Chapter 16 - Putting the egg before the chicken

Posted on https://books.clockworkcaracal.com/dragons-heart/old-beginnings/ch16 - if you aren't there, this is a pirated copy!

Getting the egg would be easy. The problem was getting it out.

A magically hidden, magically shielded, officially non-existent basement facility had seemed like overkill, five minutes ago, but now that Fang knew what was in the facility, he was surprised there wasn't more. No, I'm sure there is more. If there's even the faintest hint of trouble down here....

Fang breathed slowly, focusing on staying calm, on holding the security systems with the small fraction of magic he could use so he didn't set off the alarms while he thought. His original escape route going back the way he came was worthless, now; there were too many people. He couldn't afford them finding out what he'd done until he was out of the building - preferrably out and several blocks away. But once he was out of the shielded area, he wouldn't be able to hold the security and whatever external security team they might have would know immediately.

Unless they were busy with something else.

Fang looked up at the ceiling, his claws still resting against the door, took a deep breath, and... hesitated. "I can do it," he muttered under his breath, willing himself to believe it. "It won't kill me. I can do it."

He didn't have a choice; he had to save that egg. He had to make sure it would survive.

Fang clenched his jaw, took another deep breath, and stretched out his magic, further than he had since... in decades. He could feel the shifts in his arms, his shoulders, his horns - and as agonizing pain seared up his back, worse than he'd remembered, he gathered his magic, flung it into the walls, upwards, downwards, flooding through the wired veins of the whole skyscraper with a single purpose: DESTROY.

The ceiling lights exploded in electricity and shattered glass, plunging the hallway into darkness.

Fang supported himself against the door, his magic mostly folded away again, struggling to catch his breath through the pain, ignoring the way his shirt was sticking to his back. I have to get the egg out of here.

The door swung open, the person from inside the lab fumbling through the darkness - in reflexive panic, Fang grabbed them, his claws digging into what felt like their shoulder, and flung them hard into the opposite wall. Their startled shrieking abruptly halted with a thud.

Just get the egg, Fang reminded himself. Get it and get out.

As he stepped into the room, it was easy to find. The egg glowed faintly in the darkness, casting the faintest red light onto its platform - what had been a high-security containment device and was now just a fancy table, as his surge of magic had made sure every single piece of electronics in the entire building had been thoroughly fried.

The thought that Nevermore had been upstairs and undoubtedly caught in the blast was hastily shoved aside, back with all the other thoughts he was too busy to think about right now. Instead, he pulled off his jacket, carefully wrapping the egg in it. He'd need both hands free, so after some frustrated swearing, he managed to get it tied onto himself, holding the egg securely enough he could run without it falling and covered enough no one would know what he was carrying.

It looks like one of those baby slings. It should have been an amusing image, Fang realized, but this was one situation where even he couldn't manage a sense of humor. Let's hope that's what anyone who spots me thinks it is.

Fang carefully made his way back to the elevator, feeling his way through the pitch-black halls. Fortunately, it had been a straightforward walk in; there weren't so many turns he couldn't find his way in the dark, even being at less than his best.

At least I don't have to hold the security systems any more.

The two guards were exactly where he'd left them, lying unconscious-or-worse in the short hallway leading to the elevator. The elevator, as well, was still where he'd left it - and not in any better condition than the guards. All of the controls and power sources had been completely fried, along with everything else in the tower.

"Shit." Fang frowned, placing a hand against the door frame near the panel. "Now what?"

There was no one to answer, this time. Just him. Him, the pain, and the gentle pulse from within the egg's shell. It's okay. He closed his eyes, the gesture barely making a difference in the darkness, and inhaled deeply. I've got this. It's just like any other job.

Any other job didn't have these kinds of stakes - but they did have these kinds of scenarios. Fang quickly tallied up the situation. His current status: deep in enemy territory, badly injured, solo, no backup. His current goal: escape. Simple enough. Escape without being traced, he amended. Slightly less simple.

The first requirement there was easy enough - no records. Already handled. Aside from digital records, he hadn't left behind any blood - any of his own blood, at least - no fingerprints, no other identifying crumbs they could try to put through their computers.

They would eventually know someone had come through, though. Fang absently placed a still-clawed hand on his rescuee, still wrapped in his jacket. They'd know someone broke in. They'd figure out this massive black-out was related. They'd---

His own thought echoed back at him; they'd know someone broke in. But he was trying to break out.

A plan quickly took shape in his mind and he grimaced - it was going to need a lot of magic. Again. (He'd survived this much; he could manage one more shot.)

