The thick ropes and heavy iron chains binding the three operatives to the mechanical behemoth were just the beginning.
Also winking beneath the yellow light of Jay’s floating light orb were at least three different colors, widths, and strengths of binding wards the enemy had cast with particular thoroughness around their captives’ wrists, shoulders, and chest. They were subtle wards, meant to remain hidden until the last second.
And then, when that last second came, it would be too late.
Clearly, the enemy had assumed all three prisoners would have been too incapacitated to warn their rescue party of the existing danger literally behind and beneath them.
Rebecca realized the dozens of slowly blinking lights she’d seen before were a combination of signal lights connected to several incomprehensible levers and dials built into the monstrous gadget surrounded by Shade’s missing members. Others were magical lights cast onto the wall of the stage’s base and the center aisle in front of what used to be the front row seats. All of them winked out at varying speeds and intensity of light.
Like a countdown to one more trap of defensive wards they’d first detonated at the carousel.
Only Rebecca couldn’t read the numbers on this one, and something told her they didn’t have the time for thorough research.
Though Maxwell and Whit stood closest to those ghosts of blinking ward lights forming their own directing line straight toward the prisoners strapped to thatthing, the entire team had frozen at the sight of what they were up against.
Maxwell lowered his outstretched arm from in front of Whit, who let out a long, cautious exhale.
“If you know something, Diego,” Maxwell growled, “now would be the time to share.”
“Oh, is that your professional fucking opinion?” the Cruorcian snapped.
Rebecca distinctly heard Rowan’s snicker.
“Sorry,” Diego added with a sigh, then shook his head. “I’m a little out of it right now. Though not as much astheseguys, obviously.”
He jerked his head in the general direction of Titus and Burke before nervously licking his lips.
No one said a thing.
“Yeah,” Diego continued. “We’ve, uh… We’ve been through some shit over here.”
“You don’t say,” Maxwell replied flatly.
Diego tried to steady himself with another deep breath. “I can tell you a few things, sure. Enough to keep you from blowing us all sky-high, at least.”
“What?” Shell murmured, then took one more step backward away from the stage when Maxwell signaled for silence.
“It’s abomb, okay?” Diego continued, blinking furiously as he tried to gather his understandably scattered thoughts. “A bomb. Some kinda energetic explosive, right? Magic and something else, probably. Obviously. It’s all augmented shit.”
“And we just started the countdown, didn’t we?” Whit murmured breathlessly.
45
“What? Started the countdown? No!” Diego chuckled. “I don’t think so…”
“Stick with what you know,” Maxwell reminded him. “Conjecture won’t get us out of here.Allof us.”
“Right. Yeah, I get it. Um…okay. So it’s not on a timer or anything. That’s not these pricks’ style. It’s rigged with a proximity sensor kinda thingie… I think. I don’t know, it’s one of the wards here. This thing they tied us up against is mostly harmless. Until someone on the outside gets too close, and that’s the trigger, right? Again, I’d take a few steps back if I were you. Just in case. Hey, good thing I got you to stop in time.”
Whit sucked in another sharp breath and staggered backward by several feet until he stood on the slope of the descending floor stretching across the theater hall.
Maxwell, by comparison, took three incredibly calm, even steps backward and finally lowered his weapon. “Anything else?”
Diego let out a bitter, tittering laugh. “I mean, take your pick. This whole place is rigged with the same kinda ward traps. Move too fast, step one inch in the wrong direction, and you get blown to bits.”
“Then how the hell are we supposed to get you out of here?” Jay asked.
“Trust me, man,” Diego said, “I’ve been trying to work that one out since I woke up in here like this.”