14

ZEBRAS IN CENTRAL PARK

Time and Place? Oh hell, I have no idea

There’s a saying: when you see hoofprints in Central Park, don’t go looking for zebras. Yes—a zebra could be the culprit, but in all likelihood it’s just another horse that’s thrown a shoe.

The point is, don’t go chasing after the exotic. Rule out the mundane first, and then worry about monsters.

At least the mercenaries who’d shoved a ball of chloroform down my throat had a sense of humor . . .

I was lying on my side—for some time, considering how my right arm and leg were going numb. And I was tied up; somewhere between the chloroform and dragging me wherever this was, the Zebras had had the brains to restrain me. I listened, but beyond the odd murmur of voices and clanging of metal—boxes maybe—I couldn’t pick out anything distinct.

I craned my neck to get a better look around and winced at the disoriented protest my brain shot me. Oh my God, worst hangover ever. No wonder chloroform works so well if it does this to your head.

Besides recognizing the extent of just how incapacitated I was, I found out two other things. One, I was in a cave, and two, if Rynn, Carpe, and Captain were here, they were not being kept nearby.

My stomach churned. There was only one reason you separated ­prisoners . . .

As if on cue, I heard footsteps coming my way.

As far as caves went, I’d wager I was in a surface cavern. The air didn’t have the stale, metallic taste that went with caves that were far underground. And though it was dark, I picked up some ambient light seeping through from outside. Rather than detract, it added a creepy veneer to the industrial LEDs the mercenaries had set up at even intervals in a circular perimeter around the cavern—at least the part I could see.

I tried to get a look around again, and this time, despite my chloroform-­induced hangover, I managed to crane my neck high enough to get a good look at the ceiling. No bats. This was perfect bat habitat—which meant the surrounding area was inhospitable. Okay, so we were still in the western Tibetan mountains.

The least they could have done was get me as far away as possible from the armor.

A moment later a flashlight blinded me, and the makeshift gate keeping me locked up was rattled. I shielded my eyes as best I could and counted five mercenaries. One of them motioned for me to step out.

Considering they weren’t actively trying to beat me up, I obliged.

They led me down a narrow cavern trail, me keeping my eyes on my feet so I wouldn’t stumble on the uneven ground. It was a fine line, keeping my eyes down enough that the floodlights didn’t blind me and not so much that I couldn’t see a damn thing.

Eventually the narrow tunnel opened into a larger cavern, floodlights set at various intervals showing a small table and chairs set in the center. I didn’t recognize the cavern, but I strongly suspected we were still under Tsaparang.

At least I could see. I glanced at the mercenaries behind me. One of them nodded toward the table and gestured with his gun.

Right. Sit at the table . . .

I sat down and waited. Well, if there was one benefit to all of this, the evil armor was no longer pinging my brain at every step of the way—though something told me it was saving its reserves now that it knew I was on to it.

I didn’t have much more time to ponder the armor’s motivations. The mercenaries guarding me all stood to attention as a man walked into the room and headed for the table. Dressed in the same black outfit as the other mercenaries, with the same white-and-black patch on the left corner pocket. He was older than the others—midforties to early fifties I guessed, tall and still muscular, with a crew cut that toed the line between blond and white. His expression didn’t give anything away, but it also didn’t betray any viciousness. More businessman than mercenary. Regardless, I recognized him. He’d been one of the false firemen in Vancouver.

He sat down at the table and waited for one of his men to bring him a pitcher of water and two glasses. He poured one for himself, then one for me, passing it over. I left it alone and kept my eyes on him despite the fact that I was thirsty.

“My name is Captain Williams,” he said, his South African accent coming through, “and you are Alix Hiboux, also known as the Owl.”

“If you say so,” I said, offering a shrug.

He didn’t smile exactly, but he did turn over the tablet he was carry­ing. “Currently you are a person of interest with the IAA. They claim you are dangerous and should be treated as a hostile.”

“The IAA has a bad habit of using creative license.”

He glanced up at me at that. “They also claim you are in possession of the location of Frank Caselback and Neil Chansky, the designers of World Quest who the IAA currently have hired us to obtain.”

That one I didn’t answer. There didn’t seem much of a point.

He glanced back down at the tablet, unperturbed by my silence. “To be honest, I’m more interested in your history with vampires. Most ­people who run afoul of vampires, especially one of Alexander’s repute, don’t come out quite so alive as you have.”

The research surprised me, though I did my best to hide it.