Unfolding was easier, this time - he wasn't going to need as much of himself, so most of the damage was already done. Re-done. He gritted his teeth, anyway, trying not to think about it as he brought back out the rest of his claws, his horns, stopping before it went any further.

This should be enough.

A thought and a flicker of lightning opened both sets of elevator doors, just enough for him to step through, then closed them most of the way behind himself. Turning back to the closed doors, he flexed his claws, then dug them into the seam of the doors and pulled, supporting his torn and weakened muscles with magic and sheer will. The doors ground open, warping slightly at the force, and he paused, panting and feeling a manic grin on his face before he attacked the next door.

The doors done, the next step was to get on top of the elevator. He could find an access hatch, rip it open, and haul himself up - but that would mean hanging from the ceiling, and besides, the tears would be on the wrong side. He wanted to tear it open from the outside, which meant getting on top of the elevator first.

Stepping out of the elevator and back into the hall, Fang stretched out, reaching for the driving motor for the elevator system. Unlike on his way down, he couldn't just nicely ask the elevator system to move - not after he'd broken it so thoroughly. If he wanted the elevator to go down, he had to move it himself.

This would be easier if I could see, he mused - then remembered, and with a thought, the short hall was lit with a dim white-gold glow. "Much better," he murmured, then reached again for the motor, the power input, and slowly, slowly, poured a small stream of electricity through.

The elevator, visible through the deformed doors in his glow, slowly started moving down with a faint whirr. Fang let it move down until it was low enough he could climb onto the top, then dragged himself up, hyper-aware of every move and slip of the makeshift carrier keeping the egg from falling. The light faded out behind him as he wound the motor the other way, finally letting go as the elevator resumed its original "parked"position. That done, he felt around the roof of the elevator car, finally finding the access panel and, digging his claws into the flimsy metal, he ripped it off and tossed it aside.

Next... Next was the hard part.

Fang sat on the elevator roof, taking a moment to catch his breath, and looked up into the absolute darkness. Faint golden-white wisps traced a line up the shaft wall, lighting up what was going to be his path. Few foot- or hand-holds, lots of concrete he could dig into.

He considered the route, his plan, and nodded to himself before pulling off his boots. "Just a little more," he muttered, coaxing himself into it, then brought out the claws on his feet as well. Another agonizing stab through his back, blending back into the rest after only a moment. Just until I get out of here.

It felt like he'd been climbing forever.

Fang continued pulling himself up, digging his claws into the cement wall, one hand, one foot, the other hand, foot, repeat, the pulse of the egg against his back falling in and out of sync with the throb of his own pulse through the wound down his back. A whisper of magic feeling for an upcoming floor - still nothing - without a pause. If he paused for even a second, he wasn't sure he'd be able to make himself start moving again.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. The ghost of a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth at the thought and the light-hearted tone it came with. Completely inappropriate for both the situation and his mood. I don't think anyone would believe that one, this time.

Not that anyone was ever going to find out. Not if he did this right.

The sweep of magic suddenly caught something new through the still-active magical shielding - electrical wiring, the slagged and shorted out remnants of it, winding around the shaft horizontally. Fifteen feet above him.

The lowest floor.

He didn't care what floor it was, as long as it was attached to the rest of the building and he could get outside.

Fifteen feet of eternity later, he didn't give himself even a moment to hesitate before starting to claw his way through the wall. If there was anyone on the other side - if there was enough light they could see him - he would deal with that when, and if, it happened. The most important thing at that moment was just to get through and out.

Eventually, the cement gave way to wires and plaster, then empty air. Fang started to pull off another chunk of wall, paused as he remembered the plan, then started tearing at the opposite side of the hole, clawing chunks off and pushing them into the equally-dark room ahead of him.

As soon as the hole was large enough to fit him and his egg, he squeezed through, gritting his teeth against the resurge of pain as the bundle just barely pressed into his back, focusing on not biting his tongue as a totally inadequate distraction, feeling the shielding close back in behind him, and promptly collapsed face-first onto the floor.

He could hear traffic sounds - muffled, but close by.

He could also hear distant, less muffled voices.

Dammit. No time to rest.

Fang shoved himself up, slowly, ignoring the shaking of his strained muscles as he fumbled with his boot laces, pulling the boots back onto now-human feet - getting claw scratches all over them, he realized a minute too late. I'll need a new pair of boots. Or maybe just someone to polish these up....

