“Do you think she’ll be out soon?” I pace to the end of the alleyway again.
Relax, Harrisford. She’s probably still going up in the lift.
My strap pings, and I immediately check it. It’s Gwendolynne. I let out a breath and tap open the message.
Briggs. I need the resignio spell to get in.
“She’s there,” I say to Pudding. “In front of the door.”
I know speed is of the essence so I send her a simple thumbs-up, then text my contact.I need another resignio, I type. My fingers feel stiff and my stomach is churning.
The message comes back almost instantaneously.Two in two days? Whatcha up to, man?
My chest twists in irritation, and I tap out a grumpy reply.Cut the questions. It’s my job to pay. Your job to provide.
All right, all right, settle down. Wire me the money and I’ll get it right to you.
It takes several minutes for the money to transfer—another third of my trust fund, gone—and for the spell to land in my account. I forward it to Gwendolynne, hoping desperately that it works.
There’s radio silence from her, but I try not to message again. I know she is in a precarious position and I don’t want to risk distracting her. But before long, I can’t stand it anymore, so I send her a message.Did it work?
A red dot pings back.Message failed to send.That’s good, I tell myself. She must have made it into the vault.
Now all I can do is wait.
The seconds crawl by, agonizingly slow. My chest hurts and I feel like I’m going to vomit. This was a bad plan. A very bad plan. IfGwendolynne gets caught and my father figures out she’s working with me, then…
A shiver rolls through me, and I brace myself with one elbow against the graffiti-covered wall.Breathe, Harrisford, I think, but my chest is tight and everything around me is spinning.She won’t get caught.
I’ve witnessed the wrath of my father before. Too many times. And I definitely don’t want Gwendolynne subjected to it.
And then I see it. Out of the corner of my eye. A sleek black car, a chauffeur in the front seat, the vague outline of a man in the back seat blurred by the tinted windows.
It’s exactly the kind of car that Magecorp executives use.
What the fuck? I’d checked our family calendar, and Father should be out of town. Was he lying? I pluck Pudding off my shoulder and plonk her down on the seat of my bike. Bile rises; I taste it in the back of my throat. “Wait here,” I say, breathless, and start running.
The car pulls up to the curb, stopping in a No Parking zone, and the suited man inside steps out. I skid to a stop—it’s Nathaniel, the CEO, not my father, who is striding through the Magecorp entrance.
“Shit!” The word bursts from my lips. This isn’t much better—my father is Nathaniel’s lackey. And whatever shady thing my father is up to, Nathaniel is up to too.
My insides are a mess, my organs writhing.
Harrisford, Pudding says, her voice a warning.Don’t. You’ll only make things worse.
I bury both hands in my hair. “But Nathaniel’s just gone in, Puds, and Gwendolynne—”
My instincts are going off, my panic is rising, and some indistinct intuition is telling me that something has gone wrong.
And then, it happens…My worst fear, confirmed. The roof of Magecorp HQ explodes.
The entire top floor shatters, flames flaring, black smoke billowing up into the blue arch of the sky. Debris rains down, and I don’t hesitate before I bolt full speed toward the building.
The alarms are sounding as I dash through the door, my heart pounding like a drum in my throat. My strap pings, a delayed message coming through from Gwendolynne.What should I be looking for?My chest constricts. When the hell had she sent it?
Fortunately, the lift is still functional. I fling myself in, jabbing repeatedly at the top floor button as the doors close—too slowly.
But something is wrong with it. The lift grinds to a halt, its gears creaking, just when I reach floor 40. The doors struggle to open, but I manage to wrench them apart just enough to get through and burst out into the hall.
