Necro wouldn’t let it drop this time. “You may not like Ridley, but she’s one of us. We’re not going to let Silas Ravenwood have her. She’s practically in the band.”
Floyd sighed.
Link wanted to hug Necro, but he knew she’d rather have him slug her in the right eye. “Pound it,” he said, grinning.
“Glad we ironed all that out,” Sampson said. “You gonna make us hug now? Or can we go after Nox? Even though we don’t actually know where we’re going.” John started to protest, but Sam waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. You know a guy. I heard.” He eyed the flowered couch. “Anything has to be better than sitting around here.”
John’s eyes were on Link, and Link could feel the questions coming. Who is this Nox guy and why does Rid make him act crazy? And what does the Illusionist chick have against Rid?
Get in line, Link thought.
John took Liv’s hand and nodded at Sampson. “The big guy has a point. Why don’t we get out of here and stop wasting time?”
“After you, little guy.” Sampson held the door as they all filed outside and locked it behind them.
“We need to find the closest Outer Door to the Tunnels,” John said.
Sampson nodded up the street. “No problem. It’s not far.” He took off with Lucille trotting behind him. The cat had taken a liking to the big Darkborn. Link hoped it would give Sampson some cred with John and Liv.
Link and Floyd followed Lucille, while Necro fell into step next to John and Liv. “So who’s this guy who knows where the labs are?”
“He’s a musician,” John said. “And he hates Abraham Ravenwood almost as much as I do.”
Link stopped in his tracks. “Dude. I swear. I have no idea where the labs are.”
John clapped his hand against Link’s back. “And I swear he’s not you.”
Sampson turned down an alley, which looked like a dead end. By now, Link had seen enough Outer Doors to know better. Casters were experts at hiding the doors that led from the Mortal world into their own. It was one of the most annoying things about them, from a head-banging-into-a-hidden-doorframe perspective.
The wall in front of them was covered in Banksy-style graffiti. In the spray-painted mural, a girl in round glasses was taking a picture of a smartphone that was taking a picture of a smartphone that was taking a picture of a smartphone. It went on and on until you couldn’t make out the images anymore.
“There it is.” Sampson nodded at the mural.
“A palimpsest?” Liv touched the concrete wall.
“You mean, like Aunt Del?” Link asked.
Liv nodded. “In a way. A palimpsest is a picture within a thousand pictures that goes on endlessly. The way Aunt Del sees places at different points in time, all at once. It’s actually sort of brilliant, for a Caster door.”
Link tried not to think about what a dingbat Lena’s Aunt Del was sometimes. “Hope it works better than Aunt Del’s memory.”
“Everything works better than Aunt Del’s memory,” Liv pointed out.
“Except maybe her watch,” John said. Which was true; there was nothing like getting lost in time to make a person late for dinner.
Sampson reached out and traced the painted black outline around the largest smartphone in the mural. His fingers slid into the wall, revealing a hidden groove.
“Aperi portam,” Sampson whispered. The image of the cell phone disappeared, and the wall slid back, exposing a narrow passageway. He held out his hand. “Ladies first.”
Liv shoved her way between Link and Floyd. “Why is it that guys always say that when you’re about to go somewhere fairly dreadful and potentially dangerous?”
Sampson smiled. “I was trying to be a gentleman.”
Liv’s eyes darted from the bike chain around his neck to his tattooed arms and leather pants before she slipped through the opening in the wall. Caster or not, Liv was still one of the bravest girls Link had ever met, right along with the one who went through next.
Atta girl, Lucille.
Floyd seemed unwilling to be shown up by a Mortal girl and a cat and strode forward, pulling Necro by the arm along with her.
Only the boys were left behind.
“Want to tell me where we’re headed?” Sampson asked. “Or who this guy you know is?”
“I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you,” John said as the last sliver of the Mortal world disappeared.
“How far did you say it was?” Link looked back at John, almost bumping his head for what had to be the tenth time.
The ceiling in the narrow Caster Tunnel was so low that Link, Sampson, and John had to bend over as they walked. Even Liv had to slouch.
“I didn’t,” John said. “Stop complaining. It’s not far.”
Floyd shuffled along behind Necro. “How did you hit your head? You don’t even have to duck.”
“Link’s stupid cat ran in front of me,” Necro said.
“Her name’s Lucille,” Link said. “I wouldn’t call her stupid. She probably understands what we’re sayin’. She’s ornery, just like the old ladies who gave her to me.” Link heard Lucille’s feet pattering across the dirt toward a circle of pale light in the distance ahead of them.
“And that is rather an understatement,” Liv said.
“Please let there be a high ceiling in my future,” Sampson said. The Darkborn was so tall that he was practically doubled over. His back had to be aching by now. Though Link still wasn’t exactly sure how much pain Supernaturals like Sampson felt.