by Martha Carr
Corian stepped up behind them to get a better view of their next move. “Persh’al wouldn’t have told us he could do it if he couldn’t. And we have no reason to lie to you about any of this.”
“Well, hey. Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.”
“Of course.” L’zar spun away from the windows on the opposite side of the room and headed over to them. “I suppose you’re waiting for us to prove ourselves one more time, hmm?”
Rhynehart ignored him and nodded at Cheyenne. “You’re up.”
“Yep.” She pulled out the two extra access badges Persh’al had reprogrammed for this door specifically. He said right one first, left one second. She swiped the first badge across the security panel. The red light blinked yellow for two seconds, then flashed green once, so she swiped the second badge, and the process repeated. “You know, I’m really curious now.”
“About what?” Rhynehart swiped his badge next, the last one they needed, and waited.
“How come we didn’t need three different badges with high-level clearance to get to L’zar in the Dungeon?”
The agent raised an eyebrow as he stared at the blinking yellow light on the panel. “L’zar gave everyone a major headache.”
Behind them, L’zar snorted. “I do love being spoken about as if I’m not here.”
Join the club. Cheyenne watched Rhynehart intently.
“But he never put up much of a fight. So I guess no one expected him to.”
“And Venga did, huh?”
Rhynehart pointed at the dent in the metal where it had been shoved toward them from the other side. “Case in point.”
“Should we be concerned that the door still isn’t open?” Corian offered, frowning at the panel.
The light still blinked yellow.
“Total faith in the troll hacker, huh?” Rhynehart shook his head. “If this doesn’t go through—”
“Hey, he said he can do it. He’ll do it.” Cheyenne pulled the activator coil from her coat pocket and attached it behind her ear. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly during the split-second of syncing with her magic. “Just give it a little longer.”
“What are you doing with that thing?”
“Just double-checking.” The lines of code scrolling across Cheyenne’s vision as she stared at the security panel didn’t pick up any issues in the system’s alarms. No warning signals. “Just let it run its course.”
“Well, that course better finish up right about fucking now,” Payton said, staring at another monitor in front of her at the booth. “We got incoming.”
“Incoming what?” Rhynehart shouted, turning to stare at her.
The goblin shrugged. “Probably a real prison guard and not a fake one.”
“This is my fate, isn’t it? I’m surrounded by smartasses all the time.”
“Don’t act like you’re not one of us,” Yurik muttered.
“How much time do we have, Payton?”
“Forty-five seconds. Maybe.”
“Christ. Were you gonna tell us any sooner?”
“You know what?” The goblin lifted both hands from the security booth and stepped away. “Feel free to come up here and play lookout yourself. I’m obviously fucking it up.”
Rhynehart said, “Cheyenne, try the badges again.”
“It’s still thinking.”
“Yeah, or it needs a reboot. Swipe the damn badges.”
“No.” Cheyenne’s eyes darted back and forth as she read the scrolling code. “Persh’al’s rewriting the security clearance as we stand here arguing about it.”
“Why the hell would he do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Probably so he can override all the other roadblocks in the system at the same time. We needed someone in here for him to finish the rest of it.”
“Count’s down to thirty now,” Payton droned. “You know, just a guess.”
“I can hide us,” Corian offered.
“The fuck you can.” Rhynehart whirled on the disguised nightstalker. “Everything on this side of that glass door is rigged to pick up magic. One little spell, and we’ll be shouting at each other over breach alarms. Is that the Plan B you wanna go with?”
“I never said there was a Plan B.”
“They won’t be able to get to us in time anyway,” L’zar said, lifting a finger toward the lock panel. “I just wanna get inside.”
“Fifteen seconds, and they’re turning the corner.”
Cheyenne swatted her father’s hand aside. “L’zar, don’t.”
“My patience seems to have run dry.”
“It’s almost—”
The light on the panel finally flashed green, the lock clicked, and the door popped open with a soft hiss.
