Page 44 of Capture of Capricorn

“I’m not talking about the baby,” Sage huffed between her gritted teeth. “A vision hit me on the way to your room. We need to hide.”

“Why? What did you see?”

Sage stared at her with eyes that swirled freakishly and in a low monotone said, “Soon what was torn asunder shall be renewed. The fate of the world lies in the balance. Shall evil prevail, or will a champion sacrifice everything?”

The words sent a chill through Zora. “I don’t suppose you can repeat that in English.”

Sage’s expression cleared. “Danger. Here and now.”

“What kind? I thought Tower was like some super fortress no one could see?”

“Apparently, someone found a way. We have to hide until the warriors can return and deal with the threat.” Sage immediately strode for the door, whereas Zora eyed her toweled body.

“I’m gonna need a second to throw on some clothes. You get going and I’ll follow. Just tell me where to meet you.”

“Library. Given the knowledge within, it can transform into an impenetrable bunker in times of strife.”

“What strife? I thought Tower never had to deal with outsiders.”

Sage bit her lip. “The last time the library was sealed was to protect it from a peril within.”

“Hold on. Are you saying one of the warriors turned traitor?”

“I don’t know the full details.” Sage grimaced and sounded strained as she added, “Only that it had something to do with the thirteenth Zodiac.”

The floor rumbled, and items rattled as another tremor shook Tower.

“Um, maybe we should be exiting the building instead,” Zora suggested.

“We can’t. It’s too dangerous.” Sage’s head swiveled, and her voice took on an uncanny tone as she muttered, “They’re here.”

No point in asking who. Assuming bad guys kind of covered all the possibilities.

“I can’t go in a towel, but I don’t want you waiting to get your butt to the library. You go on ahead,” Zora ordered. “I’ll join you soon as I wedge my fat ass into some pants and put on a shirt.”

Sage looked undecided. “Maybe we should stay together.”

“I can catch up to your waddling butt easy,” Zora declared. And while some might have thought her comment rude, she knew the other woman well enough to know how she’d react.

Some of the panic eased as Sage snickered. “I can’t wait until I can ditch the penguin walk. Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t. Now, shoo. I’ll bet Tower’s got a nice warm blankie and one of those disgusting pickle milkshakes you’re so fond of waiting for you.”

“Mmm. With peanut butter.” Sage smacked her lips as she tottered out of the apartment.

Zora didn’t waste time snagging some pants and attempting to yank them over still-damp skin. Anyone who’d dressed right after bathing understood the battle that involved much hopping and hauling before convincing the fabric to slide up and over her hips. She eschewed a bra and threw her shirt straight on. If she ran into some bad dudes, maybe they’d be distracted by her protruding nipples. It certainly worked on Capricorn.

Thinking of him had her wondering how long until he returned. If Sage were right, then they could use a few warriors, assuming there was even a threat. The shaking hadn’t reoccurred, and she heard nothing untoward. Then again, given her spot, one could erupt on the first few levels and she’d never know. If they were about to be attacked, she assumed they’d have to enter through the main doors.

Perhaps she could ease Sage’s mind by taking a peek outside. Zora strode rapidly to the window and glanced to see the usual vista. Arid landscape. Scrubby brush. Agitated moat.

Wait a second. Since when did its waters—deadly according to Capricorn—undulate? The air remained still, so she couldn’t blame a breeze, yet no denying the roiling of the liquid. She wondered what agitated it until movement caught her eye and dropped her jaw.

A genuine mother fucking tank advanced toward the tower, its caterpillar tread easily humping over the uneven ground. When it reached the moat, the hatch at the top opened, and a man dressed in dark combat gear, which included helmet and some fancy-ass goggles, popped out. He knelt atop the tank, aiming some kind of tube-like contraption.

“Holy masked crusader,” Zora breathed as his device shot out a grappling hook that shot across the moat and hit the tower, anchoring itself. The guy tethered the other end of the rope to the tank before clipping himself to the line he’d strung across. He began to traverse, hand over hand, moving rapidly, his boots dangling a couple of feet above the moat.

What emerged from the liquid defied explanation. It wasn’t a creature, and yet the fluid that rose shaped itself into the snout of a crocodile and snapped its jaws around the man’s legs.

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