City buildings were a rarity in Chrome—so much so that the only time Mira had ever had the pleasure of being in their presence was on the rare occasion she’d had to accompany her father into the capital. Buildings only ever got so high in the outskirts towns; you were lucky to find one with more than two floors. Educational structures aside, there was no such thing as a skyscraper, so when she and her brother had first arrived in the Central District and laid eyes on the library, Mira thought she was dreaming.

The Cardinal satellite building was just as grand, with a hint of ominous energy that it sent a shiver down Mira’s spine. Four stories tall with large windows clear enough that Mira could spot vague silhouettes pacing back and forth in front of the glass. Past the second floor, the windows became progressively more tinted, making it hard to see through to the other side.

Mira crossed her arms. Even from the outside, they were going to make this difficult. Not that she didn’t expect it; she imagined that any kind of group would want to maintain some level of secrecy. Still, she’d hoped that getting a glimpse at what went on beyond the glass would give them better insight.

A small breeze crossed through and beside her, Jovie shivered. The three of them were lingering in a nearby alleyway, tucked into its corners behind boxes and crates and other discarded trash the locals couldn’t be bothered to deal with. Neither one wanted to be the first to move; Mira sure as hell was going to be the one to lead and she always pinned Magic as being far too skittish to take a leading role. Even Jovie, for all her bravado and compliance was frozen to the spot, flicking at the pin she had fastened over her heart.

She was dressed in what Alaric had called a uniform, but it looked less like what Mira pictured as military dress and more like she was going in for a business meeting. The coat covering most of Jovie’s body was a deep blue with thin, weaving lines of silver that branched out like antlers along the cuffs. Three sturdy black buttons ran down either side and a shinier gray seam lined the edges of the jacket, which flared like a skirt towards the hem. Across her midsection was the illusion of a belt because of the way it was stitched, fabrics ever so slightly raised..

Her dark pants nearly blended in with the overcoat and, if Jovie had put a hat on her head, Mira would’ve thought she looked more like a standard detective than a resistance leader. Though she supposed that the whole ‘detective’ look wasn’t too far off. They were gathering information. Just very up close. And personal.

And the more Mira thought about it, the more unsure she felt in the plan.

Jovie paced back and forth. “These disguises of yours better work,” she said, the words wavering a little. “I don’t need the Cardinals getting any ideas before we’re able to go in, get Delilah and Val, and get out.”

Magic frowned a little. He tugged at his new coat so quickly that Mira could hear the fresh snapping of the fabrics. “I matched Alaric’s descriptions with what he was able to provide. It’ll work.”

Mira hoped he was right. Unlike Jovie’s coat, which resembled something she’d wear in the winter, these coats were military style, thin and deep maroon. An embroidered pattern of a dwindling flame was stitched into the left breast, and the golden buttons down its front were elaborate to the point of gaudy. Even the slightly extended collar in the back rubbed Mira the wrong way. Like how the outfit looked on her, blood red hue catching the neon glare of the Subsidian lights. It reminded Mira a lot of the color of daylane, which only made her hate the mere fact of wearing it. It didn’t come close to Jovie’s discomfort of being around the two of them in the outfits—the Scepter was actively keeping her distance from Mira and her brother, and Mira couldn’t help but feel slightly hurt by it. She understood why, but the feeling remained.

Magic adjusted the glasses on his face. “Are we ready?”

Jovie shrugged. “I never thought I’d see the day where I’d be willingly handed over to the Cardinals.”

“So, not great?” Mira asked.

An obvious question with an obvious answer that Jovie didn’t respond to. The Scepter only looked at the bag Magic was lugging along his shoulder. Its edges moved, bulging, flattening and flaring out again. Jovie knelt and unzipped it enough for two, solid arcs of black to poke out of the top. Large, blue ears followed shortly after with the stout muzzle of Soma’s face. Mira didn’t know if she could get used to the creature’s all-seeing eyes, the way those void-like spheres seemed to stare through everything and everyone.

It gave her the creeps just thinking about it and her hands drifted slowly to the glasses on her face. She’d never been one for eyewear, not even as a decorative thing, and Mira wished she’d tried on the frames earlier just to get used to it.

