon, tell him we’re on our way.”
Remi nods and turned to follow the tunnel I’d indicated, lifting their fingers to trail along the pipes overhead and feeling the flow of the maz within. Ania and Jaesin follow, and once they’re a few paces ahead of me, I continue after them, commanding my deck to voice-call Davon. I hate to do it, truly hate to involve him in this mess to such a degree, but what other option do we have? This is bigger than me and what I want to do. Bigger than Davon and the danger I’m putting him in. Bigger than my issues, bigger than deciding to take a job I don’t truly want or pathetically following my friends to a city I know nothing about. Not like Kyrkarta, whose streets are like the lines of my fingerprints.
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