Lapis streaked away from the footboards and zipped through the entry before anyone else. She slowed after reaching the walkway, but Patch grabbed her hand and did not stop.

The click click of Sanna’s hoofbeats followed them, drowned out by thump thump as Vali brought up the rear. A brief burst of fear for the terron struck her before the deafening explosion tore through the air.

She did not feel it, and no debris fell around them. She halted with Patch beneath a dim lantern, and Sanna skidded to a stop, Jhor avoiding colliding with her with a twist to the left. Hoping the large lizard had not used her body as a shield, she looked back; a large piece of metal blocked the bay’s door—where had Vali pulled it from?—and her bulk held it in place. Orangy-yellow rays filtered through the slits, flickering, along with black smoke.

“Vali! Are you hurt?” Sanna called. She rumbled and signed.

“Do you have a way to put out fires?” Jhor asked. Vali replied.

“Maybe for the wood, but not the tech,” the khentauree translated. “And she doesn’t have breathing equipment.” The terron coughed with a full chest behind it, proving her point.

“Maybe we should just let it burn,” Jhor said, though he did not sound confident in the suggestion.

“I have decoded the signal,” Sanna said. Vali looked at the barrier before moving away, shaking her head and wheezing. “It detonated the footboards.”

Patch narrowed his eyes. “That’s not a Jilvayna way of doing things. Advanced tech’s too precious to destroy it like that.”

“Especially now that the empire’s future is in question,” Jhor agreed. “Replacements won’t be easy to find. Anything else about the signal, Sanna?”

“It was weak. It came from inside Jiy.”

“So a purposeful detonation from a far-removed entity?” the modder asked, staring at the orange-shrouded doorway.

Vali moved further from the smoke, then paused to sign.

“She says the smoke smells odd,” Sanna translated. “I will monitor the fire. I do not have lungs made wheezy by odd smoke.”

Unease crept through Lapis, and she rubbed at her breastbone. Had the shanks wanted Vali to confiscate the tech so they could take her out during a time of lax defense? Why? What else had they added to the explosion to make it smell strange?

Jhor patted her back. “Don’t go in by yourself to look around,” he cautioned. “Wait for me to get appropriate gear. You might not have lungs, but your chassis isn’t fire-proof, either.”

She nodded and focused on the makeshift metal barrier. Vali led the way back to the foyer, hacking hard enough to cause worry. The terron shuffled up the ramp and retrieved a barrel from the kitchen. She popped the lid and tipped it, sticking her tongue into the water and lapping fast.

“Do you need to see a doctor?” Lapis asked. Vali shook her head, but she expected that, having dealt with stubborn Patch and rats concerning health issues. “If you start feeling strange in any way, something that isn’t due to coughing, we’ll get someone to look at you.”

Jhor watched the terron drink, arms folded, tapping on his biceps. “I can do it. As a modder, I have some medical knowledge, and maybe a better understanding of what keltaitheerdaal-contaminated smoke can do.” He sighed and turned his attention towards the bay. “Either this was a deliberate hit, or someone doesn’t want anyone else to touch their tech.”

“I’d say deliberate hit,” Patch murmured. “Nothing happened until we entered the bay. It’s weird though, if they monitored the area through some device on the footboards, that they didn’t trigger the explosion when she stuck them in the bay in the first place.”

“Doesn’t make much sense,” Jhor muttered.

Vali jerked her head up, then pointed towards the front door. They silenced. Patch drew a rectangular metal object from his pocket and triggered the unfolding, revealing a small crossbow. Lapis adjusted her gauntlets, made certain the fit was snug, and pulled the handles into her palm as a shing of anger-laden sadness ripped through her. How dare an enemy intrude on Vali’s home? What had the terron ever done to deserve that? She shoved the emotions back down where they belonged; time enough later to burn in fury.

Shouts echoed to them, none too pleased, accompanied by the bang bang of someone trying to beat down the door.

“Vali, do you have an escape route?” Patch asked.

She nodded.

“Good. Get Jhor and Sanna out. We’ll distract whoever’s at the door.”