Jovie took a small breath, scratching Soma between the ears—the rabbit looked annoyed by it, ears flicking with disapproval. Then, she motioned to something further in the bag and the creature obliged, lowering her head so the antlers were parallel to the ground. Soon, Soma was out of sight and Jovie was closing the zipper to close the Spectacle in.

“Well,” said Jovie, wiping her hands on her coat, “let’s get this over with.” She held out her arms and Mira stared for a while. When it was clear to Jovie that Mira wasn’t going to budge, the woman took a breath, grabbed Mira’s arm and linked it through her left. Magic, clearly hesitant, made the effort to be as far away from Jovie as possible while still hooking his arm in hers before they made their way to the building.

Seated at the table, Alaric spread out an old, battered piece of paper. It looked more like an old map than a blueprint of a building and Mira had to wonder just how long the man had kept this building plan around. Dust sparkled off of it like glitter as Alaric wiped a hand across it and weighed it down on all four corners.

“The Cardinal building,” said the Knight, “once belonged to a corporate building. They’d taken over the property decades ago after it went out of business, but the plans for it still existed.”

“I thought building plans were private,” Magic said, waving a hand in front of face to ward off the fine powder from the paper.

Alaric only winked. “They’re private if you don’t know where to look. Fortunately for us, our dear friend Val knows his way around computers, too.”

“He used to do a lot of programming,” chimed in Jovie. “He tinkers and deals a lot with chemicals, but he’s not entirely unfamiliar with the way machines work. Val says they’re all interconnected in some way.”

“The first floor,” continued Alaric, “used to be used for communications—think of it as your front lobby. People behind desks, over at counters. It’s your welcome center. That floor is the emptiest, so you’ll have to get yourselves through without causing suspicion.

“As for the ones above, I don’t know what the Cardinals have turned them into now, but the third floor used to be where they kept all of their computers—I imagine they keep their Scepters, half-sights, and other subjects in either the floor above or below. They’ll likely want Jovie in that room, unless they’ve devised something separate for the Celez Vesza herself.”

The Scepter shuffled her feet. “Don’t sound too excited, Alaric…”

The man didn’t seem phased by it and only placed a hand on Jovie’s shoulder. It was small, but Mira saw the woman relax.

“Once you get in,” Alaric said, “it’s imperative that you find the area and then get out. Make it loud if you have to, but only after Delilah and Vallian are secure.”

“You think Soma would be able to handle that without her crystal to draw from?” Mira asked. The gemstone had been deposited on the table when they arrived at the house. Now, it pulsed evenly as Soma sat atop it on the counter, her large, blurry ears flicking as if in challenge. Mira didn’t care if the Spectacle was offended. It wouldn’t do anything for their plan to state anything other than the truth.

“With Jovie, I imagine she should. Soma may not look it, but she’s quite the powerhouse when she’s combined with her Vessel.

“But before you leave, there is something you should take with you.”

Alaric reached into his back pockets and from them pulled two pairs of glasses. One, a deep blue cat-eyed frame with tinted lenses, the other a pale gold wireframe with equally tinted lenses as if they were made for blocking out the sunlight. But what kind of use would sunglasses have here in the mountains when there was no natural light to shield from? Sure, the neon hurt, but Mira figured the Subsidians were used to that their whole life.

Magic twirled the circular frames around by the leg. “I have glasses already. I don’t need new ones.”

“No,” countered Alaric, “though I don’t suppose those lenses are doing much for you.”

Mira watched her brother place a tentative hand over his own eyewear as if he were placing a hand on his heart. He said nothing and silently unfolded his glasses, setting the two pairs beside each other on the table before muttering something under his breath and popping out both lenses of his own.

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She almost asked what he was doing, then stopped and watched him replace his broken lenses with the ones from the pair Alaric had given them.

Mira had been fidgeting with her own pair when Alaric said, “Put them on.”

And when she did, the world around her turned the tiniest shade of sepia. Everything looked like an old movie film, hues of brown until, suddenly, the color began to seep back in, but dull and faded. Pastel splashes on a slab of monochrome.

Beside her, Magic took a sharp breath in, as though startled. “Ori’s feathers.”

She followed his gaze to find Soma, no longer a blur of blue, but a fully formed thing—gray hooves tapping on the gemstones; large ears perked up; smooth, blue fur that glistened in the light of the house; a tail of three parts; jet black antlers with five prongs; those wide, beady eyes that held the stars in them—smiling at them.