“The IAA was unable to illuminate me or my intelligence department why that might be—a failure on their part. When my clients fail to provide me with information, it makes me look.”

Not knowing what the end game to this conversation was, I went with glib. “I have a strong stomach and an expansive collection of gas masks.”

“Still, it’s an impressive show of ingenuity. Something the IAA is not fond of in their own ranks.” He made a tsking noise and sat back in his own chair, evaluating me. “Which has become their own problem, since it necessitates hiring out of their own ranks to get anything done.”

“Is this the part where you coerce me to tell you what it is you want to know? Because, honestly, I’d really prefer it if we could skip to that rather than discuss the IAA’s organizational failings.”

“And I find it rather interesting you make no mention of your Mau cat in your success with the vampires.” He turned the tablet around once again, to a photo of my cat, along with a write-up and what looked like dates beside it.

Despite my resolve not to give him anything, I leaned forward, all signs of my complacent, apathetic expression wiped from my face and replaced with a murderous look. “If this is you trying to give me incentives to play along—”

He tsked. “Oh, don’t mistake my intentions,” he said, turning the tablet back around. “I just wished to point out that where the IAA often misses important details, we do not.” He glanced up at me again. “Nor do we throw promising assets to the wolves.”

I kept quiet, not entirely sure where this was going and not wanting to rise to the bait.

Williams continued. “We are not the bad guys here. We have no interest in the IAA’s political endeavors or lowering ourselves to their level of operations.” He took a sip of his water. “You are accustomed to catering to the lowest common denominator—the IAA, the vampires.”

“No offense, but if you’re working for them, whether or not you lower yourselves to their tactics is a moot point.”

Williams narrowed his eyes at me—the first show of anything but business professionalism. “We’re professional mercenaries. They pay.”

I braced the arms of my chair, anticipating a switch in tactics . . .

But he didn’t stand up or otherwise threaten me. He simply picked up his glass of water and took another sip.

I don’t know what I’d been expecting exactly—overt threats, outward violence . . . What I saw was calculation.

And a gun. Williams wasn’t stupid. He’d removed one of his firearms and rested it on the table. Not exactly aimed at me but something that could very obviously be rectified if the need arose.

“Would you like to know what my predicament is?”

I didn’t answer. He continued anyway. “Here is the thing. I have a contract with the IAA to retrieve two of their wayward employees. I do not know why they want them or even if the manhunt is justified, but that is neither here nor there in my line of business.” His eyes were impassive. “I do have it on authority that you have also been looking for them.” He slid the tablet across the table again. It was me in Nepal in the back of the orange-and-pink jeep—not a bad shot, all things considered. “And both my intelligence and the IAA believes that you are very close to finding them.”

There didn’t seem any point in denying it. I shrugged. “What can I say? The IAA offered me a deal to find them. One they have no intention of ever delivering on, so . . . Oh, no, wait a minute, that’s not a deal, that’s coercion. My mistake.”

Williams sat back and smiled. “Yes. That does sound like the IAA. They are overly fond of strong-arming and coercion, which my intelligence department also says you do not respond well to. I can sympathize. Neither do I.”

“You still haven’t gotten to the point.”

He returned to the tablet. “You were kicked out of graduate school less than four months before completing your PhD. Since then you’ve managed to acquire countless supernatural and non-supernatural artifacts, survived a number of supernatural encounters. You are now considered one of the foremost experts on supernatural antiquities retrievals in the world, even by a reluctant IAA. By all accounts you are headstrong, argumentative, do not work well with others, and have issues with authority.” He glanced up.

“Point?”

“Yes. You might not be the type of asset the IAA values, but you are absolutely the kind of asset the Zebra Company hires.”

I frowned. What? That . . . was not what I had expected. Williams continued before I could wrap my head around the strange turn of events.

“We offer our employees incentives. Everyone is paid on salary, and we include a percentage of contracts completed and bonuses on top of that. We also don’t force anyone into missions, and unlike the IAA, I listen to my experts and work with people’s talents and faults, not against them. I don’t believe in beating obedience into racehorses; if you want obedience, you shouldn’t be in the thoroughbred business.” He smiled. “It’s why I’m still alive.”

I’d be lying if I said part of me wasn’t tempted. “You forget, I already worked with a corporation. We had a disagreement and it ended up with me almost shipped off to Siberia.” I nodded at the gun still on the table. “Somehow, I figure you guys do something worse.”