She set the barrel down, rumbled softly, and signed.

“If the back door leads into a different tunnel, lock the entertainment room and leave. Is there a way we can open it from this side?”

She nodded, then did her best to conceal her cough.

“Yeah, you’re not in the best shape to fight, after breathing that smoke. So we’ll cover while you evacuate.”

She moved to the wall and pointed at the metal jamb, then dug her claws into it and pried a door out from its hidey hole. Near the dented edge, at terron shoulder height, was a circle with four holes; three on top, one on the bottom. She stuck her claws in and turned; the door slid quickly into place. Making certain they watched, she rotated the circle three times to the right, stopping when it clicked. Then she reversed, turning four times and halting with another click.

A terron-specific lock. Nice.

Jhor pulled a small oval device from the inner pocket of his duster. He held one end to his mouth and pressed a large round button the same black color as the tech. “Sanna, we’re leaving.”

“When she gets here, lock the door and go,” Patch said. He motioned to Lapis, and they quiet-ran to the front entrance. Wishing her heart would stop pounding so hard in her ears, she concentrated on the muddled sounds from the unexpected enemy.

The closer they got to the door, the louder and more panicked the shanks sounded. A woman’s stern rebuke yelled over them, but the defensive, fear-shrouded chatter immediately continued.

“Who’s gonna ‘ear us?” The resentful growl remained steady enough, Lapis could distinguish the words among the echoes. “Yous sayin’ they’d be down senseless.”

Lapis glanced at Patch. Was that why the terron had a hard time with the smoke? That odd thing she smelled was supposed to knock her and whomever was with her unconscious? His sharp nod meant he heard, and he slowed his pace.

“Y’know how much ‘e paid fer them things?” a whiny man asked. Lapis pictured him hunched over, wringing his hands because he expected punishment for the deed. “What iffen she fell on’ m?”

“He can buy more.” The woman had a Dentherion accent, though she did not sound confident in her Jilvaynan. “Back up.”

Patch grabbed Lapis’s hand, and they hid behind a partition with a poster on it. He pressed his lips against her ear. “Eggs,” he whispered.

She gasped, then calmed her racing heart. The eggs she recently encountered in Jiy did not function, and there was no reason to think these were wired correctly, especially if they got them from a local source. Was it the same ‘he’ they hired the shanks from? If so, she would guess Diros or Hoyt had a hand in the attack.

They waited. And waited.

“Do these things work?” the woman asked, sharp with testy disbelief.

“’E paid good money fer ‘m.” The whiny man wheezed. “I’s not knowin’ why they’s not workin’. I’s no techie!”

“That gas won’t last long. We need to get in there.”

Gas? No gas, but smoke. Perhaps the explosion was a mistake, and the enemy attempted to trigger the gas and the keltaitheerdaal had other ideas. The whiny man’s words hinted that they knew something happened to the footboards. Had they used advanced tech to bring crates of mods into Jiy as a trick to lure Vali into snatching it all, so they could knock her and any companions out?

Patch nuzzled her ear. “Two are carrying aquatheerdaal tech that I think are weapons, but they don’t seem to be on.” He pressed his fingers against his patch, and the pattern changed.

“So some ring is going after Vali and whoever was with her, wanting to bring them down with gas instead of fire. But why? That seems ludicrous when they could throw a canister or two at her for the same effect.” She blew her breath out in a harsh hiss. “None of this makes sense. What about the eggs?”

“I’m not picking up a detonation device, so ignorance might explain the lack of boom. Or they’re duds. You’re better able to tell than I am.”

She scratched at her chin with her bent thumb. “I’m betting both are right. What do you want to do?”

“They’ll be back once they get explosives they think will get them inside. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

And they would tear up her home when they realized no one was there. “What if they think they made a mistake? They’d have no reason to return if they don’t think she lives here.”

He eyed her as she released the gauntlets’ handles, wrapped her scarf around her nose and mouth, and pulled her hood tight around her face. She patted his arm and rose. Was she doing this? Yes, she was.