If it was possible for a rabbit to smile, that is.

Soma didn’t have to say anything, but the rodent tipped her head up with a kind of strange, warbled sounding call; the goats, who had fallen asleep minutes before, briefly rose from their slumber and also began to whine, mirroring the Spectacle’s sound. When the brutes settled, the Spectacle was on all fours, tendrils poking from the tops of her antlers.

Jovie only smiled, a rare but beautiful thing. “Nice of you two to finally see. Now you get to see her tantrums like I do every day.”

Heat went to Mira’s cheeks, embarrassed by the comment, but Magic grinned from ear to ear like an excited schoolboy. Of course he was having a ball. This would’ve been his childhood dream made manifest. All Mira could feel was the overwhelming dread of what it was like to see celestial deities on a daily basis and how people—herself—were killed or captured for this ability.

“Now then,” Alaric said, with a soft clap of his hands, “let’s get to business, shall we?”

Doors opened easily and allowed them entry.

Mira imagined there would’ve been more of a struggle in getting the entrance to open, but when a young man behind a desk waved at them to approach, she began to praise that her brother’s handiwork was paying off. Jovie stiffened like a board next to her and she gave the Scepter a reassuring nudge to get her to move.

The lobby was an intimidating space, nearly empty with large statues in the image of some kind of predatory bird—she wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a mockery of Ori or some other kind of image they saw themselves as, but it was certainly impressive enough to have two of them there side by side. The floor, a clear linoleum, clacked beneath their boots.

Behind the desk was a young man—Mira imagined he couldn’t have been much older than Magic, just barely an adult and clearly a new blood because of the eagerness she could feel radiating off of him. The jacket he wore had to have been recently pressed—not a single wrinkle was present aside from the creases on his elbows—and the gold buttons winked in the glare from the neon lights. His smile was too large, his eyes too bright. Too eager. It made Mira wonder if he knew what he’d gotten himself into.

Or got looped into unwillingly, she considered silently.

“Afternoon,” chirped the boy, bowing slightly in a manner that was far too formal for Mira’s liking. He opened his mouth, as if he were about to go on a tangent, when his eyes scanned over Jovie, who straightened imperceptibly. She felt the air pressure in the room change and the boy must have felt it, too, because he shrank a little as he spoke. “I see you’ve contained the target.”

It was a statement, but he framed it like a question. Like he wanted to know how they’d managed to get Jovie to either go willingly.

“It’s easier,” Magic said, his chin tipped up, “when you have something that your enemies want.”

Mira quirked a brow. She tried not to look too impressed by her brother’s statement.

The boy nodded his head quickly. “Right. I can have someone come and collect the—”

“Not necessary,” Mira insisted, jostling Jovie’s arm. The woman shot a nervous glance in her direction. “I believe my brother and I can handle her.”

“With the luggage he’s carrying? No offense, ma’am, but I can have someone else—”

“They’re supplies,” Magic cut in, but his tone wavered a little. “We were told that the containment floors needed a little bit of reinforcement.”

“Plus,” Mira added, “have a little bit of faith in us. I imagine that us being able to contain Soma’s Vessel between the two of us is reason to trust us enough?”

The boy twiddled his thumbs, hands interlocked and fingers spinning circles around each other. He turned to look back as if to check and see if there were other people coming, but when no one showed, his shoulders dropped and he averted his eyes elsewhere. “Floor Two is where you want to drop that–that bag off. Vessel goes to Floor Four.”

He pointed towards the stairs with his arm, rigid and stiff as a board, as Mira feigned a tip of a hat in his direction and motioned with her head for Magic and Jovie to follow suit.

“Easier than I thought,” Jovie muttered under her breath as they reached the stairwell.

The door clanged behind them and the three of them congregated on one of the landings. Mira hung her arms over one of the railings, looking down at the Scepter and her brother, who lingered at top of the lower stairs. “Now we just need to find our information about where the Cardinals would be holding two civilians.”

“Containment,” Jovie said, “would be my guess. It’s the only thing most of the buildings have to a cell area, and …” Then, she trailed off and cocked her head in a way that reminded Mira a lot of the way that Soma would whenever she was deep in thought or confused. “How many?”

“How many what?” Magic asked, hoisting the bag higher up on his shoulder. The fabrics moved around; Soma must have been trying to make herself comfortable in the tight confines of the pack.

