Borderline (The Arcadia Project, #1)(96)

“Can you lift up the gate for us?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Caryl called out to her.

Inaya looked confused but sent the security guard on his way. I retreated from the front of the van as she climbed back in. “Okay,” she said. “What exactly are you planning to do with the van?”

“I was hoping you would drive it away for us,” said Caryl.

“If you think I’m not going to help set those poor people free,” Inaya said, “you are out of your mind.”

From behind me, I heard a derisive snort from Tjuan. It was comforting to see that Teo was right; Tjuan apparently found everyone irksome.

“Inaya,” said Caryl calmly, “I need you to drive the van away from here. It is huge and all but glows in the dark, and stealth may be required. We will call you when we need you to bring it back.”

“Tell me you did not just Miss Daisy me.”

Caryl and Inaya locked eyes. I could almost see the sparks of Inaya’s steel striking Caryl’s flint. If it had been a movie, they’d have lunged forward and started kissing, but instead Inaya sighed and threw up her hands.

“It’s your show, I guess,” Inaya said. “But you and I are going to have words later.”

She let us through the pedestrian gate before climbing back into the van and driving away. We all slipped on our fey glasses and scanned the darkened lot.

“Teo, stop fidgeting,” said Caryl dryly. “Millie, do you see anything? Feel anything?”

“I don’t,” I said.

“Then just start walking.”

I sighed, vastly uncomfortable. The last time I had let my intuition guide me, it had guided me off a roof. At the moment I felt nothing in particular, so I picked a random direction.

“Squeak, squeak,” said Teo.

“What?” I snapped.

“We’re a bunch of lemmings headed for a ledge.”

“Oh, I thought maybe my knee needed oiling.”

“Are you seriously critiquing my lemming sounds?”

“Are you seriously making falling-off-a-ledge jokes?”

Caryl’s gloved hand landed on the back of my neck, hard, and from the sound Teo made, I could only assume her other hand was on him somewhere. “Stop it,” she said, and then took her hands away quickly. “If you persist in bickering,” she said, “so help me I will give you both cancer.”

I looked over at Teo in alarm and mouthed, “Can she do that?” He just nodded, eyes wide. We both elected to shut up at that point.

By luck or fate, my general direction turned out to be correct. As soundstages go, stage 13 wasn’t particularly large, maybe a hundred by two hundred feet, and thirty feet high, topped by a gently peaked roof. Its main distinguishing feature was the intricate fractal web of Unseelie magic that pulsed and writhed around it. Even from a distance, even knowing what I was looking at, it took every ounce of my self-control to resist the siren call of Move Along, Nothing to See Here.

“Thirteen? Really?” said Teo.

“Most lots don’t even have a Stage Thirteen,” I said.

Caryl was studying Vivian’s spellwork so intently that even without expression it was easy to read her admiration. “I think that’s sort of the joke,” she said absently.

“Can you unlock it?” Teo asked.

“If we can find an entrance with the proper amount of wood around the door latch, then yes. But I don’t have enough power to rust metal unless I dissolve Elliott, and we all know why that’s a terrible idea.”

We circled the hangarlike structure until Caryl found a likely looking door at the top of a small flight of steps. She approached and gave it an exploratory touch with gloved finger-tips.

All at once she recoiled with a cry and pressed a hand to her chest. She turned and staggered down the steps toward us, leaning heavily on the rail with the hand that wasn’t curled into the fabric of her blouse.

“What is it?” I asked her in alarm.

She replied with a labored inhale, then released the rail just in time to politely cover a barrage of wet coughs. When she withdrew her hand, her glove was spattered with red.

“Oh, f*ck,” I blurted, backing up a couple of steps.

Teo, on the other hand, rushed toward her. In his panic he must have completely lost his senses, because he put his hand on the nape of her neck, where her tightly bound hair left her skin exposed. Her familiar had just a slice of a second to look terrified before flying into a thousand pieces.

“Elliott!” I called out stupidly as his fragments dissipated like smoke.

Caryl stumbled a few feet away from Teo, drawing in quick, shallow breaths. Then she sank down on the pavement and clawed at her chest. “Stupid, stupid, stupid . . . ,” she gasped. “I shouldn’t have touched it!”

Teo knelt next to her. “Carrie, it’s okay. It’s not your—”

“And you shouldn’t have touched me!” She rounded on him, savagery lending her damaged voice a genuinely frightening snarl. This set off another paroxysm of coughing; this time both gloves turned gory. Teo stepped back, speechless for once.

“Well,” said Tjuan, standing very still. “Now we’re f*cked.”

“We are under no circumstances f*cked,” I said firmly. I took a couple of steps toward Caryl, who was struggling to take deep, even breaths. “Caryl,” I said. “What exactly happened at the door?”