Angela shakes her head and tries to take in what Nick is laying out, all cards on the table. Drenar is still trying to fathom this, and Julia is cracking her knuckles with one hand apiece like she has someone to fight with all her being.
"Nick, way to be late to the party," Drenar finally states after borrowing the headset again, and he's got that stern look when he takes charge. "You clearly knew something was up with us. So, what, we're supposed to drive back empty handed, right now? No way. We didn't opt into your world, we got thrown into it like a blender set to puree. Evan, James, he's not holding you at gunpoint, is he?"
"Yeah, that's a negative Drenar. I think this is legit." Even James is sold this time, and that was worrying enough. And right now, of all times, Angela could hear that whispering voice in the back of her head. Finnish dragon was back.
Sevali de nea, viate? Angela?
If you're asking if I can hear you, then yes, she thinks silently. The group has enough on their plate, she is not bringing this one up now.
Cauaiwati Vis netali. At least she sounds happy, from what Angela can tell. "Alright guys, what's our plan? And we need to all agree on this one."
"Going down into the depths, for a future shot at kicking some ass," Julia quips firmly. Drenar nods quietly, he’s waiting for Angela, and he knows that if she thinks it’s a bad idea, she'd speak up.
It is a bad idea. It is a terrible idea. But the fact that all this might have been foisted upon them, against their will? That they are unwitting participants in an experiment at the direction of the Talons, pushed her over the edge.
They need to know why. And who was responsible for this.
"Hey Nick, this is the Radiant Delvers, going dark. We'll give you a call for a pickup because, by your count, they're likely setting evidence on fire soon. We’re going to do something about that, over and out." she relays into the radio, and Drenar and Julia do a fist bump. Nick is not happy with their response.
"You idiot kids think you're invincible gods, every single one of you! No, you hold tight, Evan, James, and I will be right there as fast as I can. Do not go into that mine," he practically barks into the radio. Angela glances at the others and shrugs.
"So, he's gonna be super pissed with us when he catches up. So let's not get killed, and come out of this with a stack of evidence, shall we?"
Thirty seconds later she gets the main door lock open and tries to push the door. The door is still blocked from the inside, possibly by some kind of restraint or mechanical stop. She pushes harder, and throws up her hands. "Well, that was anticlimactic. If only we knew how to cook up explosives from chemistry class and–"
"I made thermite." Angela and Drenar stare at Julia, who pulls out a plastic bag that is tightly sealed, and filled with rusty particles. "What, it's not that hard!"
"You made thermite. In chemistry class?!" Angela shrills.
"No, I made it at home. Duh. Even Barton would have picked up on that one," she replies unapologetically.
"I would ask, why did you decide to make this, and when did you think this was even remotely a good idea?" Drenar asks nervously. His pupils are vertical slits, he's very wary of this proposition.
"First off, I figured we might need to have a workaround for locked doors. Second off, this is a great idea! Sure, it blows away stealth, but it means we don't have to beat our heads against a lock!" Julia had thought this through, much as it pains Angela to admit. "Thirdly, I had access to my mom's ammo bench. Let that soak in on what I could have made."
"Yeah, I just felt the whole world collectively convulse when you said that," Drenar responds nervously. His feathers are standing on end, and he appears even fluffier than before.
"And how are you planning on igniting it? We didn't bring a damn blowtorch!" Angela fumes. Julia rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers. A spark of energy ignites between her thumb and forefinger, and it lets out a high-pitched chirping sound.
"Satisfied? I tried it with a sample in the backyard last night when you were all busy. It works." Drenar gently lowers her arm with the dangerous mixture.
"Let's save that for something tougher than a door, shall we? Allow me to demonstrate the old-fashioned way. Brute force." Drenar takes a step back, his wings balancing his body before he takes a deep breath. He grabs a packed prybar and jams it in. Suddenly, this seems like a bad idea. A really bad idea.
"Stop!" Angela shouts out, and Drenar eases the tension. She frowns, and stares at the lock. or where the lock might be. "I have an idea."
"Okay. What's the play?"
