A lot, apparently. The Gameskeeper must have been as much of a pack rat as I was, because every storeroom we passed was filled to the ceiling. Most of it looked like props for the arena—old hollowed-out cars, fake building fronts, lion cages, and so on—but there were plenty of weapon vaults as well, including some major military hardware.
“Whoa,” I said when we passed a room full of guns big enough to take down a dragon.
That’s exactly what they’re for, the city confirmed. Those are anti-dragon weapons.
“Are you kidding? Where did he get those?!”
They’re leftovers from when Algonquin ruled the city. I sold all her stuff after I kicked her out.
I pressed my palm over my face.
What? I needed the money! All my buildings were wrecked, and steel doesn’t come cheap. What was I supposed to do, hold a bake sale?
I saw her point but selling off the Lady of the Lakes’ armory seemed like a spectacularly bad idea. One that was currently being highlighted in bold as we walked by another room marked “Anti-dragon/Anti-aircraft Launchers. Live Ammunition: Keep Out.”
Okay, so maybe I was a tiiiiiiny bit reckless, the god admitted. But it’s all locked up in warehouses, and we’re about to take the Gameskeeper down anyway. I’ll just take it all back when he falls. No blood, no foul, right?
That had yet to be seen, but I didn’t have time to argue with her. We’d reached the end of the hall and were now facing the central freight elevator. My dad hadn’t said anything yet, but I presumed our target was the flight of emergency stairs set into the far wall. Unfortunately, to get there, we were going to have to cross a wide loading area watched by at least three security cameras.
“What do you want to do about those?” I asked, nodding at the cameras.
My father shrugged. “You have a top-of-the-line AI. Can’t she take them over?”
“Uh, no,” I said with a snort. “Sibyl’s a social support bot. She doesn’t hack.”
“I can ask about their work satisfaction,” Sibyl offered helpfully.
My father sighed and reached into his pocket to pull out a small steel ball bearing. “Guess we do it the old-fashioned way, then.”
I knew what he was planning the moment he hefted the metal sphere, but before he could throw it like a bullet at the closest camera, I grabbed his wrist.
“I’ve got a better idea. One that won’t result in dead cameras that might tip off security.”
My dad shrugged and slipped the ball bearing back into his pocket. Meanwhile, I dropped into a crouch and slowly leaned down the wall, edging my head around the corner until the tiny camera on the corner of my goggles had a good view of the entire freight elevator lobby. When I was certain I had a good mental image of all three cameras, I pulled my head back and closed my eyes, reaching out to grab a handful of the arena’s slippery magic.
The power fought me as always, but there was no spellwork on the walls down here. It still didn’t flow like normal DFZ magic, but it was the loosest I’d felt inside the arena. I’d also been working my magical muscles all week, and between those two factors, I was able to wrench free enough power to do what I wanted to do.
“Okay,” I said, gripping the magic tight. “When I say go, run for the stairs.”
I waited for my father to nod, and then I closed my eyes again, this time picturing a hand reaching out to grab each camera. As Dr. Kowalski had taught me, I focused on the image until it felt as real as any memory of an actual object. Then I pictured it again, doing the motion so many times in my head that I could have done it in my sleep. Only then did I let the magic actually slide out of me, reaching across the empty space to grab each camera and wrench them away from us.
“Go!”
We bolted forward, my dad shooting ahead to open the stairwell door for me. Above us, the cameras were straining on their automated arms, fighting my hold. But while I hadn’t been able to grab much, it didn’t take a strong hand to beat such a tiny engine. I maintained control no problem, keeping the cameras pointed firmly at the opposite wall until we were both inside the stairwell with the door closed.
“One in here too,” my father warned. “Just below us.”
Panting more from the running than the magic, I did the same spell again, jerking the camera toward a blind corner so we could slip past it. When we were a flight down, I let it go again, and the camera went right back to its usual position, meaning anyone watching the feed would only see a brief blip that would look like a temporary malfunction. That was my hope, anyway, but we didn’t hear any alarms, so it seemed I’d done well enough.
We had to repeat this song and dance for every floor. Despite this, we still made good time. All of the cameras were identical in model and position, so I was able to process them quickly, and the farther we got from the spellwork in the arena, the easier it was to cast. The arena magic was still awful to work with, but I knew what to expect now, and I managed the screaming all right. I was far more concerned about the actual voices I could hear talking on the other side of the metal doors every time we passed a landing. No one came into the stairwell, though, so we just kept
