gate, paid the entry fee, and joined the scattering of other park visitors, who were being desultorily watched by a couple of attendants who wore uniforms but no sidearms.
Once they were in, Strike gave a little finger wiggle. “Let’s spread out. We’ll meet up in five at the back of the pyramid.”
Although the magi could conceal themselves with a chameleon shield or by uplinking with Patience when she went invisible, the spells would be a power drain, so they stuck to more conventional camouflage to start with, splitting up to wander into the park, flying casual.
At least most of them did. Rabbit stopped just inside the main gate and took a long look around.
Most of the old buildings were little more than stone footprints, lines in the limestone outlining where the village’s market buildings, houses, temples, and palace had once stood. It all looked exactly the same as it had two days ago . . . but the air carried a subsonic whine he didn’t remember from before, one that made him want to work his jaw and pop his ears.
Myrinne had initially moved off with the others, but now backtracked and put herself in front of him. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s not wrong, so much. I’m just getting a strange buzz off this place. It’s probably just the same thing Brandt was talking about.” He resisted the almost overwhelming urge to scratch the back of his neck. “I’m probably feeling it because we’re almost on top of the solstice-eclipse. I bet the others will start noticing it soon.”
She looked dubious. “Should we tell Strike?”
“Not yet.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he warned, “Don’t cry wolf on me, babe.”
She made a face at him. “You’re just pissed that when he finally gave me something to do, it turned out to be babysitting you.”
“Ouch.” But he snorted, amusement smoothing out some of the itchiness. “Witch.”
“Pyro.”
They grinned at each other like a couple of idiots in love—which they pretty much were—then linked hands and headed for the pyramid. But even as he let himself be distracted by the bounce in her step and the excited gleam in her eyes, he stayed very aware of the angry-mosquito buzz that plagued him just below the audible level . . . and the feeling, deep in his gut, that he was missing something.
At the back side of the square pyramid, out of sight of the tourists and the park attendants, the magi gathered near the center point of the lowest tier.
Brandt flattened his hand on a section of stonework that looked exactly like its neighbors on either side. “It was right here.” Beside him, Patience nodded.
They were standing closer together than usual, Rabbit saw, and when Patience caught his eye and sent him a “hope this works” look, she didn’t look as tight as she had for the past few months. He hoped that meant she and Brandt were putting things back together. He didn’t like them being out of whack, because if those two couldn’t make it work—hell, he didn’t know. It wasn’t good.
Jade stared at the stones, her eyes going blurry with the inward-looking expression she wore when she used her spell caster’s talents. After a moment, though, she shook her head. “I’m not sensing any sort of concealment spell. Let’s try uplinking and see if the power boost helps.”
To be on the safe side, Alexis cast a thin chameleon shield that would obscure them from view, making them seem to blend into the surrounding stone. Michael had discovered the variation on the warrior’s traditional protective shield, and Alexis had picked up on it through her connection to Ixchel, the goddess of weaving and rainbows; she said it was like weaving light.
They were the only two who had mastered the magic so far, though. Most of the others could only cast the protective shield. Rabbit had managed to alter his, but instead of going into stealth mode, it turned the deep, vibrant orange found at the heart of a fire, and grew bitching hot to the touch. Which was neat, but not exactly subtle.
Once the chameleon shield was in place, perceptible as a wall of blurriness separating them from the human world, Nate passed out the combo earpiece-microphones the warriors wore to keep in touch on ops. The reception wasn’t totally reliable underground, but the earbuds were better than nothing, and although this wasn’t an official op and they weren’t wearing full combat gear, they were all on guard, and most of them were carrying, concealed in some form or another.
At Strike’s cue, the magi pulled their ceremonial knives and blooded their palms on both sides.
Rabbit
With his senses amped, Rabbit smelled blood and the mingled scents of his teammates’ soaps, colognes, and perfumes, along with the sharp edge of rich Mexican coffee and breakfast grease. He heard the trill of a sugarbird and the sigh of a gentle breeze, and saw subtle imperfections in the seemingly smooth spots on the pyramid face. But he didn’t see a doorway, not even with the inner senses that followed the flow of magic.
Then the energy flow fluctuated as Jade leaned on the uplink. Because the magi were all blood-
linked so deeply, Rabbit picked up on the shimmer of her normally intangible magic as it spread across the stone surface, seeking a concealment spell.
And finding one.
Seeing the magic trace the contours of an arched doorway, Jade bore down, pulling magic from the whole team as she whispered a counterspell.
For a second nothing happened. Then the pyramid face shimmered and changed, revealing the doorway as a dark square leading inward.
Beside him, Patience gave a low gasp, and pain echoed through their handclasp.
Rabbit said in an undertone, “You okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine,” she said, equally quietly. “It’s just that—” Without warning, the mosquito buzz in Rabbit’s head ratcheted to a shriek and dark magic smashed through his mental blocks like they were fucking newspaper.
The hell-link slammed open and a terrible presence entered him, swelling inside his skull and seizing control of his body.
Before, Iago’s mental pattern had felt like those of the other magi. Now it was ten times stronger, faster, and more complex, with his and Moctezuma’s thoughts and memories twisted into a single entity controlled by the mage’s consciousness. And the bastard dug in and hung on tight. Agony ripped through Rabbit, but the Xibalban didn’t let him cry out in pain or yank his hands away from the blood-
link and jam them against his temples. More, the bastard blocked Rabbit’s magic, not letting him transmit any sort of warning through the uplink.
Rabbit’s inner vision kaleidoscoped inward, spinning with fractured images, most unfamiliar. He caught impressions from Iago’s current lair: a cement-slab tunnel lit by strings of bare bulbs with a time-worn yellow sign hung on the wall. Those images were mixed with Moctezuma’s memories: scenes of sun-drenched pyramids, bright feathers, blood pouring onto sand as his Aztecs fought their Spanish enemies. Over it all lay a night-vision overcast of luminous green.
But then, a few frantic heartbeats later, the kaleidoscope reversed. It stopped showing him memories, and started taking his instead, lifting them wholesale from his mind.
Oh, holy shit. The bastard was fucking
Howling inwardly, sick with the knowledge that he was giving up his teammates while they stood around him, unaware of the danger, he hammered against the bastard’s hold, trying to break free, trying to keep some part of himself locked down, but not managing to do either.
“Rabbit? What’s wrong?” Myrinne’s voice seemed very far away.