I heard someone snort from back in the shadows. Williams held up a hand. “A fair question. I would say I guarantee it, but that means little. What I will say is that you can ask any of them,” he said, gesturing toward the mercenaries waiting in the shadows. To me he smiled. “Our work is specialized and very dangerous. I don’t lie to my employees about that. Many people can and do die, yet many of the rest have been with me for years, despite offers from other outfits. You can’t buy that kind of loyalty.”

I swallowed. A year ago, maybe even two, and I might have considered it. Goddamn. I hate it when no one is the bad guy . . . and when the hell did I grow morals and a conscience? “Where are my friends and cat?” It was the only answer I could muster.

I expected him to scream, yell, demand. Instead, he gathered his tablet and stood up. “Take her to the others,” he said to his mercenaries as he strode across the cavern.

He was almost out of the cavern when he turned to say, “One more thing to remember, Owl, as you consider my offer. I may hate to see resources squandered like those IAA bureaucrats do, but I also eliminate threats. We are mercenaries after all.”

No sooner was Williams out of sight than two of his men stepped forward to collect me. No violence, no intimidation. I don’t know what weirded me out more—that the mercenaries were offering me a job or that they weren’t trying to beat a location out of me.

The guards gestured for me to place my hands behind my head. I obliged, since they had all the guns. They led me to the opposite end of the cavern before heading into another darkened passage, and I noted they’d fixed night-vision goggles on. I think I caught sight of a canvas tent and an assortment of boxes, but now that we were away from the surface light and the LEDs, I couldn’t be sure. Definitely heading farther away from the exit.

I heard metal clang somewhere in front of me before I was shoved inside, the metal door clanging back in place behind me—a larger and more secure cell than I’d been in. I heard the electric snap of the lock closing into place.

I reached out: bars. They’d already managed to install metal bars and make a jail cell.

I hate it when the other guys are efficient. What happened to leaving me tied up in a corner?

There was a loud meow before I felt something small brush up against my leg.

“Oh thank God you’re back,” I heard Carpe say. “That cat hasn’t shut up.”

Captain let out a series of chirps. I figured he was giving me some kind of an update, not that I understood cat. “He still hasn’t shut up,” I said.

“No, but at least the noises have changed.”

I couldn’t see, but still I felt for the lock. “Where’s Rynn?” I whispered.

“They took him away about fifteen minutes ago,” Carpe whispered back.

I swore. I didn’t like thinking about what these guys would do to Rynn, especially since they knew he was one of the supernaturals, but there was no sense or use in letting my imagination do its worst . . . not until we saw what condition they brought him back in. I turned my attention onto the lock.

“No good” came Carpe’s voice. I turned and tried to narrow in on his voice, but even though my eyes had adjusted, I still couldn’t pick him out in the dim room.

“I already tried the lock,” he continued. “So did your boyfriend. It’s not un-pickable exactly but might as well be.”

I stuck my hand out until I touched the curved alcove wall. If I had to guess, I’d say the spot they’d picked for a jail wasn’t large.

“Big enough for three or four people uncomfortably,” Carpe offered.

Smaller spaces meant fewer possible exits. I started toward him, making my way carefully across the uneven floor, using the wall as much as I could.

“To the left . . . and watch out for the—” Carpe started.

I stumbled and landed hard on my knees.

“Hole,” Carpe finished.

I decided crawling was the smarter option until I reached a shoe. We spent a number of uncomfortable moments in silence while I managed to seat myself in the oddly shaped and small alcove cum jail cell. Unlike where I’d woken up and been questioned, this spot most definitely did have the metallic and stale smell of the caverns.

“Did they interrogate you first?” I asked as Captain continued to inspect me now that I was closer to his level.

“I . . . ah . . . no. They haven’t bothered asking me anything yet, though they did take my computers. Won’t find anything on them, I don’t care how good their tech department is.”

“Please tell me you two managed to work out an escape plan while I was out?”

“Yeah, ah, potential for escape is low—at least until we get a break. Two guards on either end at all times, no delays in shift changes, and on top of that, only three of us can see.”

“Is there any good news in there?”

“Well, while we’ve been tied up and you’ve been out, the World Quest guys got back to us,” Carpe said.

I frowned at him—or figured I did. It wasn’t like I could see well. “I thought they took all your devices.”

“I have my ways.”

I sighed. From the way he caged his answer, I was almost certain I didn’t want to know what those methods were—or where they were. And somehow, when it came to Michigan and Texas’s demands, good news was about the last thing that popped to mind. “What did they say?”

“They gave me a meeting time. The caverns—it matches the one we were in.”