“Lovely.”
“Get out or get fucked,” Payton growled. “They’re coming.”
L’zar, Corian, Cheyenne, and Rhynehart had enough time to slip through the heavy metal door into the chamber beyond. Cursing, Tate, Yurik, and Bhandi ducked behind the security panel as the metal door shut behind the others. The real FRoE guards passed in front of the checkpoint two seconds later. The closest one gazed around the room and spent an unusually long time studying Payton.
She stared back at him, both of her human-looking eyes moving together as she looked him up and down. “I got somethin’ on my face, or what?”
Whether or not he could hear her, the guard jerked his chin at her, then frowned at Jamal and his long human ponytail before both guards kept walking down the hall and disappeared from view.
“I don’t get it.” Payton pressed her knuckles down on the booth’s counter. “I have one goddamn eye, everybody stares. I wear a mask with two of the fuckers working like normal, as far as anyone can tell, and everybody stares. This is bullshit.”
“Human, right?” Yurik asked from where he huddled under the counter. “Maybe he was into you.”
“You want me to kick you in the mouth, or what?”
“Hey, I wouldn’t mind watching that.” Bhandi stood from beneath the other side of the circular booth and dusted off her hands.
“Kick the troll, Payton.” Yurik chuckled and offered Tate a hand up to pull him out from under the counter. “Both of ‘em, if you want.”
Jamal stared at the monitors in front of them and grunted. “You three are stuck in here with us now.”
“Yeah, thanks but no thanks, Jamal.” Bhandi headed to the metal door and grabbed the handle.
The handle jammed when she tried to turn it, and she jiggled it up and down before snatching her hand away with a snort of disgust.
“Because the only magicals with fake security clearance are on the other side of the door. Awesome.”
“They’ll be fine.” Yurik waved her off and sat in one of the hard, ridiculously uncomfortable plastic chairs against the wall. “Guess we get a laid-back day on the job, huh?”
Tate folded his arms and stared at the dented metal door, chewing the inside of his bottom lip. “We better be getting paid for this.”
Chapter Seventy-Four
The second the door closed behind them, Cheyenne leaned her head on the metal door and listened. No shouting. No running. No alarms. “I think we’re good.”
“Unless someone does something stupid out there.” Rhynehart scowled up at the four security cameras mounted high on the walls around the massive circular room. They’d all turned off the second Persh’al’s manufactured security clearance passed through the lock panel and opened the door. “Which they might, knowing Bhandi.”
“She’s not as crazy in the field as she is in a tavern.”
He snorted. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Yeah, well, I do. They’ll just have to deal with it and improvise.” Cheyenne turned away from the door and examined the huge chamber in front of them. “So, this is the Hatch, huh?”
“The dunk tank.” Rhynehart folded his arms. “And we were supposed to have three more agents in here. Not exactly running smoothly.”
L’zar st
rolled casually around the mesh walkway on the upper level. He stared over the narrow railing at a gigantic metal drum that took up the entire level below them and left only three feet of walking space around the perimeter. “You should relax.”
“Oh, yeah?” Rhynehart gestured at Corian. “’Cause your furry friend over there just told me straight up there isn’t a Plan B.”
“Your agents are here as backup and support, Mr. Rhynehart. They aren’t required for this part of Plan A.”
The FRoE agent shivered. “Drop the Mr. part, huh? It’s like none of you get it when someone tells you their name.”
Cheyenne and Corian exchanged glances across the circular walkway.
L’zar stopped opposite the door they’d entered, where the walkway opened to a narrow, steep set of mesh stairs, and wrapped his long, slender fingers around the rail on either side of him. “You’re not required for this part either, Rhynehart.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here. And I really don’t wanna be, so let’s get a move on.” The agent glanced nervously up at the security cameras aimed down at the giant metal vat with a heavy, hinged lid sealed tightly around the top.
L’zar took one step down the stairs, his gaze never leaving the thick steel wheel lock on top of the lid. “No codes or security clearance for this part, correct?”