“Lapis—”

She trotted to the door, and he hastened to catch her, flipping his hood over his head and tugging the high neck on his shirt up to mask his lower face. She stopped near enough the portal she was certain they would hear her, then sucked in a deep breath.

“Who the fuck are you?” she yelled.

All words died. Lapis spent time loudly throwing the locks and grumbling, then swung the door open. Scattered around the entrance were eggs, gleaming a dull green-grey in the ambient light from both the dim lantern to the side of the door and the hand-held lamps several shanks clutched. Muttering nonsense, she grabbed one, a stray thought for her father’s alarm when she, an unknowing child, brought him one because it shimmered pretty.

The one she held was not pretty, but coated in dust and fingermarks from the one who placed it. How long had the thing been in storage?

“What are you doing?” the woman screamed in Lyddisian, stepping towards her, hand on top of her fuzzy fur hat to keep it in place. The man at her side snagged her free arm and dragged her to the opposite wall, his angry terror blatant. The shanks gaped, frozen in place by shock.

Lapis pressed the top and popped the egg open, looked with grim annoyance at the panicked group, and turned the insides towards them. She slid her fingers under all the wires and jerked them out of their holes. Shanks pivoted and ran away, their lights swinging wildly and casting grotesque shadows on the walls. Mindless panic swung into confusion in the ones too frozen to move.

How many were there? Over thirty? Were they planning to haul Vali out through manpower? Then what? Carry her to the exit? Did they realize how awkward and heavy an unconscious, grown terron was? Or maybe she was thinking of this wrong. When she slapped a cloth soaked in sleep oil from Grandin’s over a shank’s nose and mouth, she planned to cart them somewhere after they passed out. Did they want to loot instead? What did they think she had, that they went to these lengths to obtain?

“I haven’t found an egg in Jiy that’s ever worked,” she said, also in Lyddisian, heavy on the sarcasm. She kicked one; it flew into the group, landed, spun. They scattered as it rocked to a stop, and most kept going. “All duds.” She kicked another, wondering who they purchased them from. Diros? Perhaps his selling worthless tech would catch him quicker than she expected.

“Who are you?” the woman asked, her voice huffy under the quivering, a petulant expression attempting to cover her initial punch of fear. She and the man who snagged her arm walked back to the door, drawing what Lapis assumed were weapons. They were thin, rectangular black metal objects with a cyan circle at the top of one side that glowed, but not with the brightness expected of tech. They both readjusted their grip to point the circle at her and Patch, but she doubted their aim; their arms trembled too much for accurate strikes, despite the fact it looked like all they had to do was push a button on the back to activate them.

They wore jank coats, though something seemed off about them. Having dealt with the unwarranted confidence of previous agents, their lack of poise scratched at her.

“Who are you?” the woman asked again, tipping the weapon’s top at her.

“A chaser,” Lapis said as she tossed the unwired egg into the middle of the tunnel, far enough from the door the pieces would not interfere in a potential fight. “And here you are, making certain my day is a little worse than normal.”

“That’s what you do, not who you are,” she snapped.

“Then call me Chaser.” She picked up another egg and popped it open. “That’s all a jank and her guttershanks need to know.”

The woman flinched, an odd reaction to the obvious. She tore the wires out of the egg while Patch leaned against the doorframe, crossbow pointed up. His hood sagged to the right, just enough to hide his patch, though, since he turned off the lights that raced around the edge, it looked like an unexceptional black covering.

“Alright, Chaser. Why are you here?” the other jank asked, his attention on the three eggs still lying at the door.

If they expected them to work, why had they remained so close to a potentially volatile explosion? How many had they placed there? Seven? Maybe he liked the thought of glass shards striking his face.

The five remaining shanks looked at each other, at Patch, and edged away from the two janks. They must recognize him, and she found it interesting they did not tell their Dentherion partners they faced the most infamous chaser in Jiy. No loyalty but to their underboss, and no reason to endanger themselves for the empire’s pleasure.

“Answer me!” the jank yelled, the same testiness the woman used filling his voice. “Why are you here?”

She rolled her eyes up, amused that such a little thing irritated them so badly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“A lizard has a nest in there.” He sounded so certain despite her and Patch standing in the door, no terron in sight.