Where we’d found the gate. Not that I was certain I wanted to be anywhere near it . . .

“Tell them there’s a good chance we might have to raincheck. And while you’re at it, see if you can get Lady Siyu an update on the mercenaries, and tell her—” What? That we were close to getting the armor? Not a chance. “That there’s been a complication. Will explain later.”

“I am not contacting a Naga—oomph! All right, fine,” he said after I kicked him. “I’ll send the message. But even if the Dragon had his own private army, which he doesn’t, they’d still have to get here—”

“Just do it. You’d be surprised what the snake can do when motivated.”

We both fell silent as noises and the scrape of boots against stone reached us. A moment later, the doors clanked back open. There was an exhale of breath as someone was shoved in.

I held my breath. Rynn.

The door clanged shut and the electric lock snapped back into place. I waited until the boots had retreated before whispering, “Rynn?”

“I’m fine. A little worse for wear, but they got what they wanted out of me. Mostly questions about World Quest, and what our stake was in this.”

“What did you tell them?” I said.

“The truth more or less. That we were here for an artifact, but, considering your history with the IAA—”

“That if I happened to run across the dynamic duo I wasn’t above taking them out from under their noses and screwing their day up?”

“Something like that. I think they bought it. They strike me as more willing to deal than coerce, even with the supernatural.”

I nodded to myself more than Rynn. “I got the same impression off the one I spoke with too, Williams—or that’s what he wanted me to think.”

“Williams?” Rynn said, surprise in his voice. “Somehow I’m not surprised he’s here himself. We’ve never had the displeasure of meeting, but I know his reputation.”

Carpe however had a much different, fear-driven reaction. “Williams? He’s behind this?”

“How do you know who he is?” Rynn asked, sounding suspicious.

“Hello? World-class digital surveillance and hacker here, remember?”

“Yet I notice you had no idea they were coming,” Rynn said, the suspicion still layered in his voice.

“I’m exceptional, not omnipotent. You realize they have digital security too? An entire digital team. I mean, I still managed to get into their email, and a couple of their grunts are idiots—I mean, who streams porn on their phone while they’re supposed to be on a covert mission? Worms, Trojan horses, anyone?”

“Mercenary porn-watching habits are not relevant, Carpe!” I said.

“Sort of relevant. I mean—”

“At all!”

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence that passed over us. “The point I’m trying to make is I figured out how they found us,” Carpe said. “Remember the brunette woman wearing the white anorak who was harassing Hermes? Here,” he said. A dim LED light went on in his hand, which he angled toward me. It wasn’t a light but a small phone that fit into the palm of his hand and was flatter than anything I’d ever seen. How he’d managed to keep it from the mercenaries aside, I could see the employee shot clearly with the Zebra logo hat.

“Apparently Hermes isn’t omnipotent either,” Carpe said, “which strikes me as a bit ironic. Or he just figured this would keep things more entertaining. Fifty-fifty odds on that.”

Somehow, I didn’t think Hermes was the type. Then again, maybe watching me try to weasel my way out of a makeshift prison cell was his idea of a good time.

“And we don’t know that he didn’t,” Carpe insisted, sounding more nervous than he had a moment before. He turned what little light there was from the phone on his face. “Seriously, Williams is bad news, even amongst the mercenaries. Alix, he hates supernaturals as much as you do—or used to,” he said, shooting a surreptitious sideways glance at Rynn. “Except rather than express himself with witty quips and repartee, he expresses his distaste with violence and a wide assortment of firearms.”

“He offered me a job,” I said. When the two of them looked at me, I added, “I didn’t take it.”

Rynn shook his head. “We’ll worry about Williams if it comes to that. Right now we have a much bigger problem,” he said as he searched my face. I noted Carpe was also giving me a sidelong glance.

I looked between the two of them. “What? What is it you two geniuses aren’t telling me?”

It was Rynn who spoke. “I don’t think they just want the suit, Alix. I think the elves’ plan all along was to have it possess you.”

I went cold.

“There is no way that was the original plan—” Carpe started.

“Yet even you had to agree it now seems the most likely.”

Carpe was still fuming, but he didn’t offer any more argument.

That was what the elves had been hiding. I bet they’d even known it was in Shangri-La, which was why the World Quest time line had been ratcheted up. They hadn’t wanted me to find the suit; they’d wanted to deliver me to it.

“How did they even know it would want me? The suit only finds a host it likes every few hundred years—if that.”

“The archives,” Rynn said. “They probably have information on every victim the suit has ever taken.”

