Another gun shot and I was moving low along the catwalk. Mike and Thruor had dived for cover on either side of the door.

Then, one of them did what I would have done. He stepped over to Monica and put his gun against her head even as the other three came in. “One step closer and she dies. That includes whoever’s upstairs.”

I froze. Okay. Think. Think hard. Could I go so completely invisible they didn’t notice me, if he had his attention on Mike?

I would have to be sure he really did have his attention on Mike before trying that.

Mike spoke. “Kidnapping, Johnson, really?”

“Involving civilians?”

“These aren’t civilians and you know it. Look. You only had to ask.”

“She wouldn’t tell us.”

“It doesn’t work to order.” Clara’s voice, and while she didn’t move, it almost seemed as if the attention of the entire scene drifted to her. “Whatever prophecy you wanted, she couldn’t call it up. That’s divination, and even then it’s not reliable.”

Now wasn’t the time for a magical theory lesson. Or maybe it was exactly the time. I wasn’t sure which. It was getting their attention.

“Something really bad’s going to happen. We need all the information we can get. And you really shouldn’t involve civilians.”

“Why?” Mike asked.

“Because we can’t let any of you leave.”

Somebody was coming up the stairs. I turned towards him. “Don’t. Let’s not fight. I’d kick your butt.”

“Kid like you?”

I smiled. “I’d take you without a gun when you had two. Like the Detective said. We aren’t civilians.”

“You’re in over your head.”

“No. You are. How about we go downstairs?”

He frowned, but turned to the stairs. “I found her. Just another kid.”

“Don’t turn your back on her.”

He already had, but I resisted the temptation to shoot him in it. Monica might be better off dying as a hostage than wasting away, but that wasn’t my decision to make for her.

Instead, I tucked my gun back into my belt and followed him downstairs.

“I’d rather have answers,” I said, finally, “Than your blood.”