“A lizard nest?” She looked at her partner, who shrugged. Maybe her assumption about looting was correct, though why they targeted Vali was still a pressing question. “Yeah, any lizard nest in Jiy is in the Pit’s temple. I’m sure the carrion lizards would welcome you digging through their home.”

The shanks crept farther away. She almost brought attention to them, but she would much rather fight two abandoned janks than all seven of them.

The man raised his chin. “We need to get in and see.”

Lapis raised an eyebrow in turn, incredulous. “Get in and see if there’s a lizard nest? I’m not letting you into my hideout because you’re lizard-hunting. If you’re so interested, the Pit has quite a few of them. Go grab one. I’m sure the guards will let you in.” She tossed the egg to the side and snagged another one.

“Why do you know so much about those?” the woman asked, pointing her weapon tip at the one she held. Lapis’s stomach swirled at the thought of her accidentally triggering it and fought for her Lady Lanth aplomb.

“I picked one up as a child. My father had a fit from here to the ocean and back, then had the guard teach me how to disarm them because he knew I’d pick up another one when left unattended.” She sighed with exasperated dismay. “I thought they had a pretty shine, and he figured I’d not be able to resist touching another one. But, because of the training, I unwittingly stopped quite a bit of mischief.”

The woman stared in aghast disbelief. “No father would do that!”

“My father did because shanks don’t care if children get killed while they play their territory games. He did it to save me and anyone I was with.” She swept her hand at the remaining two eggs. “I mean, you dumped these off at a strange door, and you had no idea who was inside. What if a family or two took shelter here to get out of the cold up top?” She laughed and popped it open. “I doubt dead kids would bother you much.” She eyed their coats as she pulled the wires out. “Word is, your buddies kidnapped and killed a street kid. He was begging for his life, and your friends didn’t give a shit.” She threw the egg halves down the tunnel, where they clattered against the dirt-covered ground, tumbled, then rolled to a stop.

“You think they killed a kid.” The man brushed at his coat, self-conscious, then narrowed his eyes.

“Your buddies weren’t quiet about it,” she said. “People who live in the Grey Streets heard them, saw them. They may not have interfered because they knew they’d be next if they did, but they took note and warned the rest of us. Empire shanks willing to end a helpless kid wouldn’t hesitate to take out anyone else.” She kicked the second-to-last egg with enough force, it whacked the opposite wall before it struck the ground, bounced, and twirled.

Both jumped. The woman pointed her weapon at her head. “And do you know where those agents are?”

“Nope. Why would I? I don’t make a habit of keeping track of Dentherions. Want to find one? Go visit the Night Market. They’re probably there, drowning their sorrows.” She studied the last egg, then kicked it as hard as she could at the janks. They squawked and stumbled to the side to avoid the twirling metal—and then realized they stood alone. They jerked around, searching, but the shanks had successfully crept away.

Patch chuckled but kept his weapon pointed up, a sign he did not find them intimidating. The glare the man gave him proved he did not like the insinuation, but while the two brandished weapons, they did not fire. She bet the aquatheerdaal that powered them was low or non-existent, and they only had the threat of previous bad behavior to back them.

She smacked her hands together, cupping her palms just enough she did not trigger her gauntlets; dust puffed up from her fingers. “Have fun hunting lizards.” She turned to retreat through the door.

“You’re going to let us in!” the woman screamed, thrusting her weapon at her. “We know there’s a lizard down here. A giant one!”

“Giant lizards are in the Pit,” Lapis reminded her, turning back and settling her knuckles on her hips. “It’s true, they go for walks sometimes, but never during End and Final Year. It’s a bit chilly for them. But if you’re patient, stick around for Mid Year, meet Mama Poison when she makes her rounds. Just don’t get too near—she isn’t fond of shanks, and attacks accordingly.”

The woman’s hand clenched the weapon harder, but she did not fire. “We’ll be back. Then we’ll see, who’s the shank.”

Lapis raised an eyebrow. “Will you, now. You must want this giant lizard really, really bad, to waste time scrounging through a human chaser’s base for them.”