The agent scratched his head and watched L’zar warily. “As far as I know, not needed.”
“That looks manual to me,” Corian added.
“Indeed it does. Let’s go get our inmate, hmm?” L’zar headed slowly down the stairs, studying the giant metal vat. His shoes hardly made a sound on the metal mesh of the stairs.
“Wait.” Cheyenne stepped to the rail around the circular walkway and looked straight down at the sealed lid of the metal tank. “They’re keeping Venga in that?”
L’zar chuckled. “Honestly, if I were responsible for keeping him locked up, I’d put him in here too. This will be fun.”
Cheyenne looked at Corian in confusion, and the nightstalker shook his head.
The drow thief reached the bottom level and skirted around the metal drum until he found the narrow metal ladder on the side and climbed up to the top. He moved like a spider up that ladder, easily reaching the lid and moving carefully around the narrow walkway encircling the top. He paused briefly and looked up at Corian with a secretive smile. “We didn’t have a specific time limit on this endeavor today, did we?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Corian muttered. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing at all.” L’zar’s shoes clicked softly across the top of the tank’s lid as he headed for the wheel lock at its center. “I would have enjoyed breaking a record with this one.”
When he reached the wheel lock, a deafening, hollow bang came from inside the vat. Rhynehart jumped a little, Corian folded his arms, and L’zar chuckled. Cheyenne blinked and stepped away from the rail. “Maybe we should focus on what’s inside that thing instead of how many records you can break. ‘Cause this doesn’t sound very—”
Another echoing bang from inside the metal drum, then another, followed by what sounded like sandpaper and a metal pick scraping the tank’s interior wall. An involuntary shiver went down Cheyenne’s spine.
The second L’zar’s long fingers closed around the curving bar of the wheel lock, the noise inside the tank stopped. Grinning, he pulled fiercely on the wheel, which gave stiffly at first but then spun faster under his control. The lid’s seal broke with a hiss, and the drow thief hauled the massive, heavy metal lid up and over to rest it on the thin rail surrounding the top of the vat. Then he got down on all fours at the edge of the opening and peered inside. “Hello, old friend.”
A bellowing roar burst from the tank into L’zar’s face. The drow snapped his fingers to remove his human illusion, and his white hair fluttered away from his high cheekbones, but he stayed where he was and grinned even wider.
The creature inside the tank snarled and thrashed, filling the multistoried room with metallic bangs, scraping, and a long, drawn-out hiss. Then a deep voice that sounded more like a roaring bear than a voice echoed inside the vat. “Release me!”
“Yes, that’s precisely why we’re here.” L’zar cocked his head as the thing inside the vat pummeled the metal walls, roaring and snarling.
Cheyenne frowned at the clink of metal against metal her drow hearing picked up beneath the ruckus. They put this magical in a tank with no light or sound and chained him down inside? She stepped to the rail again and peered over the edge into the open vat. A mass of green-brown scales, glinting claws, and thick iron chains writhed inside the tank, filling nearly the entire space. “Shit, he’s big.”
“Indeed.” L’zar scrambled sideways along the opening and tilted his head in the other direction. “And pissed off.”
“If you came here merely to laugh at me, Weaver,” Venga roared, his voice crashing through the circular room, intensified a hundred times by all the metal, “you can piss off.”
“Come now. I’m allowed to have a little fun.”
Venga pounded so forcefully on the inside of the tank that a round bubble popped out along the smooth outer wall, filling the room with the screech of twisting metal.
“Get him out, L’zar,” Corian warned.
“Oh, there’s suddenly a time limit?”
“You know exactly how long we have.”
Venga roared and thrashed beneath the thick, sliding chains coiling around his body.
“I’m well aware, Corian. Does anyone happen to have a key?”
Rhynehart’s mouth popped open, and he glanced quickly at Cheyenne before shouting over the balcony, “Why the fuck would there be a key? It’s not like anyone in this prison planned on letting him out!”
