“Great, so Marshall has twice as long before he goes and gets himself killed, very comforting,” she snapped, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What are you planning?” The orange light around her twitched like an angry cat’s tail.
“Don’t worry, this is going to be awesome. I can actually do the first part alone, just let me… ouch!” Jack snatched his hand back and stuck his injured finger in his mouth. “Why did you slap my hand away?”
“Why were you groping me?” Fourteen wasn’t about to allow someone he barely knew to touch him without permission, no matter what he was selling. Especially if merely looking at the man made Fourteen want to heave.
Jack smacked his forehead, and small rainbows splashed out from between his fingers, “Right, right, trust issues. There was a whole mess of them in that captivating brain of yours. Sorry, I get carried away sometimes.”
Adelle tapped her foot impatiently and cleared her throat before making a hurry the fuck up motion with her hand. Fourteen tried to ignore the way the color around her writhed, but he failed miserably.
Fourteen was finding it difficult to focus at minimum levels, let alone well enough to fight. Desperately, he reached for one of the cold places inside his head, trying to find his equilibrium. The effect was instantaneous; the conditioning wrapped around him and allowed him enough space to process the new information his eyes were giving him.
Now he could attend to the situation at hand.
Jack gave Adelle the stink-eye for her impatience and continued, saying to Fourteen, “Can I touch your clothes? I need to examine them to see what part of you I can attach my spell to. Your shield makes this sort of thing tricky.”
“Please say yes before we all die of old age,” Adelle pleaded. Her eyes turned toward the battle raging overhead. The orange around her was little more than an irritant for Fourteen now.
The part of Fourteen that wasn’t wrapped in cold screamed in protest. Allowing Jack to touch his hand was one thing, but to be poked and prodded like a specimen was another. And for what? Another magical surprise that may or may not distract him while he was trying to fight? He hated this. Everything about the situation he was in either pissed him off, scared him, or made him feel out of control.
But Fourteen couldn’t do this alone. Harper had most likely fucked off by now because he’d only agreed to stay long enough to be a distraction. Fourteen needed these damned guardians to get him out of this stupid pit, and Cym didn’t have the time for him to indulge his fears right now. Fourteen had no choice.
He gritted his teeth and ground out, “Just do it.”
Fourteen watched with barely leashed tension as Jack put a hand on his chest armor. Jack’s body froze the moment his fingers contacted the material.
“Huh,” he muttered, and his face grew thoughtful. Jack continued his exploration, running his hands lightly over the leather of Fourteen’s jacket. “I, ah, need to touch your pants too.”
“I said do it. Did you need an engraved invitation?”
“Just trying not to get stabbed,” Jack said, eyeing the metal plate still clenched tightly in Fourteen’s fist. He explored the pants quickly and efficiently, occasionally nodding to himself as he went. When he reached Fourteen’s boots he slowed and looked up. “You didn’t armor your boots?”
Fourteen felt his face heat up for some reason. It was a new sensation, and he wasn’t a fan. “I lose my shoes a lot. No point in wasting expensive materials.”
“Ooookay. I think I can work with this, but”—Jack paused with a strange expression on his face—“in order for the spell to take, I think I need your permission to do it. When I healed you, I was touching your skin. That was enough permission to breach your protections, but anything I place on your boots is going to slide off like water.”
Fourteen could hear shouting overhead, but it sounded distorted and slow, making it impossible to understand what was being said. He couldn’t hear the one voice he wanted to, and that was enough to quell any reservations he had about giving Jack permission. “You have my permission. Do your thing and get me back up there.”
A sound like thunder vibrated the walls around them. Neither guardian looked concerned, but Fourteen had already been in one rockslide this evening and didn’t like the idea of another.
Jack plopped his bulk on the ground next to Fourteen’s feet and went to work. “You might want to hold on to something, I’m going to need to layer this over the soles of your boots.” From his pocket he produced something egg-shaped that caught the light and refracted it, sending it bouncing off the walls.
Fourteen was forced to look away before its brightness completely ruined his eyes for night fighting. This turned out to be a mistake as Jack chose that moment to lift Fourteen’s boot off the ground. Only years of training kept him on his remaining foot.
Adelle held out her arm in offering, but Fourteen ignored it. She graciously accepted his choice and said, “Cym is safe for now. I juiced his brother up before I left, so right now Sterling's shield should be able to hold off a tank. Don’t worry, we’ll be back before it breaks.”
Jack dropped Fourteen’s boot and hoisted the other one into his lap, forcing Fourteen to touch Adelle’s still-proffered arm for five seconds to regain his balance. He could see her fighting down a smile before she turned her face away.
The thunderous rumbling shook the walls once more. Rather than ignoring it, Adelle jerked her head in surprise and shouted, “Incoming!”
Without hesitation, Fourteen tried to push Adelle to the floor so he could throw himself on top of her, but instead he bounced off her suddenly rock-hard form and was sent sprawling to the ground minus one boot. The top of their prison came crashing down as the rim collapsed, sending tons of rocks, dirt, and plant matter drifting down lazily as if the rubble had all the time in the world in which to crush them to death.
Jack continued working as though nothing had occurred.
It took a full thirty seconds for Fourteen to realize none of the debris had made it to the bottom of the hole. He rubbed his sore shoulder, feeling stupid and confused—he had hit Adelle with more force than he had intended. Had he hurt her?
Adelle stood where he had bounced off her, seemingly unscathed, with one hand reaching for the ceiling. He could see a ring on her index finger blazing orange, the same color as the translucent shield now hovering overhead.
Adelle turned to fix laughing, hazel eyes on him. “Sorry about that, but I couldn’t let you distract me.”
“No offense taken.” Fourteen was just glad his gaffe hadn’t killed them all. It was possible Cym had been correct when he suggested Fourteen’s ignorance of magic was dangerous. Fourteen sat up and caught his boot as it came sailing toward him.
“Done. Put it on, but don’t walk in them yet.” Jack turned to Adelle and asked, “Do I still have time to give him a weapon?”
Adelle cocked her head to one side, her eyes blank and unfocused. “Barely.”
“Okay, I can work with that. Throw me the thing.”
The thing ended up being a stick-like object, roughly the length of Fourteen’s forearm. He couldn’t conceive where Adelle had managed to store it under her clingy outfit. Jack plucked it casually out of the air when Adelle tossed it, making it look like a well-rehearsed move.
“It’ll be quick and dirty—” Jack waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “but better than nothing. Here, give me your hand.”
This time Fourteen obeyed without thought.
Jack took Fourteen’s hand and folded it over the stick. “We call this a dummy. It’s something made in the Dreamscape that can be brought to the Real and Crafted there. Usually Crafting can only be done in the ’Scape, but some people, like our boss, can make some truly remarkable things to bring into the Real. This was his invention.”
The object grew warmer, but not unpleasantly so.
“Okay, think about your favorite weapon—not a gun, please, that would be disastrous. Something without moving parts would be best.”
