Page 93 of The Aether

Jumping into action, Damian went back to studying the structure of the building. The entire place was reinforced, probably better than the original construction.

Creed and the Seers had done their jobs well.

Shifting his attention to the underground passages, Damian nodded his satisfaction. They, too, would hold. That only left the room they were in and the plethora of dynamite dotting the ceiling.

“They’ve repaired it all, Beastie. I’m going to start at the far end, by the easternmost wall, and work my way back here, dismantling the explosives. I just need you to hold on for five minutes, maximum.” He touched her damp cheek. “Can you do that, my dearest heart?”

“Yes, Papa.”

Ronan joined them, his underlying emotion grim, but his visage didn’t show a sign of it.

“How bad is Rorie?”

“Sure, and she’s halfway to dead. Morcant was after injectin’ her with a slow-acting poison, he was.”

“Can we save her?”

“Aye, if we knew what he gave her. Or maybe Blane can help. But we can’t release the spell holding all this.”

Ronan didn’t need to inform Damian that Rorie would die and they might follow on her heels if the C4 wasn’t disarmed.

“Right. Loman was an explosives expert, if I recall. Any chance you learned a thing or two?” he asked, infusing optimism into his voice. All he got for his upbeat attitude was a snort. “I had to ask.”

“Aye.”

“Creed will know, Papa.”

“If we bring him down, he’ll go the way of the others.”

“You could go up.”

The clinkity-clink of metal rolling along stone captured his attention. He caught sight of a signet ring circling Draven’s shoe and smiled. The lack of sleep over the last days was befuddling his mind, and he shook his head over not coming up with the idea himself.

Digging into his pocket, he slipped the tanzanite conduit in place, crossed to Draven, and picked up the ring he’d somehow managed to dislodge from his own hand.

“Well done, Masters. Thank you.” Once he had the Guardian’s ring in place, Damian curled the man’s fingers upward to lock it there.

“Anytime, friend,”Draven telegraphed through their mental connection.

“Creed? Mack?”

“Here, Damian. The building is secure,”Mackenzie answered for them.

“We have another problem,”he replied tiredly.

“Yeah, and we heard all about it. But you’re after facin’ another problem, Aether,”Fintan said.“There’s a new team of Sentinels linin’ up outside the feckin’ building.”

The desire to rage, to shout, “Enough already,” was suffocating in its intensity.

“I can’t think about them now. That’s for you and Mack to defuse. I need Creed to tell me how to disarm these fucking explosives.”

“I’d have to see one. I can’t just tell you to cut the red wire like they do in the movies, Dethridge.”

“I figured it was too much to hope for. Hang tight.”

“Beastie, are you still holding strong?”

“Yes, Papa, but you have less than two minutes.”

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