Playing With Fire - Katie MacAlister [61]
‘‘They’re really tricky, and can be deadly if you don’t know what you’re doing,’’ I recalled her saying, leaning close and speaking quickly as Cyrene and Jim approached. ‘‘I went through four demons breaking Fiat’s bane, but honestly, I wouldn’t advise you to mess with anything Kostya has protected with a bane. It’s just bound to be too dangerous.’’
Those words came back to me now as I examined the door for signs of any weakness. There were none. A quick look at the other rooms, locked by conventional means, yielded nothing as well. I climbed out of the window of the room next to the sealed one, moving carefully along the narrow six-inch stone ledge. I had serious doubts that Kostya would be stupid enough to ignore any entrance into his lair, but figured it couldn’t hurt to check.
The window was guarded by not one, but three different security systems, brands I recognized as being nearly impossible to overcome. As I stood plastered against the side of the building, I thought furiously of any means to get into the room. Via the ceiling? From the floor below? Perhaps through the wall of the office next to it? Those and other hopeless ideas were squirreling through my brain when I noticed something odd about the window. . . . One of the panes of glass shimmered slightly in the stiff breeze that was coming off the river.
I laid a hand on it, prepared to make a fast getaway if the alarm gave any sign of a blip. But it didn’t. The glass gave way under my hand, swinging open silently, the little electronic box attached to it not giving the slightest indication that the alarm had been triggered.
I opened it a bit more and poked my head into the room to get a good close look at the electronic box. . . . It had been disabled.
‘‘Well, now. How about that?’’ I murmured, taking a fast look around the room with a penlight. The room itself was small and musty, with a curious airless feeling as if it had been sealed for a thousand years. It was empty of furniture, but one side of the wall was lined with three wooden chests, each bound with iron. Cautiously, I let myself down out of the window, bracing myself for sirens as I landed on the floor.
The room was as silent as the tomb of which it reminded me, every noise magnified. Even the breath I drew sounded oddly amplified. I checked all available surfaces for any other electronics, breathing a sigh of relief when I found none. Either Kostya had been imprisoned so long he’d forgotten how to guard the treasures in his lair, or . . . well, perhaps this wasn’t his lair after all.
I frowned at the door. ‘‘Then why bind a bane into the entrance?’’ I turned to look back at the window, trying to piece together the contradictions. I had taken a step toward the window when a very slight vibration shook the floor of the mezzanine.
Someone had closed the large metal door directly below where I stood. I had to get out of there . . . but could I count on such easy access to the lair any other time?
I didn’t debate the issue. I figured I had about thirty seconds to find both the phylactery and the amulet before Kostya—or whoever it was who had just come into the warehouse—made it upstairs. I flicked the penlight over the first of the three wooden chests. It was locked with a bright, shiny new lock, but nothing else. The second bore several powerful wards, and a couple of arcane spells keeping it shut. The latter wouldn’t stop me, but the former would slow me down considerably. The third chest was oddly unprotected.
The faintest of vibrations warned of someone coming up the metal staircase. Even a standard lock would take me too long to open—I crouched down before the third chest, my heart sinking as I realized that no one in their right mind would leave something so valuable as an amulet or the dragon phylactery sitting around unprotected. There were various antique art objects in the chest, mostly gold, but a few bejeweled pieces that looked valuable. Tucked down