Page 31 of Burning Ice
Helianth’s fingers flew across his multi-slate.
“Where?” Moargan asked.
“Factory quarter. Old district.”
“I can see the outer door,” Yure murmured, wiping sweat from his lip. “Not what’s behind it.”
“Try triangulating,” a Luminary guard said.
“Already doing it, but the address rewrites itself. Someone’s feeding false coordinates. They want us chasing ghosts. But the power draw’s real, like something alive behind that lock.”
“What kind of draw?” Kylix asked.
“It’s spiking in intervals,” Yure said. “Seventeen seconds between peaks, then a flat line, then a surge again. That is not random. That is a pulse.”
“Local or patched?”
“Patched. They hijacked municipal relays in the outer rings and bounced through two private servers in the docks. One’s listed as a textile archive. It hasn’t logged a legal user in years.”
“Ghost fronts,” Moargan said. “Classic.”
Yure nodded. “They seeded mirrors so if we cut one hop the others keep the loop alive. You’d need three teams at once to choke it.”
Kylix’s mouth thinned. “You have two.”
“I know.” Yure didn’t look up. “That’s why I’m not cutting anything yet.”
The rain of code thickened. Blocks rose and collapsed. Mirel watched color move like tide. He didn’t understand the language. He understood the rhythm. It matched the hum under his skin.
Kylix braced one hand on the counter and leaned closer to the screen. “Mask our query,” he said. “If it feels us, it’ll run.”
“I already did.” Yure’s fingers blurred. “We’re coming in under waste-management pings. Boring as dirt. With luck they ignore it.”
Helianth whistled softly. “Someone very patient built this.”
“Someone scared,” Aviel said. “You only hide like this if you think we can touch you.”
“Or if you want us to chase,” Kylix said. “Leave a door half open and watch who walks through.”
Mirel felt Kylix’s shoulder brush his. The contact was light. It fixed him to the floor. The pulses on the screen crawled along the black door, each flare catching in Kylix’s pupils like sparks held in stone.
“Seventeen,” Yure counted. “Sixteen. Fifteen.” Keys clicked. “If they show us the door again, I can ride the next spike and tag the frame. It won’t hold long.”
“Do it,” Kylix said. “And scrub our trail the moment you’re out.”
“Always.” Yure’s mouth twitched. “I like existing.”
Blue and green light washed across their faces as data fell like rain. Mirel’s eyes ached, every flicker reflected in Kylix’s pupils, fire caught in glass. His breath slowed to match the rhythm of the pulses, the same hum that had bound him to Kylix since the frost first touched him.
Kylix leaned in close, his nose brushing Mirel’s temple. “Find me a perimeter,” he said low. “I want a district, not a riddle.”
“On it, sir.”
“Vandor, pick up two guards from the west wing. Check every location Yure pulls from those coordinates. Quiet and fast. Anything suspicious near the warehouses, report.”
“Sir.” Vandor was already moving, vanishing down the corridor.
“I thought most of those were empty?” Moargan asked.