"I'm going to try my telekinetics." she focuses on the door and where the latch mechanism is by putting out her hand. She can feel a tingle of energy...her fingers are touching nothing but air. She wills that force to the other side of the door. and--
She can feel it. it feels like an elipsoid knob, just on the other side of the door, and she can feel the resistance of the material. She can feel at a distance? or she gets a force feedback from her ability like this. It's a strange sensation to feel that cold metal on her hand even though she's not in physical contact with it. She torsions her hand, and there's a silvery bead of light that goes from her hand, through the frame of the door, at the tiny gap.
"Angie?" Julia asks quietly.
"Shh. Need to focus. I think I've got it." She slowly twists her hand, and feels the resistance. It shouldn't be this hard to turn the knob, and she feels the texture of those small grip lines of the metal--
*click*
She smiles and lets her hand down, and Drenar cautiously reaches for the handle and pulls. The door opens effortlessly, and he peeks his head inside, and edges to the door frame on the opposite side to look in.
"It's clear. Savvy moves Angie--" she puts a finger to his lip, and he quickly goes quiet.
"You've got better hearing? can you hear anyone nearby?" she asks while she thinks about it tactically. He leans in, and frowns, and curls his hand around the door handle, tapping gently. He's deeply focused now, and after a few second, he shakes his head.
"Nah. No one nearby. Let's get in here and get this done."
The only greeting they receive is the silence of an office with drop ceilings, a receptionist desk, and an office cubicle setup. There are still Halloween decorations here. But by the looks of it, they've been here since the place closed. Some desks are cleared off, and a few old work computers are on. Julia locks the door behind them--they can't leave any obvious trace.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Drenar is back into action and taps at the holster for his dagger. "Split up. Check the consoles, anything of interest, grab it on the external thumb sticks. We've got five minutes," he adds before setting a timer on his watch. "After that, we head down to the mine. At the first sign of danger, we bounce."
Yeah, you sound all confident Drenar. Even though I know you must be a complete wreck internally, Angela thinks worriedly. She works her way to the refrigerator. It was still on, surprisingly. And the food is fresh–the milk is even dated to this week. "Hey, how did they get in and out? This place looks like a ghost town outside. Here, it looks like they did some kind of cleanup."
"Oh, the dragons built these crazy teleport transportation hubs. Each portal connects to a series of other portals, but can only connect to so many over a certain distance. So they built big transit hubs with lots of dedicated gates, like an airport, and they connect to smaller, less used hubs. The Draconomicon spelled it out as some super-advanced magic. It's still made today. They could have just set one up here, and never have to use the front gate.” Drenar is on point with the details.
Julia is browsing through a computer log, and tapping away. "Password…uh…man, you morons left it on a sticky note on the underside of the desk? This is such amateur hour," she mutters.
"Three minutes. I'm grabbing hard drives and sealing them in bags, in case it pours. Glad I came prepared," Drenar announces with a stack of drives he pulled out of the computers in record time.
Angela spots an area for charging phones–none are plugged in, but there is a series of short-wave radios charging as well. She grabs one and turns it on. “Let’s bring this with us. Maybe we can eavesdrop if they start talking,” she proposes, and Drenar nods. He glances over to Julia, who is reading some kind of text log.
"Find anything special?"
"Hold your wings there, Gorbash." Drenar rolls his eyes while Julia continues to read. "This is the only PC with a functional wifi card. There's a chat record with someone on the outside, someone named ‘Grevenowich’. Looks like a series of messages about the mine, operations, setbacks, and…well…let’s just say that the Talons report to someone called ‘Val’ who strikes me as a bit of a James Bond Villainess.” Julia narrows her eyes at the screen, then transfers everything on a thumb drive she plugs into the computer. “We’ll look at it later. Drenar, did you find the mine entrance?”
“There are stairs in the far back, I scouted it out. Still not a soul in sight. It’s weird, it's like they left everything they were doing. You don’t suppose they knew we were coming, do you?” he asks cautiously. Angela taps his wings and he twitches at this. “Seriously Angie, they’re sensitive.”
“How are you holding up?” Angela asks softly. He scuffs his hiking boots on the cheaply carpeted floor.
“Hanging in so far. There’s some shooting pains down my spine, but it’s manageable.” He then glances at the stairwell, where the concrete gives way to rough-hewn stone further down. “Man, I should have brought my old CD player. I had a mixed track just for this occasion.”
“If you start singing to David Bowie about being down in the underground, I might murder you Drenar,” Angela threatens in a teasing way.
