Chapter 15
Harrisford
It’s only minutes after Gwendolynne disappeared through Magecorp’s automatic doors, and I am already pacing.
It’s not time to panic just yet. Pudding’s voice, reassuring, echoes in my mind.
“I’m not panicking,” I say too quickly.
She tilts her head, just slightly. Of course you’re not.
I reach the end of the alley and peek into the road.
Everything is quiet. We’re in the business district of the city; during the week, it would be bustling, but it’s quiet on weekends.
A listless breeze gusts down the street.
Empty food wrappers spin along the ground, scraping the concrete pavement.
Reaching into my open satchel, I draw Pudding out and nudge her onto my shoulder. Her claws dig into the thick leather of my jacket. It’s chilly, so I turn my collar up in an attempt to shield her from the wind.
Normally, Pudding is the only individual I worry about. The fact I’m worrying about someone else is…different.
Gwendolynne looked good in that outfit, Pudding says after a beat. It suits her.
I’m chewing the corner of my thumbnail. “It does.” I don’t say what I’m thinking out loud: that I’m quite partial to how she looks in jeans, too. I’m not quite quick enough to shield my thoughts, but Pudding is gracious enough to pretend not to notice.
“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. If Gwendolynne 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.
I’m immediately choked; the building is filling with rolling waves of thick, pervasive smoke.
I pull my shirt over my mouth, trying not to breathe the noxious air.
After locating the fire escape, I bash open the door and sprint up the remaining twelve floors.
My heart is about to give out and my breath is coming in harsh pants as I reach the top of the stairwell on the fifty-second floor.
It’s a fucking mess. The roof has blown off, and smog clogs the air, and everything, everything smells like burning.
“Gwendolynne!” I bellow, my voice sounding not at all like my own. “Gwen!”
Everything is ash, and soot, and twisted bits of metal. Some of the walls are still standing, electrical cords trailing. Sweeping them aside, I struggle through the wreckage, scanning the rubble for any sign of her.
Finally I spot her; she’s lying beneath a pile of bricks. My mother’s suit is scorched, and her hair is all frizzy. I shove the rubble off her, pricks of panic crowding the edge of my vision, and fall to my knees amid the layer of ash.
“Gwendolynne,” I say, and her name comes out choked. “You’re okay. Tell me you’re okay.”
She doesn’t answer. I can’t quite catch my breath. When my fingers find her neck, I feel her fluttering pulse, and thank the lords, she’s breathing.
What the hell happened here? She’s alive, but…not moving. My heart is thumping so hard that it’s threatening to burst from my chest. “Gwendolynne.” I sweep some hair away from her face, and her eyelids flutter open.
“Briggs?” Her voice is weak as she squints up at me. She tries to sit up, but then groans and falls back down. I manage to catch her just in time, cradling her body to mine.
Her lips are moving, but I can’t quite hear. So I bend my ear to her mouth. “Your father,” she whispers, almost inaudible.
“My father?” I blink, confused, casting a look around. My gaze catches on something: a flash of singed white fabric.
Confusion clouds my mind. Even though he’s lying face down, I recognize the back of his head.
None of this makes sense. He was supposed to be in Wales; he wasn’t supposed to be in London, or at Magecorp HQ. I don’t know where Nathaniel is, and I don’t know why the roof exploded; all I know is that I need to get Gwendolynne to safety. I need to do it straightaway.
My hands are shaking, and I keep making errors, but I manage to tap out a message on my strap. It’s the only person I know who can help me: the same person who sent me the resignio spell.
Get me a dragon, I write. Now. Rooftop of Magecorp HQ.