“Hmm. Well, then.” Steadying himself in his crouch with one hand pressed firmly against the metal walkway, L’zar lifted his other hand in front of him and moved his fingers in quick, precise twists.
Rhynehart pounded on the railing. “Hey! I said no—”
A bright silver flash illuminated both L’zar’s hand and the inside of the tank, then the mass of thick iron chains slithered off all at once and clanged noisily to the floor. Venga roared again and pounded both sides of the tank with his fists, buckling the walls outward.
The bright light filling the chamber cut off with a sharp pop, replaced by low red light and a blaring siren drowning out everything else.
“Goddammit!” Rhynehart gripped the rail and leaned dangerously toward the tank below. “What part of no fucking magic did you not understand?”
L’zar turned slowly around to look up at the agent and raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t have a key.”
“Fuck.” Rhynehart vigorously scratched the back of his head and glanced at the metal door into the chamber while the security siren screamed at them. “We weren’t supposed to have to fight anyone for this.”
“Then I suggest we leave now.” Corian vaulted over the rail and landed beside L’zar on the top of the tank with a metallic thud.
“Jesus.” Rhynehart pushed away from the rail and headed for the door leading to the security checkpoint.
Cheyenne leaped over the rail and joined her father and Corian on the tank. They looked up at her with barely concealed smiles, then she glanced at Rhynehart. “You might wanna hurry down the stairs.”
The second the agent looked down at the vat again, Venga erupted in another bellow and banged the tank with what sounded like a dozen fists at once.
“No.” Rhynehart shook his head and grabbed the door handle. “Fuck that thing in there. Now my people know we’re here, and I gotta go cover our tracks. Make sure at the very least this doesn’t fall back on my agents out here. Hopefully not on me, either, but if you’re serious about not fighting anyone—”
“Then go,” Corian shouted over the obnoxiously blaring siren. “Let Cheyenne know when you’re out of here.”
“Right.” Licking his lips, Rhynehart nodded at Cheyenne, then shoved the door open a
nd stepped into the next room.
“Rhynehart, what the fuck?” Bhandi shouted on the other side, then the door closed, and that was all the conversation Cheyenne got to hear.
“Venga,” L’zar called in a warning voice. “We’re coming in there, and then we’re getting you out. I would very much like to stand beside you in one piece, and I have no desire to have to fight you in order to break you out of this fell-damn prison. We’re running out of time.”
The scaly, upright-standing magical twice the size of Nu’ek the Golra stopped thrashing and looked up at L’zar with glittering all-black eyes. Cracked, scaly lips parted to reveal razor-sharp teeth, then the growling voice echoed up from the floor of the tank. “You have twenty seconds, Weaver. Then I rip you apart.”
“That’s plenty, thank you. Corian?”
“Yeah.” They both jumped down into the vat beside Venga, who stood at least three times as tall as either of them, and sneered up at Cheyenne.
The halfling rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
Her black Vans landed with a metallic thud on the floor of the tank, and she looked up to take in Venga’s green-brown and light-gray scales and the four muscular arms above two legs as thick as tree trunks. Something smacked the other side of the tank, and Cheyenne peered around the giant lizard-thing to catch a glimpse of the source. Is that a tail?
“Here.” Corian grimaced as his portal flared in front of the tank wall. He stretched his arms apart with a growl and ripped the shimmering window of light higher and wider to accommodate Venga’s gargantuan size. Then he raised his eyebrows at Venga and snarled, “Nineteen seconds. Go!”
With a booming laugh that made Cheyenne think her brain would be permanently scrambled, Venga stalked through the abnormally large portal into the empty lot just outside Chateau D’rahl’s property line. His tail whipped the tank as he moved. L’zar would have been flattened against the side if he hadn’t darted out of the way at the last second. He grabbed Cheyenne’s wrist and dragged her through the portal behind him.