We both turned to Carpe. “I swear, I didn’t know!”

“What did you know?” I said, not bothering to hide the venom in my own voice. “And don’t even try to tell me you didn’t know something.”

“All I knew was that they wanted the armor,” Carpe said. After a moment he dropped his gaze and begrudgingly added, “And after you retrieved the book, it was suggested you were the best person to get it—provided no one stepped on the dragon’s toes this time.”

I lunged at him, the LED light casting sinister shadows where my arms reached for him. I don’t know what exactly I planned to do, but it involved violence. And to think I’d defended him to Rynn as my friend.

“And you didn’t think for one moment that me knowing any of that was important?” I straddled him, pinning him down. Good thing elves didn’t weigh much.

Carpe tried to block my hands as they went for his neck. “Well now it is, and so I’m telling you!”

“Alix!” Rynn said, wrapping his arms around me and dragging me off Carpe. When I was on the other side of our too-small cell he added, “That won’t help us get out of here any sooner—next time the armor might not be willing to let go.”

I took a deep, long breath. As if I’d needed any more incentive to get out of here . . . But Rynn was right. I could hit Carpe later.

We all heard the buzz of the cell phone, softer than a normal phone but noticeable in the close quarters.

“It’s Lady Siyu,” Carpe said, and handed it to me. How to broach the new predicament? Sorry, the elves planned on sending me to slaughter? You can tell them to keep their bargain and kiss my ass. . . .

“Keep it quick,” Carpe said. “I don’t want the Zebras picking up the signal.”

I made a face and held the phone to my ear. “Hello?” I whispered.

“Do you have the armor yet? Yes or no will suffice,” Lady Siyu said.

“Ah no, but there’s a complication. A big one—”

She cut me off. “Then I suggest you stop wasting time in a mercenary jail cell and find it.”

“Ah yeah, a little help with that would be much appreciated.”

There was a hiss. “They’re humans, therefore your problem. Now find a way to deal with them or you’ll be wishing you were back in that cell by the time I’m done meting out your punishment. And don’t return without the armor.” And with that, she hung up.

I stared at the phone then held it up to Rynn, his face illuminated by the dim LED. “Well. That went well.” Oh, if she only knew what she was saying . . . then again, showing up at the Japanese Circus wearing the armor might be giving Lady Siyu her just desserts.

I handed the phone back to Carpe. “No help from her. On to plan B. We need a distraction.”

I heard the intake of breath. “About that,” Carpe said. “Something Lady Siyu said gave me an idea, about humans being human problems.”

“What exactly do you have in mind?” Rynn asked, his voice guarded.

“Just that we do as Lady Siyu suggests—let the humans take care of our current human problem.”

Rynn caught on. “Which humans that want Owl dead did you have in mind?” Rynn asked.

“Oh, I think I know exactly the ones,” I said.

We heard the commotion outside well before the guards showed up outside our makeshift cage. Muffled, but the shouting and occasional gunfire were unmistakable.

When they did show up, they were moving quickly, and sweat was traveling down their faces. And there were only two. Two. That was even better than we’d anticipated. It had to mean the party-crashing committee Carpe leaked my location to had come in full force.

They grabbed Carpe first, as he was closest to the entrance, then made an effort to secure Rynn as well as they could with a pair of zip ties. Then, as if I was an afterthought, two guns were shoved in my face before the guards gestured toward the cavern tunnel.

“Wouldn’t be having problems with the locals, now, would you?” I asked, exchanging a look with Rynn, then Carpe.

All we had to do was stick to the plan. One of the guards positioned himself behind me and shoved me forward when he figured I was watching my companions too closely. I clenched my hands.

“What’s the occasion?” I asked. “And what about my cat?”

There was no answer. For one, they were professionals, but secondly, Captain was already following out of his own volition. Captain knows where his cat kibble is buttered. Still, answers weren’t the point; distraction was. “You taking us out to walk the plank or whatever else you mercenaries do for fun?”

“Those are pirates, Alix,” Carpe offered.

“Really don’t think this is the time to split hairs,” I said.

“Or give them ideas,” Rynn whispered.

There was a shove from behind. “Quiet, both of you,” one of the Zebras driving us said. I kept my mouth shut this time, but not because of the guard’s semi-empty threats. Beyond the sparse LEDs that now lined the cavern, ambient light from outside was trickling in. We were getting near the exit—as well as the fighting, from the sound of things. Confirming my suspicion, one by one the four mercenaries guarding us began taking off their night goggles. Though, still no sign of the . . . shit!

