Chapter 46

46

T he staircase wouldn't be out of place in a public school, with a fire hydrant and medical bag at the landing of the next floor, and Delina rips into it, despite Ambra glowering with impatience.

Inside are several shots of morphine, ready to go, more ace bandages, blood clotting powder, and gauze.

No splints.

"What do you need?" Ambra all but spits out, skirting close to Delina before jerking herself back after Maison straightens. "You're looking for something, what do you need?"

"Something for his knee," Delina responds, though her heart hammers, remembering the threat. Remembering the gold flashes from before, remembering her feet going numb. "We need to go faster."

"Just heal it," Ambra tells Maison, who stares down at her. "That's easy, just heal it."

"I can't," Maison replies, and he's sweating, despite the stoic exterior, and Delina swears she's going to get him out of here and to a hospital. "Half Demon, remember?"

Ambra gapes at him, then closes her fist around the metal handrail, tearing off a chunk like it has no more structural integrity than a pretzel, and tosses it to Chloe.

"Make a splint from this, it'll be faster than him hobbling," she says, scowling down at Chloe. "Shrink it and mold it, it's easy, less effort than with other materials."

"Can you—" Gurlien asks Chloe, but the metal's already warping down, already taking shape of an immobilizing brace, almost immediately.

Ambra paces on the landing, short, agitated steps, her eyes reflecting back the strobing light, until Chloe hands Maison a brace, something they can actually use.

"Here," Delina says, helping Maison down to sit, so he can stretch the leg out in front of him. She loops the string of death over her shoulder, and it tightens, imperceptibly, as if it's holding on as well.

The kneecap gives a pang of pain at that, sharp, and he hisses.

"I know," Delina grumbles at the echo of sensation from him. "This fucking sucks and you're not allowed to get hurt anymore."

She unwinds the ace bandage, as quick as she can, though her hands tremble, then fits the brace over his knee.

And there's another wave of relief from the pain from Maison, at just that, before another death punches through from the level they just left.

Another death, and it's not someone who was in the cells.

"We got to go," Delina says, and Maison pulls himself up with the broken handrail, "that wasn't someone who was there before."

Chloe and Ambra start clambering down the stairs, and Delina helps Maison swing his leg down the next few steps. It's clumsy, it's slow, but there's less pain echoing from him.

The wall splits open again, and Gurlien fires off two shots, echoing down the staircase, and a death punches through Delina once more.

Gurlien scrambles after them, his eyes wide, like he's choking down vomit.

Delina's not sure he's ever killed someone before.

Chloe stops at the landing, three floors down, and starts to sketch out the runes, before Ambra clenches her fist and the entire wall shatters, brick flying outward, filling the air with dust.

Delina cranes her neck upwards, up the staircase, and more boots thump against the metal stairs.

Unwinding the death from her shoulders, it thrums in her hand, angry hot, as they scramble into the new hallway before Ambra jerks the bricks back into place, melting and warping until they're hotter than slag, glowing with heat.

"Oh wow," Chloe mumbles, at the raw display of power, and Ambra smiles at her, satisfied.

The hallway is more of the cheap carpet, the lights dim and strobing red, but the alarm is more distant. Further away.

And almost immediately there's less pain from Ambra, so much so that Delina hadn't even noticed how much it consumed her entire being, until a little bit of it was gone.

"Now what?" Ambra says, pacing in front of them, her movements jerky. "We're here, now what?"

"This floor, next wing, protected prison," Gurlien recites. "Three demon traps, two displacement wards, and some flamethrowers."

"And then we get out?" Ambra presses. "Then can we try to leave?"

Gurlien checks his stopwatch. "We have forty-two minutes."

Delina twists the magic in her hands, and immediately has both Maison and Ambra's undivided attention. "Can I use this to break the demon traps?"

"Oh yes," Maison replies grimly.

"And you're okay with her having that?" Ambra bursts out, as if that's the pressing issue. "She could end all of us with that, and she's just casually carrying it around."

Maison faces her, squaring his shoulders again, and it's easier for him to do so with less pressure from his knee. "That's the point, self-defense."

"What the fuck," Ambra states, and for a moment Delina almost wants to laugh, at how normal and colloquial it is. "You're insane, all of you are insane."

"That's rich," Gurlien mutters, and his hand is shaking against the gun. "Let's go on, we need to break those traps."

They get most of the way down the carpeted hallway, the dust motes hanging in the air, before Chloe and Maison freeze and Ambra backpedals, almost thumping into Gurlien.

Delina stills herself, waiting in the quiet air, before knives slam out of one side of the corridor, imbedding into the wall on the other side, hilt deep into the Sheetrock.

If they hadn't stopped, it would've shredded through all of them.

"I take it you missed that trap," Gurlien asks, and Chloe nods, pale, before she walks up to one of the knives, poking it with her thumb. "Great."

Bracing herself, Chloe yanks one of the knives from the wall, and grey dust powders through the air, before she flips it in her hands. "They're not spelled, just normal knives. Anyone want one?"

"No," Ambra says flatly, but Gurlien takes one anyways, holding it next to the gun. "They won't do anything against a shield."

"Not everyone here has a shield," Gurlien snips back. "Not everyone here can explode things on command."

She narrows her eyes at him, before resuming down the hall, until she stops at a glowing demon trap, toeing around the edge.

Without even a word, Chloe steps up, and the air above it shimmers.

"There are more demons beneath us," Ambra says. "Not sure your claim on the Necromancer will be enough to stop them."

Delina shivers, and Ambra gives her a wide grin, showing all her teeth.