“Floors. How many floors did Alaric say there were?”

“Four,” Mira said, taking distinct notice of the shift in air pressure. “Alaric said there were four floors.”

Jovie frowned and her forehead crinkled. “Then why is there someone coming up from the floor?”

The question caught her like a hit to the stomach. Mira could’ve sworn she felt a rock in her gut. “You’re joking,” she muttered.

“A hidden floor?” Magic asked.

“Not just a hidden floor. I can sense them coming up fast. Like … Oh, Soma’s grace,” Jovie hissed. She leaned against the concrete wall and rolled her eyes. “Of course. An elevator. Whoever it is, they’re coming up through an elevator.”

“And these stairs only go up,” Mira said with a scoff.

Magic peered around the corner, looking in the direction of the stairwell door. “If the elevator is the only way down,” he said, “it’s probably heavily guarded.”

Mira wanted to bang her head into a wall—or punch someone in the face. Whatever would make resolving her frustration easier.

It made sense—it infuriated her, but it made sense. If the Cardinals were going to run something beneath the known floors of their building, she imagined that the damn birds would take special precautions to keep that operation hidden.

“The boy at the desk was wearing an ID card around his neck,” Jovie said. “And I know that some of the larger buildings that have elevators for staff here usually have employee only access.”

“That means we need IDs, then?” Mira asked. “Where do we even get one of those?”

Magic shook his head. He was exasperated by her statement, she could tell by the way turned to walk almost away from the group. “We don’t—not the traditional way. It would take us far too long to get what we need. So …” He pantomimed uselessly with his hands as if that would get his point across. When it didn’t, he finished the thought in a quick, concise sentence. “We need to steal one.”

Her brother gave her a knowing look. It would be a return to a moment in the past, a brief time warp back to their days in Elnoire. Mira knew she could find an ID card and swipe one given the right environment or conversation. But there was still the issue of getting Jovie up to the fourth floor, and stalling for that would look odd considering the Scepter’s high profile—and, if the desk boy’s reaction was any indication, threat level.

Sure, there was a possibility that the two of them could manage that together on the way to the fourth floor.

It pained her, but Mira didn’t want to waste opportunities.

She took a breath and hated the words coming out of her mouth. “Sounds like a plan. But we need to split up.” Magic opened his mouth to cut her off and Mira waved a hand to stop him before he could. “Mags, you have a literal goddess in your bag,” she whispered. “The more ground we can cover, the better. Have a little faith.”

“I do have faith,” he said with not nearly enough confidence to back up the statement. “Faith isn’t my issue. I just—” He took a minute, as if considering her words, then fidgeted with the legs of his glasses. The eyewear went up and down and up and down. An anxious metronome. “Okay. Fine. If we do this, Soma and I will take this next floor. Floor Two. You go with Jovie where the Cardinals are expecting her.”

It wasn’t often that Magic agreed with her. Even worse was when she saw the wheels turning in his head behind those green and hazel eyes of his and he rolled his shoulders back. “We’ll find something here and you guys do what you can while you’re surveying the third and fourth floor.”

Something was off and for the life of her Mira couldn’t figure out what it was until Magic maneuvered past Jovie on the stairs and walked over to her. He said nothing and was next to her in no more than five strides with one arm wrapped around her neck in a hug tighter than she’d ever known Magic to initiate. It said everything he had neither the courage nor the will to say himself.

Mira hugged him back as though her life depended on it. “Don’t be stupid,” she whispered. “Don’t make me worry about you.”

“You’ll worry about me anyway,” he replied. “I should be saying that to you. Don’t be rash.”

“Won’t make any promises.” She stepped back on a higher step and pried her brother away before clapping him on the shoulders. He flinched. “Meet back in ten minutes?”

Magic nodded and patted the side of his bag. Soma squirmed from the inside at the gesture. “Good plan.” He sidestepped past her, one hand on the exit door as he leapt onto the landing. His hand lingered on the knob. “Remember—”

“Be careful. I know.”

Jovie made a small, cautious step towards Mira, reaching a hand to graze Mira’s own. It was a silent command, the leader’s order to get going.

Magic gave a curt bob of his head before twisting the doorknob and slipping silently out of the stairwell.

Mira wished him a silent string of good luck as she and Jovie padded swiftly up to floor number four.