I didn’t wait for the mercenaries to shove me onto the ground—I dove and managed to take Carpe with me as four bullets struck the cavern wall where our heads were a moment before.

Jesus—those were awful close. “I thought the Chinese wanted to capture me.”

Carpe shrugged. “Depends what your definition of capture is. From what I gather, they were pretty pissed about the terra-cotta warriors.”

I flattened to the ground as another series of bullets struck overhead. The Zebras tried to line up their own shots amongst the gunfire, and we’d slipped to a much lesser priority.

“What did you tell them exactly?”

“That you were about to destroy what remained of the Kingdom of Guge in a massive explosion. Well, it worked. Didn’t it?” he added as my mouth dropped open.

“You idiot. Before, they just wanted to toss me into a jail cell. Now?” I swore and ducked again as another round of bullets struck.

“If you two wouldn’t mind?” Rynn whispered. “We did have something resembling a plan. I’d prefer it if we didn’t let it fall apart completely.”

Right. I palmed the syringe Rynn passed me. My guess was he passed Carpe one that was about the same.

The Zebras’ expansive collection of pharmaceuticals might make them immune to Rynn’s incubi talents, but that didn’t give them the ability to watch their pockets 24/7. I watched the guard nearest me, waiting for him to be preoccupied with the Chinese again.

“Oomph!”

I glanced beside me to see one of the guards Rynn was responsible for slump over. The one nearest me turned, searching for the noise.

So much for perfect timing. I jabbed him in the leg with the needle and watched as the fast-acting sedative took effect. He crumpled to the floor.

Hunh. No alarms raised, no screaming, no shouting . . . damn, this was actually going according to plan.

The bullets were still hitting the cavern wall ahead. Since the LEDs had been shot out, I grabbed the Zebra’s night goggles and fixed them to my face before peeking around the corner. I rolled back as another round of bullets struck the cavern wall dangerously close to where my head had been. I grabbed Captain by the scruff and pulled him back before he could stick himself in the line of fire.

Why was it I never had a carrier at times like this?

I handed Captain off to Carpe, neither of whom was particularly happy about the arrangement, while I crawled back to the downed Zebra to rummage through his jacket pockets.

“Not the time to loot the bad guys!” Carpe said.

I ignored him while I searched. Right pocket? No, left. There it was. I found the small mirror I was looking for, unfolded the attachment, and angled it around the edge of the cavern tunnel toward the fighting—without risking my head being shot off.

I swore under my breath as I caught sight of the black Zebra jackets tucked behind the crates, interspersed with the green, brown, and black on gray camouflage uniforms of the Chinese special forces—along with the assault rifles pointed at us.

I ducked back. “How does it look?” Rynn asked. I passed him the mirror so he could look for himself.

“That depends on what you think of the Chinese sending special ops after me. Apparently Carpe told them I was a budding antiquities terrorist in the making.”

Rynn swore. “Your reputation precedes you. There’s at least fifteen of them blocking the cavern entrance and who knows how many others lying in wait.”

“What are our chances of sneaking around?” I asked.

He shook his head. “If I was on my own, maybe I could get past the ops, but I’m not arrogant enough to think I can get by the military vehicles that will be blocking all routes out, not even on a good day. We’re as good as pinned.” He then crouched back around the rough cavern wall as more shots were fired.

He glared at Carpe. “Next time, leave out the exploding part.”

“Both of you stop it,” I said, while I tried to work out something . . . anything . . .

“We could let the Chinese take us. They’d get us away from the mercenaries,” Carpe started.

I shook my head though. “The IAA has ties there too. If we let the Chinese take us, it’ll only be a matter of time before they hand us over to either the IAA or the mercenaries.” I felt the ping in the back of my mind. I recognized it now, the armor, influencing me, sneaking into my thoughts.

Unfortunately, as much as I hated to admit it, I was pretty sure I agreed with the armor . . . or at least I sure hoped to hell it was still me thinking it was a good idea.

Regardless, I didn’t see a lot of options coming my way.

“Do either of you know your way back into the caverns?” I said.

From the look on his face, Rynn figured it out first. “That’s not an exit, Alix—that’s a death trap.”

“No, the Chinese special ops and the Zebras are our current potential death trap.”

“Only if they catch us.”

“Which they will if that’s the only exit.” I could see the indecision on Rynn’s face. “Look, you can berate me when I can’t get the portal open.”

