I sprint to the elevator as though chased by a team of zombie IRS agents.
The elevator seems to take a thousand frantic heartbeats to get to me, and when I get inside, I stab the ground floor button hard enough to hurt my finger, then bite my nails all the way up.
The doors open.
Nero isn’t there.
Phew.
I sprint out of the elevator and through the lobby.
My coworkers give me confused looks, but no one stops me.
I bump into a woman as I exit the door. She looks familiar, but I pass her too quickly to register where I might know her from.
Spotting an empty yellow cab, I jump in front of it and frantically wave my arms.
The driver stops, rolls down his window, and yells something unintelligible about my sanity.
“I’ll give you two hundred dollars to get me to Brooklyn,” I yell back. “Three hundred if you manage to do it before sunset.”
He unlocks the door for me, and we speed away.
As we turn the corner, I catch a glimpse of Nero running out of the building.
Too late, asshole.
I pull out my phone and dial Felix.
“Sasha,” he says. “How are—”
“No time. Put me on speaker so Kit can hear.”
Felix does as I ask, and I start explaining what happened, lowering my voice to a whisper when I touch on the supernatural bits.
“Did you realize that the password you cracked is another one of those upside-down calculator words?” Felix says when I finish. “It’s SELL—which is so Nero, don’t you think?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “We don’t have time for that. I called because I was hoping you could send your robot to help me. It might be the only way to get to Baba Yaga without getting snared by her mind-control juju.”
“It does sounds like a good use for Golem,” Felix says. “Let me set him up and get ready.”
“Only Golem, not you,” I clarify. “For this to work best, I need you to control it from the safety of our apartment; otherwise, someone can get to you before the robot gets to Baba Yaga.”
I only twist the truth slightly. I also don’t want to expose him to more horrors.
“That makes sense,” Felix says with noticeable relief in his voice.
“What about me?” Kit asks.
“Can Baba Yaga take you over?” I ask.
“Probably,” she says. “But, like Vlad, I would be very difficult for her to control, meaning if she tries, she’d be weakened, which could give you a critical opening.”
“In that case, I’d love it if you volunteered to go,” I say. “But I’d totally understand if you’d rather not risk it.”
“Does this mean we’re friends now?” she asks cheerfully. “I have so much fun hanging out with you and —”
“Yes.” I’m glad Kit can’t see me roll my eyes. “We’re friends without benefits whether you join this mission or not. But if you want to enjoy having me alive as a friend for much longer, please join.”
“Good point,” Kit says. “You do still owe me a vision.”
“Yep,” I say, for once grateful to be owing a favor.
“Okay, then,” Kit says. “I’m in. But keep in mind, I will not kill anyone under the Mandate. Nor can I bring the Enforcers with me, or do anything else in my official capacity as a Councilor.”
Crap.
Baba Yaga, Koschei, and Gaius are all “under the Mandate”—meaning Kit’s hands will be tied.
“Kit can still help out with the Johnnies and the other goons,” Felix says. “I think it’s still worth your while to take her.”
“I agree,” I say. “Our main goal is to get Vlad, Lucretia, and Ariel out alive. Revenge is an optional gravy.”
“Fluffster wants to add something,” Felix says. “He says, ‘Don’t you dare die.’”
“Tell him I’ll do my best,” I say. “Now, to save time, can Kit and Golem meet me on Broadway? This way, my cab can pick them up without turning onto our street.”
“No problem,” Kit and Felix say in unison.
“Okay, hurry,” I say. “We’ll be there soon.”
They hang up, and I watch the cab navigate the rush-hour traffic with nervous anticipation.
To stay sane, I spend a few minutes doing meditative breathing; then, when I’m calmer, I try to get into Headspace.
It doesn’t work, which I guess makes sense.
Though the visions that helped me hack the passcode were short, there were ten thousand of them, so it’s feasible I ran out of juice.
If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to recharge by the time we arrive at our destination. And if there’s one kind of seer experience I could use more of, it would have to be power management.
I see my friends standing on the corner from a block away.
“Pull over next to that lady in a ninja outfit,” I say to the driver, pointing at Kit as we get closer. “The one next to a robot.”
Shrugging, the cab driver pulls up where I requested.
Jaded New Yorkers don’t seem to care about a metallic creature getting itself into a cab, but a few tourists gawk at Golem in fascination.
The driver cares even less than the city natives. He simply presses on the gas, and we screech forward.
Belatedly, it occurs to me that I should’ve asked Kit to bring my Focusall, in case my powers came back in time.
Oh well, I guess I’ll have to rely on my training.
“Put this in your ear.” Kit hands me a familiar-looking earbud.
“Figured we’d communicate the same way as during Ariel’s rescue,” Felix’s voice says from inside the earbud. “Tap the earbud to mute it, or tap it again to speak—or you can just speak to Golem. I’m using his eyes and ears as my own.”
“Sounds good,” I say to Golem. “You’d make a fortune if you could manufacture robots like this for the general public.”
“You need to have my technomancer powers to control Golem at the moment,” Felix says disappointedly. “But maybe I could make something everyone can use someday.”
“I tried calling and texting Vlad to stop him from going into that restaurant,” Kit says. “No luck.”
“Oh, I’m glad you did that.” I redden. “I was in such a rush I forgot to try such a simple solution.”
“I doubt he would listen anyway,” Felix says through the buds.
My phone rings.
It’s Nero.
I click “Ignore.”
A notification about a voicemail pops up, then a text message.
Surprise, surprise. It’s a combination of threats and pleas.
Nero doesn’t want me to go to Brighton Beach.
I don’t return the call or the text.
I’ll deal with my boss if I survive.
“I almost forgot.” Kit hands me an energy bar and a bottle of water. “Fluffster was worried you might not have eaten.”
“Fluffster was right,” I say and attack the sustenance with enthusiasm.
Eating and drinking keeps me busy half of the way. The second half, I spend attempting to reach Headspace, over and over—without any success.
At 6:04 p.m., we turn onto Brighton Beach and park.
“We better hurry,” Kit says, throwing cash at the driver as she exits the vehicle.
The robot and I rush out after Kit.
The sun is already setting.
“Put this on.” Kit hands me a black mask and puts one on herself at the same time. “No Enforcers to wipe memories after we’re done, so we have to worry about witnesses.”
Feeling like a robber from a heist movie, I put on the itchy mask and sprint for the chicken-leg-adorned entrance of the Izbushka restaurant.
Kit and Golem follow close behind.
The two burly bouncers are on the ground already, sleeping.
“Shit,” Kit says, catching up with me. “We may already be too late.”