“Jinx is on the team. You’re the one who said to trust the team. You wouldn’t want to hurt me, would you Jinxy?” I say, looking at him.
“No ma’am.” He winks.
“And the Krops? What if the blade didn’t kill it? And what if the other three didn’t run away?”
“Then I’d be dead,” I say, much more casual than I feel. “But it worked, didn’t it?”
Rye drops his hands from me. His eyes look frantic for a moment as they look into mine. I hold his gaze, almost daring him to berate me further. He looks away and the team bursts into noise.
“Holy shit, Sailor, that was awesome,” Mel says.
“I don’t know about that.” I laugh.
“Seriously. It was. How did you know it would work?” Grace asks.
“I’m from New York. Blades work,” I say.
She laughs and pats me on the shoulder. Sunday high-fives me and Ya-Ya gives me a thumbs-up. Even Aziza doesn’t give me her usual death glare.
“Great job, Sails.” Aziza says, and everyone turns all their attention to us.
“I guess I was wrong about you,” she says with a half smile. I return her smile and for a moment I think things finally get better between me and Aziza.
“Thanks, Z-Z.”
“When you’re all finished acting like the high school football team, we have work to do,” Rye says.
“Aww, Rye doesn’t like it when a girl does something he can’t do. Right, Rye?” Jinx taunts him.
“Just shut up, Jinx,” he snaps. “Sailor. Come here.”
I don’t move and Rye rolls his eyes and sighs.
“If we’re right about what’s behind that door, only the blood of the Paradox will open it,” he says.
“So all that fuss about my safety and now you’re just going to cut my throat anyway,” I say, nodding toward the huge sword he’s holding.
It’s a lame attempt at a joke and Rye doesn’t even bother responding. Instead, he holds his hand out and I find myself offering him my own hand. He turns it over gently so it’s palm up. His touch sends shocks through my body and I look up at his face. He keeps his eyes firmly on my palm.
“This might sting a little,” he says.
He pokes my palm with the tip of his sword. I suck in a breath as I feel the stinging sensation.
“You alright?” he asks.
I look at the tiny bead of blood on my palm and smile.
“I’ve had worse,” I say.
He returns my smile. I know I’ll still be in for one hell of a lecture when we get back to the cabin, but for now, he’s stopped glowering at me, which is something, I guess.
“Place your palm flat on the door,” he says. “Then step back. I mean it, Sailor. Anything could come bursting out of there.”
I nod. I will take necessary risks, but I’m not about to become completely reckless. I kind of like my head on my shoulders.
I press my palm flat to the door and move it from side to side slightly, smearing my blood on it. I hear a click as the door unlocks and I duck to the side as the door swings open. I cleared the doorway just in time. A wickedly sharp looking metal spike flies out of the door and embeds itself in the wall at the back of the room.
“Shit,” Grace says from behind me.
“Everyone stay on high alert. Don’t let your guard down for even a second,” Rye says as he moves cautiously toward the door.
I peer over his shoulder. A set of metal steps lead downwards to who knows what.
“We have no idea what’s down here, but we’re on the right track. This place isn’t on any of the blueprints of the bus station,” Rye says.
He leads the way with me behind him, then Grace and the others, with Aziza bringing up the rear. I keep my knife in my hand. The team has swords and I wonder absently when I’ll get given a sword. Probably when Rye decides I’m at least competent enough to not accidentally decapitate one of the team.
In a decade or two then.
Our footsteps clang out noisily against the metal steps. If there’s something down there, there’s no chance of us sneaking up on it. The staircase goes on for what seems like forever. Finally, Rye steps off the bottom stair and stops dead. I walk into his back and I feel Grace walk into me.
“Damn, Rye,” Jinx shouts.
“Shush,” Rye commands. “Stay here. I’ll check it out.”
He moves away from me and I step off the stairs and move to one side so the others can get off the stairs. We’re in a small, empty room. A single door is our only way out. Rye pulls the door open and jumps to the side, but nothing jumps out. An orange glow emanates from the room. Rye steps cautiously in front of the door. His eyes widen. Not a good sign. He beckons us closer.
I look through the door. A short, wide passageway opens out to a large room with wooden floorboards. In the center of the room is a wooden podium with a brown box on it. The box is rectangular, the size of three books stacked one on top of the other. It’s big enough to hold a dagger and I feel a rush of excitement go through me. The podium is the only thing in the room. The orange glow is coming from the actual doorframe.
“It can’t be as easy as it looks, can it?” I whisper.
Rye shakes his head.
“The orange glow you can see is a seal,” Sunday says. “It keeps whatever is in that room in place and it prevents anyone on this side of the seal from seeing or hearing it. Once we step through it, we have no idea what we’ll be facing.”
“We don’t all need to risk it,” Rye says. “You guys stay here. I’ll go.”
“Are you mad?” Aziza demands. “There could be anything in there.”
The others all begin to join their protests in with Aziza’s.
