Chapter Sixty - Gun Out

  Jenny gestured Sharp back, then tugged one of her handguns out of its sheath. "Guns out," she said.

  "Really?" Sharp asked.

  "I'm with her on this one. Better have a weapon on hand and not need it than the opposite," I said.

  Sharp blinked at that, but she pulled out a gun from her pack anyway, a compact little shotgun. It only had a four round magazine, but it would pack a decent punch even if it wasn't too subtle. Usually, by the time bullets were firing, the time for subtlety was past, in any case.

  Just in case, Sharp got a handgun and some straps out and attached it in its sheath to her outer thigh.

  Alyssa very noticeably didn't pull out anything that looked like a weapon. At least, until Jenny noticed and grunted, then found a rather dainty pistol for the young mage to hold onto. "I don't need it," she said.

  "Yeah, and you won't faint after casting six combat spells in a row?" Jenny asked.

  There was a story implied there. Alyssa glared, but took the handgun all the same. "I should take the lead on this one," she said. "I can sense any magical traps."

  "Tsk," Jenny said, but she nodded and stepped to the side. "You first, then the kid and her cat, then me. No names from here on out."

  "No names?" Sharp asked.

  "Might be cameras. They'll be old as shit and maybe not connected to anything, but a skilled netrunner might be able to grab a still or two anyway, or pick up on what we're saying."

  "Then shouldn't we cover our faces too?" Sharp asked.

  Jenny shrugged, then pulled out a scarf from her bag which she wrapped around her lower face. It wouldn't be enough to stop someone determined from IDing her, but then, nor would covering her entire face. She was distinctly short and with a unique build. So was Alyssa, but she was uniquely tall and gangly.

  But sometimes it wasn't about perfect cover, it was about having cover good enough that following your trail would be too much work for the effect to be worthwhile.

  "Let's go," Jenny said.

  And so we stepped into the stairwell, with Alyssa scouting just a few paces ahead. The stairs were illuminated by red Exit signs at each landing, and with the centre of the staircase left as an open space that someone could look down, it actually gave us a fair bit of lighting.

  The stairs only climbed up one level, to a small landing with a metal door with the words Sub-Level One painted in blocky letters on its front.

  Alyssa brought her hand close to the door, letting it hover there for a moment before nodding. "Safe," she said. She grabbed the handle and pressed down on the latch, then slowly opened the door while Jenny moved to the side to aim past.

  The door led into a corridor.

  It was surprisingly anti-climatic. We stepped in, and found ourselves in a space filled with stale air and... nothing. The walls were painted concrete, white and a pale blue. The ceiling was that sort of floating ceiling found everywhere, and the floor was covered by a squeaky sort of linoleum.

  This could have been a back corridor in a hospital, or an apartment complex, or the back of a mall. There was no dust or grime, the neon lights didn't flicker or hum, the pipes that must have been in the walls, didn't rattle or clang.

  Alyssa took a slow breath, then muttered, "This place is… heavy."

  Jenny frowned. "What does that mean? 'Heavy?'"

  Alyssa didn't answer immediately. She walked forward, careful, deliberate, like she was moving through deep water. "Old magic. Thick, layered, and not just from one caster. This isn't just some guy's abandoned basement lab." She exhaled slowly. "It's like… a graveyard of spells."

  "Is that bad?" Sharp asked, peering around, her fingers twitching around the shotgun's grip.

  "It's complicated," Alyssa said, stepping forward and trailing a hand along the wall. "Magic leaves an imprint. If it was cast here for long enough, if it was strong enough, the space it was cast it will have a sort of... memory of the spellwork, even if it's no longer active. It can make recasting a spell much easier. Stay close. Don't touch anything."

  We all watched, both Alyssa and our surroundings, as she knelt and cast something that took several minutes. When she was done, a small flock of moths, none bigger than my forepaws, fluttered out ahead of her and disappeared into a thin mist. More appeared in her hand and flew in the same direction, right towards a wall.

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  "That way," she said. "I suppose we'll have to find a way around."

