A small wry grin appeared on Ronika’s face. “There are a lot of things more valuable than money. The fact that you’re sitting here tells me a lot about you. All I want in return for the answers to your questions is one simple favor.”
That seemed way too good to be true. Michael had been gaming for long enough to know there were a million terrible things she could ask them to do.
“What favor?” he asked hesitantly.
The smile hadn’t left her face. “Oh, I couldn’t say now. I will tell you when I need it.”
Michael had no clue how the woman could say such innocent things and make them sound so menacing. And yet at the same time he found himself liking her.
“Deal,” Bryson said, not bothering to consult with his friends first. But Michael had no heart to complain; they didn’t really have much choice but to accept.
“And you two?” Ronika said, looking at Sarah, then Michael.
They both nodded.
“But we have to hurry,” Bryson said. “My Tracer is thumping and I wanna get out of here.”
Michael didn’t need to weigh the options.
“Fine,” Ronika said, seemingly satisfied with their arrangement. “Ask your questions.”
2
Michael had gotten his friends into this mess, so he conducted the interview, despite his instinct to run. They couldn’t come this far and get nothing. He decided to just be quick and to the point. And even though they’d come specifically to ask about the Path, he was going to find out as much as he could.
“Kaine,” he began. “Have you heard of something linked to him—something secret, hidden deep inside the VirtNet?”
“Yes.”
Michael held back his excitement. “Any details?”
Ronika remained straight-faced. “Almost nothing. But I think there’s definitely something major happening.” Her calm was maddening to Michael—he couldn’t tell if she knew more than she was letting on.
“Cutter said something about a path.”
She nodded. “Yes. The Path. With a capital P. How that man finds out about these things, I have no idea.”
“What is the Path?” Sarah asked.
Ronika didn’t hesitate, which gave Michael confidence she was telling the truth. “It’s the only way to get to the Hallowed Ravine, a place hidden deep within the Sleep—just like Kaine and the Path itself. Again, that’s a capital H and a capital R. The word is, that’s where Kaine’s doing his business. It’s nearly impossible to get to—and they say it has several layers of infallible security measures surrounding it. As you seem to know, however, there’s always a way through. Always.”
“The Path,” Michael repeated.
Ronika nodded. “The Path.”
Michael noticed that Bryson’s knee was bouncing up and down.
“Closer?” Michael asked him.
“He’s practically right outside this room, man.” Bryson looked at the ceiling, his eyes lit with worry. “We need to go.”
“You’ll be fine,” Ronika said. But for the first time since they’d arrived, Michael sensed the slightest doubt in her voice. “I can only tell you where to start. I’ve never been on the Path, and I have no interest in doing so.”
Michael leaned forward, so excited to finally have some hard information. “Okay, where do we go?”
“Have you ever played Devils of Destruction?”
Michael shook his head. Devils of Destruction was a lame war game that only old people played. “Never wanted to.”
“Because that game sucks,” Bryson threw in. “No wonder it starts there—no one would ever notice it. You’d have to be desperate and bored to play that game.”
Ronika’s expression seemed to have become a little more tense. She was nervous, and they could hear it in her voice. “There’s a trench somewhere in the hot zone of the battlefield that has a weak spot in the code. If you can hack your way through that weak spot, there’s a Portal to the Path. That’s all I know.” She stood up. “Now our business is done, and please don’t forget your debt. I will collect at some point.”
“What’s wrong?” Michael asked her, standing up himself.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe I was a little overconfident about our safety.”
Even as she said it, Michael heard one of the worst sounds he’d heard in his life.
3
It was unearthly, something between a high-pitched screech and a howl. A scream that was impossibly grating, discordant and harsh. He clamped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. All he wanted was for it to stop.
For what had to be a full minute, the sound tore through his body. Then it ended.
Michael opened his eyes and tentatively lowered his hands. Sarah and Bryson were both pale, as if they might throw up. Even Ronika was no longer the picture of calmness she’d been earlier.
“What was that?” Bryson breathed.
“It’s not Kaine your Tracer picked up,” Ronika answered. “He sent … something else.”
A low rumbling noise started, which somehow seemed to come from everywhere at once, shaking the room around them, then passing into a long moment of silence. All four of them were frozen in place. Michael was embarrassed to admit it, but he was waiting for Ronika to tell them what to do.
The screech exploded through the air again, piercing and raw. Michael fell back on the couch, clamping his hands back over his ears. The noise cut off sooner than before, and he scrambled to his feet, no longer willing to rely on their host.
“Come on,” he said, pointing at the door Ronika had come through earlier. “Let’s get out of—”
Another eruption of the awful scream sliced off his words, but Bryson and Sarah got the point. They started moving toward the exit, but a sound like a breaking tree branch sent Michael stumbling. He turned to look just as a shadowy hand twice the size of a human’s crashed through the wall, sending huge pieces of wood flying through the air. Michael ducked to avoid the debris before he got a good look. The huge fingers lit up with a flash of yellowish light from within.
Michael hit the rug on his knees, arms curled over his head to protect himself. He heard the click-click-click of what had to be nails or claws scratching the wood on the other side of the wall, a few huffs of monstrous breath.