The enemy’s eye twitched.

Patch pushed from the jamb. “But who are we, to tell External Empire Agency janks what to do?” he asked with sarcastic boredom. They both started at his voice. “So sure, waste time, come back with more dead eggs and scared shanks. Can’t wait to watch them run off again.”

“If you’re harboring it—”

“Harboring it?” Hate raced through Lapis, and she slammed it back into the pit of her stomach. “You act like a carrion lizard’s a wanted criminal. Why? Did a jank get too close to the Pit and fall in? They’re not picky about who they munch.”

The man hmphed. “Funny, how you talk so tough, and have no idea the metgal you’re sitting on.” His smile widened, taking on a hint of rage, as he lowered his weapon. “Don’t be here when we get back.”

Patch laughed. “And we’re supposed to ditch and run, like the shanks? Hate to tell you, but not everyone in Jiy is a cowardly undershank. You’re right, though. We are sitting on a bunch of metgal—and we expect quite the reward for entertaining you two.”

Lapis only blinked twice before Patch slipped his arm around her and pulled her out of the doorway. Men and women, holding long-barreled tech and ready to fire, rushed out. The woman threw her weapon at them rather than shoot, a poor attempt at distraction. Two steps into her run and they caught her; she kicked, leg high, trying to strike with her heel, and missed. The arrival who return-kicked did not. She fell to her knees with a gasping cry while her partner dropped his tech and raised his hands.

Too easy. Lapis wondered if they were shanks who used the jank presence in the Grey Streets to cover their illicit dealings because they did not behave like trained spies.

The woman bringing up the rear stopped in the doorway; Layne. She had expected rebels, not Minq, but she was happy to see them.

“Your new friends are fast when it comes to communications,” Layne said, tapping her forehead before pulling her dark red hood further down. “We even caught us a shank or two on the way in.” She nodded her head towards the interior, and Lapis slipped through the door, Patch close behind. They stepped far enough away that their whispers would not reach the janks, and the Minq leaned in close.

“Good timing,” Patch said, tugging his collar down.

“Better than I expected. The shanks aren’t interested in protecting foreign interests when faced with a Minq interrogator. We’ll get the info to you as soon as we have a good idea what’s going on.”

“Thanks, Layne.” He folded his crossbow up. “I’m not sure they’re janks. They aren’t acting as I’d expect agents to act, and I’ve never heard of one hiring a guttershank for any work, either.”

“Cowl brought word that the new high councilor put a loyalist in charge of spywork, and he’s stuffing sycophants into vacant positions. They have no training or any idea what they’re doing.”

Lapis pointed to the exterior. “They dumped a bunch of eggs at the door, but none of them work.”

Layne rolled her eyes. “Of course. We’ve seen an influx of fake ones used by shanks who can’t afford a meal, let alone tech.”

“Blame Diros,” Patch said, loathing deepening his tone. “Or Hoyt. He’s not around to make certain his shanks keep their hands to themselves.”

She snorted. “Not a surprise, in either case. Follow the open doors to the back. We told Vali we’d stick around until rebel guards get here, to keep an eye on that fire.”

“They were talking about gas and knocking Vali and whoever was with her out.” Patch stuffed his crossbow into his inner pocket. “It’s not a stretch to think the keltaitheerdaal explosion was an accident.”

Layne winced. “We’ll find out and let you know.” She held up her forefinger. “And Faelan has a task for you. Midir and Jo Ban are coming to Jiy, and he wants you to be in the honorguard.”

Patch’s eye lidded and his lips twisted in grumpy annoyance. Lapis batted his arm with her shoulder, amused.

“Meet them at the Overroute.”

“If it’s such an honor, Faelan can do it,” Patch muttered.

“Faelan is meeting with underbosses right now. He probably wishes he were at the Overroute.”

He was? Lapis wished he had mentioned that. She rubbed at her nose; smoke tickled it. Hopefully the Minq had an idea how to care for the fire. She slipped her hand into Patch’s, nodded to Layne, and tugged her reluctant partner towards the back door.