  "Let's just grab the package and bounce," Jenny said, and for once I agreed with the girl.

  The corridor stretched out ahead, doors spaced evenly apart. They were all shut. They didn't have any stencilling on them, or marking hinting at what was behind them. That's when I noticed it. There was no signage here. No ads. No posters, graffiti, no stick-figure symbols warning people about exits or washrooms.

  I flicked my tail, ears twitching. Something felt off. The hairs along my spine bristled.

  "We should move fast," I said.

  Sharp nodded and fell in line behind Alyssa, who was leading them with careful steps. Jenny took the rear, gun raised, eyes sharp.

  Alyssa exhaled, fiddling with the pendant at her chest. "This place… it doesn't just have memories. It has intent."

  "Creepy," Sharp said. "I used to have fantasies about being in a spooky place with a few cute girls, but in those I always saved them from the big bad monster, and now that we're here, I'm second-guessing my dreams."

  "Anyone ever tell you you're weird?" Jenny asked.

  "A few times."

  "Anyone ever tell both of you to shut up?" Alyssa asked.

  Jenny snorted. "Alright. If your little moths know where to go, we follow."

  The moths flitted ahead, their faint glow reflecting off the linoleum floor as they guided us deeper. They didn't hesitate, didn't waver, moving through the air like they already knew the way.

  We followed in silence. At the first intersection, I meowed at Sharp and the others, catching their attention. "Sharp, mark the walls with something. So we don't get lost."

  "Right, gimme a sec," she said before reaching into a pocket and fumbling out a large marker. Jenny paused to watch, then nodded as Sharp drew an arrow at about head-height. "That's okay, right?" she asked.

  "Shouldn't interfere with anything," Alyssa said. "Come on, this place isn't infinite, nor is it a maze. We'll get to the vault soon enough."

  The corridors twisted and stretched ahead, identical walls and floors making every step feel wrongly familiar. Sharp kept marking the way, but the sense of being watched settled over me like dust.

  Jenny's grip tightened on her gun. "I don't like this."

  "No one does," Alyssa muttered. "We keep moving."

  The moths led us through a wider hall, where the walls were lined with reinforced doors. Some had digital locks, others manual ones, but every single one was shut tight. No signs of tampering. No signs of escape. No numbers or letters on the keypads.

  Alyssa inhaled sharply. "This isn't a storage wing. It's a containment unit."

  Jenny stopped mid-step. "Containment for what?"

  The silence stretched out. The air felt thicker now, pressing against us like the walls were leaning in. I flicked my tail, ears flattening. The hairs along my spine prickled, and my claws flexed against Sharp's shoulder.

  Alyssa turned in place, her fingers twitching toward her pendant. "Something that wasn't meant to be let out."

  Sharp squinted at the rows of reinforced doors."I mean… everything in a vault is technically 'contained,' right? Maybe this is just, like, a really secure part of the facility?"

  Jenny huffed. "Yeah, sure. And I'm a billionaire. These aren't storage lockers, kid. These are cages."

  I didn't like that phrasing.

  Alyssa stepped toward the nearest door, her fingers ghosting over the surface. She muttered something under her breath, and a wave of purple energy ran from her fingertips across the metal. Symbols, faint but still active, flared up along the surface of the door in a dim, warning-red glow.

  "Still powered," she murmured. "Still warded."

  Jenny shifted her grip on her gun. "So what, this place isn't as dead as we thought?"

  Alyssa's lips pressed into a tight line. "It's been abandoned, yes. But not deactivated."

  Sharp gestured at the glowing symbols. "Okay. What do they say?"

  "No idea," Alyssa said. "There are three dozen common magical scripts and a hundred more private and hidden ones. This isn't one of those I can read."

  Alyssa raised her hands, and the fluttering little moths guided us to the far end of the room where, past several branching corridors leading out of the hall, there was a door. A large wooden door, looking entirely out of place in the concrete and metal space.

  "That's our destination," she said. "Let's grab the goods and go."

  ***