Ivy tensed, suddenly four feet deeper into the room and ready to hit whatever came through the door, but the feet continued on without a pause. Relief slumped my shoulders when someone shouted they'd hold the elevator.
Coming forward, Ivy cracked the door, and Jenks slipped out. She counted to ten and then pushed the door entirely open. "Let's go," she said, face grim. "We just spent all our luck."
My knees were shaking at the near miss. They still didn't know we were here. I hoped.
Nick was sober as he came into the brighter light, and after a quick look behind us, we continued forward. We found Jenks hovering at a juncture, and my heart sank. We were lost.
"That way," Ivy said, pointing to the right, but Nick shook his head and pointed left.
"No," he said, looking determined. "You're right that magnetic resonances are capable of hiding the opening to the vault, but the vault isn't where the resonances are being generated. The vault is where the line is being pulled out of its channel."
Nick pointed the other way, and I sighed. God, not again. We'd already decided this.
A dangerous glint came into her already black eyes, Ivy said, "Fine, you go that way, I'm going the other. To the vault."
"We are not separating," I said, thinking Nick would rat us out.
"Trent won't put his vault next to a magnetic resonator where people work every day," Nick said irately. "The resonator is warping the nearby ley line, and where the line dips, that's where the vault will be, not the resonator itself. Watch, I'll prove it."
He turned to me, surprising me when he said, "Rachel? We're too deep for a line, right?" I nodded, and he added, "Reach for one." My eyebrows went up, and he said, "Just do it!"
"All right, all right," I muttered, relaxing just enough to do it. We were too deep for me to reach a ley line. Three stories at least. But my breath caught when I felt the faintest glimmer of strength not that far ahead and to the left. "I don't get it!" I whispered, telling Jenks with my head toss to get the camera's looping on the left corridor, and he buzzed off. "We're too deep."
"You've got to be kidding me," Ivy grumped, but when Jenks's ultrasonic wing scrape made my eyeballs hurt, I started forward.
"It's just devious enough to be true," I said dryly. They couldn't hear the pixy signals. Lucky them.
Nick all but sauntered beside me, and Jax joined us after we turned the corner. "It's Trent's magnetic-imaging system," Nick said. "Trent is going to use magic as well as technology to keep his vault closed. And for that, he'll need the ley line, unexpectedly pulled downward by a very powerful magnet, something no one would think twice about in a facility such as this."
He was right, but how had he known such a thing was possible?
"I'm telling you Trent won't use magic to close his vault," Ivy grumped. "He doesn't like magic."
But his security expert loved magic. And his dad had, too.
The hallway dead-ended at an encouragingly formidable set of double doors. The line had to be behind them, though; they were the only doors in the entire hall. The carpet was pristine, no coffee stains or scrapes. The air, too, felt stale. Jenks was at the camera in the corner, and when Jax took his place, the more experienced pixy dropped down to hover with us as we faced the oak doors. Reaching past Nick, I tapped it with a knuckle. Thick.
"Well, wonder boy," Ivy said sourly, "let's see what's behind door number three."
"It'll be there," Nick said indignantly as he slid a wired card into the card reader and proceeded to play Mr. Accountant on the attached device.
I shook my head, brow furrowed. Dropping back to where Jenks hovered, I fidgeted. Beyond the door were untold riches - my ticket to getting Trent, the coven, and Al off my case. Was I a thief if I was going to give it back? Did I care?
"Are you sure those cameras aren't recording?" I asked. Down at the end of the hallway, Jax huffed, and I tossed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "I feel like I'm being watched."
"This would be easier if it was quiet," Nick said, and Ivy frowned. Nick took his fingers from the keypad and cracked his knuckles. A slip of pixy dust dropped down to lubricate the electrons as much as for