“If any of us are left alive.” Rynn cut himself off as he pushed me and Carpe into the dirt a hairsbreadth before more bullets struck the wall above us. “What is it they say about jumping into frying pans?” Rynn asked, his expression far from happy.

“That sometimes things get real hot. Then you jump through a portal.”

Rynn rolled his eyes, but he went back to watching the Chinese and mercenaries. The fight was winding down as the mercenaries retreated, leaving us to the Chinese.

Rynn held up his hand and started counting down, folding each finger carefully. When he reached five he threw something round, metal, shiny . . .

Oh shit.

“Run,” he said as soon as it was out of his hands. We bolted back into the tunnels, both Carpe and I having the sense to grab the night goggles and torches from the downed mercenaries—fast—before following as fast as we could over the terrain. In my head I started counting.

“Explosives?” I whispered at Rynn, in case any mercenaries were still lying in wait. “Are you out of your mind? When the hell did I become the reasonable one and you the reckless one?”

He glanced back at me over his shoulder, not bothering to slow down, even with the uneven terrain. “You’re still the reckless one. Whenever you cause an explosion you have no idea what the hell you’re doing. Me? I know.”

“Kettle and pots are both black.”

We stopped as the cavern shuddered with the force of the grenade explosion. “Run,” Rynn said again, and shoved Carpe in front of him down an offshoot on the left of the cavern past the jail cells, going next himself and pulling me behind him, Captain close on my heels.

The caverns shuddered again. I glared at Rynn. “You knew what you were doing?”

“It hasn’t collapsed yet, has it?”

I swore as the aftershock continued. The hillside was not happy. “And I was trying not to level the lost kingdom!”

“Well, we can’t have everything we want, now, can we?”

“And why the hell do I have to go first?” Carpe shouted back at us.

“You’re the team canary,” Rynn said. “You’re testing the tunnels to make sure there isn’t anything nasty waiting.”

“Canaries die!”

“And it will be a cherished sacrifice for years to come. Now move, elf!” Rynn said, giving Carpe another shove. “The Chinese and the mercenaries won’t keep themselves busy forever, and that’s praying there aren’t any guarding the portal.”

Carpe shook his head but continued down the cavern corridor. The decline steepened quickly, and the pull in the back of my head, like a voice egging me on faster, told me we had to be getting close.

Worry about the armor once we’re through, Owl—

I thought I recognized a passage up ahead, if not from my memory, then from my current dubious guide.

There was shouting and gunfire behind us as the remaining mercenaries tried to deal with the Chinese and vice versa. It might have been my imagination, but I think they were getting closer.

“That’s it,” I said to Carpe as I made out a fork up ahead where light escaped. “The one on the left.” I pulled off my night goggles as the light brightened.

Carpe took it, and a moment later the ceiling widened as we spilled into the portal cavern.

There was a sole Zebra standing in the center, looking at us, his walkie-­talkie in one hand and his gun in the other, as if he was not quite sure what to do with either.

Rynn wasn’t afflicted with the same problem. He lost no time pulling out his own gun, then shot the guard.

The Zebra picked out a blue-and-red feathered dart from his chest and looked at it, then us, before falling over.

Voices were still coming through the walkie-talkie. Rynn grabbed it. After bringing it to his ear, he said, “Alix, not to rush you, but if we have any chance of escaping, you need to open that fast.”

I swore and scanned the equipment that now filled the cavern. High-tech: computers, UV lasers, lights, digital cameras, monitoring equipment. “Someone’s getting serious help from the IAA.” Still, there was no indication which one to activate first—the mural on the floor or the mural of elephants and tigers that decorated the wall.

I crouched down and searched for clues, any clues, that the Zebras might have uncovered. There were none.

Last time, trying the wall mural on its own had been disastrous. The floor, then?

I glanced up from the patterns at Rynn. He was manning the tunnel. “You need to be sure,” he warned. “A mistake could bring the entire place down.”

Easier said than done. “I hate treasure puzzles,” I said, more to myself than anyone else.

“That isn’t true. You love treasure puzzles—you always make me leave them for you,” said Carpe.

“In a video game, not in real life!” I yelled.

Carpe looked like he might say something more, but at that moment, a gas grenade dropped on the mosaic floor just outside the gate.

Rynn grabbed it and threw it back out the tunnel. He was rewarded with more shouting and screaming.

The floor or the wall? Something told me the floor was the place to start, with its lines of pink elephants and orange tigers—and if I was reading the manipulation right, so was the armor. Or it was my imagination trying to come up with a justification for an otherwise idiotic and completely unjustifiable action.

