We both knew I wouldn’t be able to lift him, and I held my breath as he used the wall of the elevator to push himself up until he could lever first one foot, then the other through the opening and finally wedge himself up and in.
“Thanks,” he whispered as he found his feet, and I gave him a wan smile, rolling to a stand to try to beat the greasy dust off me. If we could gain the attic, we could walk above the offices and right to Landon’s apartments. There was an elevator bank on the other side of the building, and according to Ivy’s building plans, it ran from first floor to the attic as well.
“This should buy us some time.” Trent gently closed the trapdoor. Hands on his waist, he squinted up the dark shaft. Now that Jenks wasn’t moving, the only light was a thin ribbon from the closed elevator doors above us. “Tell me there’s a door there, Jenks.”
“If you’re four inches tall,” Jenks said, then snickered when Trent stiffened. “Relax. I wouldn’t have let you up here if there wasn’t a way out.”
Trent gestured to the maintenance ladder, and I reached for it, the cold in the iron seeming to soak into me. My pulse quickened from excitement as I rose, feet scuffing as I pushed myself into a faster pace. The bag holding the soul bottle hit me in rhythmic thumps in time with my lurching. It felt odd knowing I was going to use something that had saved my life to capture the baku. Bis had held the small glass bottle holding my soul the entire three days, according to Jenks.
I exhaled in relief when I reached the top, wrestling with the twin panel door until Trent noticed and scrambled up beside me on the ladder. “Go,” Trent grunted when the thick, age-darkened slabs slid aside with a squeak of dusty metal to show a dimly lit attic the length of the building. “You first.”
The doors weren’t under any pressure to close, so I slipped under his arm and made the step to the old floorboards. Trent easily swung himself in behind me, turning to close the doors behind us.
It was even colder up here and, arms about my middle, I squinted into the dusky gray to see that there wasn’t a shred of insulation, just bare boards and open rafters. Jenks’s glowing dust was enough to make out the occasional sheet-draped lump as he buzzed about to satisfy his pixy curiosity. Almost immediately he came back, his glow dimmed as he landed on my shoulder. It was colder than the outside, where at least the sun shone. There was no light but for Jenks and the glow of Trent’s phone as he angled it about. I could hear traffic on 71 and the sporadic sound of jays, but it only made me feel more alone.
“How you doing, Jenks?” I whispered.
“Stop being my mother,” Jenks griped, but his wings were cold as they pressed against my neck for warmth, and I was worried.
“Seriously, Trent and I have this. Go back downstairs and warm up,” I whispered.
“I’m fine,” Jenks said sourly. “Just keep walking straight. There’s another elevator about halfway down, and a third, smaller one at the end that I think will put us right beside Landon’s front door. Trent, what does your GPS say?”
Trent grunted a soft agreement, the glow of his phone lighting his face. I started forward, more worried about Jenks than about someone hearing us. I jerked, sputtering when I ran into a spiderweb. No one had been up here in years.
“Almost there,” Trent said, and Jenks’s dust brightened. “Rachel, I like your no-plan thing. It’s going to take them an hour to get the elevator open, and by then, we’ll be gone.”
“This isn’t no plan,” I said as I fumbled for my own phone to add to Trent’s light. See, I can do this without magic. But a faint pull drew my attention and my expression blanked. There was an old hearth up here, surrounded by unfamiliar ancient glyphs. “You see that?” I whispered, and Trent shifted his phone to it as well, his light following the smoke marks to the rafters.
“Guys, you can play archaeologist later. I’m freezing my nubs off,” Jenks complained.
“Take a picture,” I suggested, leaving Trent to do just that as I hustled forward with Jenks, my cell phone light swinging as I followed his terse instructions to an old elevator cage