"You're going to release those ones if you're not careful about which protections you tear down, alchemist," Ambra says, and her voice lilts up, like she can't decide if she's taunting them or if she's warning them. "Some of those down there shouldn't see the light of day."

"Noted," Chloe says, concentrating hard on the circle, and after the locking pits and the splint, Delina can taste her exhaustion, taste her pounding headache. "This is a complicated one, please don't talk to me."

Back down the hall, with the slagged brick blocking the way, the sound of chipping at stone clinks through the air.

They're trying to come behind them.

"How good are you at defense?" Delina asks Ambra, who almost startles at someone else starting the conversation. "We might need more shields, might need someone else to cover our back."

"They can't attack us if they're dead," she replies simply, which isn't better. "Unless they—" she jerks a finger under the leash, demonstrating it, "—then they can't stop me."

"So we stop them from pulling on your invisible leash, got it," Gurlien says sarcastically. "Good, actionable goal."

Instead of responding to the sarcasm, Ambra just blinks up at him. "You can't see it?"

The air above Chloe's hands shimmer again, the world beyond it warping, and sweat trickles down her face.

"Dud, remember?" Gurlien replies, and a thoughtful look steals over Ambra's face, one that Delina likes not one bit. "No way of me telling that it's there, can't see it, can't sense it, whatever."

"You can, right?" Ambra asks Maison, who nods. "And you?"

"Yeah," Delina replies, and Ambra makes a humming noise in the back of her throat, like she's evaluating them, like she's considering saying something, before the demon trap unravels with a snap.

Chloe staggers back, her fingertips stinging, and there are droplets of blood dotting them, before she throws Delina a nod. "You get next one."

The hallway stretches onwards, impossibly longer than it was beforehand.

"Illusion spell?" Delina asks, and Maison nods, grim. "Sweet."

"You can't see through illusion spells?" Ambra asks, walking backwards, and despite the direness, despite the stress and the injuries and the situation, Delina gets the sudden insight that the demon is having fun, that the demon is actually enjoying having someone to talk to. "Wait, can you?"

"Sometimes," Maison grumbles, and he's sweating again, even with the help of the brace. "Depends on who set it."

"Fascinating," Ambra says, and Delina wishes she could roll her eyes. "There's a door five paces away, it leads to a branching hallway. I've only been down the left."

Gurlien rounds back on her. "Was it a prison there?"

"This whole place is a prison." The demon shoots back. "It's all a prison and you're insane for going further down."

"Great, thanks, but I need to know specifics," Gurlien replies, before he stops Chloe long enough to yank the map out of her backpack. "Does it lead to here?"

"Guys, we should keep moving," Maison murmurs, and the hair on the back of Delina's neck raises. "Something's coming."

The other demon ignores him. "This is a woefully incomplete map."

Delina glances up at Maison, and his mouth is grim.

"Someone's coming, I don't know who, and—"

The wall shatters at the end of the hall, and almost without thinking, Ambra flicks her hand and collapses the roof in front of it, closing off the way.

"You're trying to get here?" Ambra asks, jabbing her finger at Maison's mom's prison cell, as if she hadn't just possibly hurt the structural integrity of the compound. "They're going to protect it, they put the dangerous people there, what did she do?"

"Have me," Maison says, leaning a hand against the wall to brace himself.

"You can't be that special," Ambra replies, disgruntled, before she puts a hand on the wall a few paces away, peeling the illusion up and opening the door. "There's a fire trap and a pressure plate, but this way's easier and there's no demon traps until before the cell."

All at once, Gurlien and Chloe look to Delina, like she's the one to make the decision, so she glances up at Maison.

Who nods, inhaling deep.

"Let's do this."

The hallway is dead silent, unlit, and Gurlien pockets the knife so he can pull out his cell phone for the flashlight.

Maison holds back the fire trap, the strips of magic glowing his hands, holding literal flames at bay as they pass through, and Delina gets the overall sensation that it's easier than walking for him at the moment. Chloe whispers Delina through disabling the pressure plate before they walk through it, soft.

Even Ambra is silent, as if worn out by the chattering, her eyes jerky down the darkness of the hall.

"We have eighteen more minutes," Gurlien murmurs, his voice dead in the quiet.

"We're almost to the branch," Ambra whispers back, and her eyes keep on flickering between Maison and Delina, considering.

Maison inhales at the reminder of his mother, but he nods, grim, and he's back to leaning against Delina, so his hand tightens around her waist, still avoiding the coil of magic thrumming angrily.

"We're almost done," Delina whispers to him, and he squeezes her briefly, like he's still not believing it. "We're almost there."

His face is blank, carefully so, his jaw working.

"We'll get her out, we'll get to safety, then we can plan."

Ambra stalks up closer to Chloe, brushing by them, and Maison jerks Delina out of the way, swift, before he tugs her into a hug, burying his face into her hair.

She clings back to him, against his heart beating strongly, before he pulls himself back.

"I'm terrified," he says, his voice low, simultaneously obviously tracking both the death magic in her hands and where Ambra whispers furiously at Gurlien and Chloe. "This could go so wrong, this could—"

Delina stands on her tip toes, and kisses him.

In terms of kisses go, it's far from ideal. There's dust coating her face, his leg is trembling from pain, but he opens his mouth to hers, brutal and brief, before pulling back.

Delina nods at him. "We got this."

He nods, leaning against her, and she ducks her shoulder under his arm, supporting him. He's warm against her, strong despite all the pain, and for a brief, crystalline moment, she wishes that this could stay like this, exactly like this, for forever.