“If you’re going to do something, Alix, do it now!” Rynn yelled.

I was out of time. Damn, I hoped I was right.

I took out the bottle of chicken blood and water and drew in my breath. “What do you think, Captain?”

He meowed at me, but I thought maybe, just maybe, he looked at the floor. Trial by cat. That had to be as good as any decision-making skills I had at my disposal at this point.

Time to see just how serious this suit was . . .

I sprayed the designs on the floor and waited as the blood catalyzed the mural, spreading across the floor and animating the lines of animals as if they’d come to life. I held my breath and waited, but there was no explosion.

There was the ping of metal on the stone floor.

“Hurry, Alix,” Rynn called as he lobbed another gas grenade back up the tunnel.

“I have it,” I said as the two murals began to intertwine, the lines of animals mixing until they were a three-dimensional work of art, no longer clear where either mural started or finished.

I shielded my eyes as there was a shot of blinding light. When I looked, the murals were gone, a mirrored portal left in its place.

“I’ve got it!” I called.

Rynn abandoned his post and ran for us.

Carpe glanced at me and arched a single eyebrow. “Here goes everything,” he said, and stepped through.

Here went everything was right. . . . I grabbed Captain, who was sniffing at the portal’s edges, and held my breath. Then I stepped through.

I gasped as I fell through the portal. It didn’t hurt, but it rattled me, not unlike being pulled in a tire behind a speedboat over very rough water: hold on and hope you don’t capsize or fall off. I tried to open my eyes but had to close them; there wasn’t anything to focus on, just blurred colors and half reflections. Then, almost as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Warmth like a summer breeze brushed against my skin before I slammed into grass-covered ground beside Carpe, with Rynn in rapid succession behind us.

Captain ended up landing on his feet . . . on my back . . . because why not?

I felt more than saw him hop away. “Captain? Stay!” I tried, though I’m pretty sure it didn’t come out quite that way. I lay where I was in the nice, friendly, warm grass and hoped my head would stop spinning. It wasn’t like fresh-cut grass—nothing that manicured—but it smelled soft, with a warmth that shouldn’t have been possible, considering the air didn’t smell or feel like summer.

“Alix?” Rynn called from beside me, sounding worse for wear. There was a groan from Carpe as well, indicating he was as bad as, if not worse off than, Rynn.

I pushed myself up to my knees and blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots from my eyes.

“Okay, I’m seeing more,” I said, and tried to push myself up to standing. My head rushed and my vision clouded with the movement. Apparently disorientation wasn’t the only affect the doorway had. I abandoned standing and settled for rolling over to get a look at where we’d landed.

We were on a grassy hillside inside the main town, which I thought I recognized from the game—or the parts that I could remember.

The mountains, the cool air, the sunshine, even the scent of the warm spring air—not too cold but crisp and clean, like a spring day, not the start of fall that it should be; it was all familiar, which made no sense, since I’d only seen it in a video game. Maybe I was having a stroke. That happened: your mind filled in blanks when you were having a stroke.

The grass was so warm and inviting. I figured I’d just stay there and wait for my head and stomach to clear.

Someone started to shake my foot. “Owl?” Carpe said, sounding like he was about to puke.

“Leave me alone, Carpe. Five minutes, I swear, that’s all I need.”

The shaking didn’t stop though. “You need to look. Now. I think we have company.”

I turned my head. Oh God, I thought maybe it was me who was going to throw up . . . I noticed shadows moving in the grass near my face. I braced myself and lifted my head as far as it would let me.

Shit.

Two men were standing just inside the entrance to the courtyard. They were backlit by the sunlight streaming in from outside, but still I had a good idea who they were. The cowboy hat and the disparity in height left little to the imagination.

They stepped out of the shadows until two pairs of very worn and patched hiking boots were directly in front of my face.

I glanced up, shielding my eyes from the sun—or trying to. They wore matching unhappy expressions on their familiar faces; uncanny, considering how close they mimicked their game avatars, or was that vice versa?

But that wasn’t what made me want to puke all over again. It was the double-barreled shotgun that did that. The one leveled at my face.

“You just had to come through, couldn’t fucking leave it alone, now, could you?” Texas said.

I lifted my head a few more inches off the warm, inviting grass. Oh, why couldn’t I have gotten five minutes? “Surprise?” I said, and even managed a wave.

Texas didn’t look impressed. Then again, it easily could have been the spinning in my head. I closed my eyes and laid my face back down on the warm grass. I’d take what respite I could get; I had a feeling it was going to be short.