“I was thinking more of a magic carpet ride, but yeah.” He folds his wings tight against his back, and his hands drift to his dagger. Angela did not doubt his theoretical deadliness with it, either. Not after seeing his capabilities on the training floor with a variety of martial weapons.
“Let’s romp through this dungeon.”
----------------------------------------
The static emanating from the hobby radio is disconcerting to Nick, and he’s gripping the headset so tightly he might twist the metal frame if he’s not careful. “Hey man, I get that you’re a little pissed at them, but you did play coy with us.”
“James, I’m a professional agent and master hunter. What they’ve just done is the most boneheaded thing that teenagers with attitude are capable of.” His words practically drip venom, and he looks at James. “Did I mention what these people do?”
“They have a theoretical rap sheet of pretty much every crime under the sun if Ergath’s book is any indication,” James responds. He’s more relaxed in his seat, and Nick is weighing his options. “So, are you gonna murder us once they get back?”
“That’s not our policy, and if it was, I would have quit the second I was ever asked to do so,” Nick says with a slight growl. “Mount Syren is about thirty minutes by car. Twenty, if I break every traffic law getting there. They’re likely already inside.”
“You didn’t answer my question, are we going to get lobotomized?” Nick takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.
“No point. Those spells and magical abilities become useless once mana generation starts in someone, and all three of them have that process in high gear, based on what you just told me. That reckless idiot just barnstormed in there while he was Awakening? What is he thinking?!”
“He was thinking about keeping my sorry ass intact, thanks Nick,” Evan shot back. “Drenar’s no dummy, even if it appears he might be a little reckless. World of difference.”
“Either way, stay here Evan. Keep us in the loop on the radio, James, you’re with me,” Nick directs. “I’m assuming they’re going to run right into trouble because whoever was at Delta Tech managed to send an arcanlink message to an unknown recipient. I couldn’t crack the encryption with my field tool, but I’ll bet it’s the red alert for the Talons to start burning evidence and killing witnesses.”
“That’s your fault, Nick, we aren’t helping to bail you out–” James stops when Nick pulls himself up to James’ height, and peers right through him.
“We need to work together, or Drenar, Julia, and Angela could end up dead. I am not going to allow that outcome, do you understand me?”
“I feel like there's an ‘or else' coming–”
“For Fate's sake James, your sister's well-being isn't important enough? No wonder she hates her whole family.”
He isn't supposed to know that last part. But he does, because she had told him before. From what he's assembled as a picture of the home life, her mother is a neurotic, controlling fiend, her father loses his spine to do the right thing at every turn, and she and James can be adversarial at times. No matter how hard she tries, if it isn't in lock-step with her mother's impossible expectations, it’s looked down upon. James looks like he's incensed about that last remark, but holds firm
“Level with me. You care about her, right?”
Nick had foreseen that question coming after tipping his hand just a little too much. There's no way he can fool James; from his few interactions, he knows he is unusually adept at reading people.
“Yes, I care about her. But don't mistake caring about someone for being infatuated with someone. I'm seventy years old, James. It would never work out between us, anyway. And I expect you to never breathe a word of this to her.”
“You don't look a day past your late teens. Oh great, you're a dragon as well?” He put that together pretty fast. “Or some other Kin. I got the impression that humans are woefully lacking on that lifespan thing.”
“Hinterland green. Now let's get moving, before those three do something even more reckless than what they've already managed.”
“Knowing my luck, they've already pissed off some eldritch abomination that will demand all our deaths.” They dash out the door to Nick's vehicle, and he floors it down the road. James eyes the gun case in the back seat.
“You uh…have guns in here?”
“Part of my portable armory. You bring the right tool for the job, and ninety-nine percent of the time, you never have to use it,” Nick responds. “That’s my Barrett M82M3, and it's not factory stock either.”
“There's no such gun. I know guns. There's the base model, A1, that funky shoulder-fired one–”
“Mages get their own identifiers. That rifle is capable of dropping dragons, or some other equally resilient creatures. And I speak from experience.” James drops the conversation in an instant. “If you want the long story, you'll get it once I get those reckless kids out of probable danger.”
“So you're what, double-O dragon or something?” James asks sarcastically. Nick allows himself a faint smile.
“Something like that. As hard as I try to keep the job boring…fate has a way of pushing me into some truly crazy situations.”
“Man, you and Drenar do have something in common.”