An image floated into his mind unbidden - walking into a store, boots in hand, "I forgot to put my claws away before getting dressed", all I meant to do that like a cat who'd walked into a door. It drew a faint laugh out of him - a near-hysterical giggle, if he could afford to worry about things like getting hysterical - as he hauled himself back to his feet, swaying for a moment with a hand-claw leaning against the wall for support.

Finish the job. The wall. Fang turned to the hole in the wall, where he remembered it being, and felt along the wall until he confirmed it. Then, with a monumental effort, he dug his claws into it again, tearing at the wall until he had a much bigger hole.

Big enough to easily fit an average-sized human. More importantly, big enough for a werewolf in full werewolf form to just squeeze through.

"The big bad wolf leaving a trail of breadcrumbs," Fang muttered to himself, realizing a moment later that he had muttered to himself. Out loud.

He froze, listening, but the distant voices were still distant and unchanged. And now that he'd had a moment to listen, the traffic sounds seemed to be on the same level. The faint echoes of the sounds suggested it was a large room.

Large and ground-level meant garage or loading bay, which meant he was one step away from getting out of this hell-pit of a failed job.

Not failed. Not if I get this egg out alive.

Fang stepped away from the wall, slowly moving towards the city sounds - and suddenly was rewarded by a long line of light, dim, but sharp in contrast with the absolute blackness of the rest of the building. He darted for the garage door - started to, but stumbled and almost fell, biting back several swears. Slow and steady wins the race, he consoled himself, regaining his footing and moving towards the door at a careful walk.

Pausing in front of the door, he considered it, considered his plan, and looked down at his hands. Claws. Looked down at his claws.

His body felt like it was about to give out any moment. There was no way he could claw the door open - he would just have to raise it a little and leave it that way. A flicker of magic-lightning into the garage door motor opened it a couple of feet, enough for his fictional werewolf and associates to crawl beneath. More importantly, enough for him to crawl beneath, cradling the egg - still wraped in his jacket, but turned around to be slung in front rather than across his back - and squinting at the flashing lights coming around the corner.

Flashing lights was a bad sign. Swearing under his breath, Fang hurried through the shadows, pulling his claws all the way back, leaving nothing but an echo of magic and the long, pointed ears that passed for fey. It looked like he'd taken long enough getting out that the response to the blackout had arrived and while his bike was hidden in an alley only a block away, he still had to get there.

To Fang's surprise, the ground-level emergency responders were all around the front of the building, while the loading bay he'd come out from was on the opposite side. After the initial moment of confused relief, he remembered - this was a shopping mall. In the middle of the night, after closing hours. Officially, there was nothing important happening there at all - and even unofficially, it was still just a bunch of shoppers.

And the sub-basement lab - completely disconnected, with its own source of power - shouldn't have been affected by a building-wide power outage, so they had no reason to worry.

Yet.

Fang wasn't stupid enough to stand around patting himself on the back for a well-executed plan, though. He headed off quickly towards his bike, one arm cradled gently around the egg, staying near the walls for the support. No one seemed to be on the street - not this street, not right then. Anyone who was on foot would either be watching the show out front or staying as far away from the commotion as possible.

He was looking forward to being in that second group. Soon. But that raised the one thing he hadn't included in his plan: where was he going to go.

What he needed, more than a safe place for himself to go, was a safe place for the egg. Since he didn't have any ridiculously strong magically shielded secret labs to stash something as magically identifiable as his rescue, he needed to find shielding of his own. Anyone with any kind of sense for magic would notice the egg, otherwise - and once the corp realized it was gone, they'd be able to track it like a beacon.

Even at his best, Fang's strengths had never extended to shields and disguises. His team, as well - Vanessa's shade-magic was no use for it, and Trace's skills in the area were only just good enough to keep his own magically-enhanced technology from getting picked up. But his team were the only people he knew in this city, except---

"... Shit." Fang leaned against the wall of the alley, his bike only feet away beneath its invisibility blanket, and pressed his fingers against his forehead.

Cyan was the perfect choice. Based on just his work Fang had seen, he more than had the skill to hide the egg from anyone - not just from neighborhood drone sweeps but even from anyone in the same room. Based on Vanessa's networking and his own interactions, Cyan wouldn't ask any questions about what he'd done or turn him over to the corps. Based on the last time the two of them spoke, Cyan was pissed off as hell - probably for good reasons - and having to go ask for a favor was going to be a mess.

A mess, he could handle. It wasn't going to be much worse than what he'd already pushed himself through. But getting someone else involved - getting anyone else involved in this, meant coming up against the worst question of all.

Will he try to destroy it?

Fang stared at the empty space his motorcycle was occupying, the question turning over in his mind again and again, before resting hesitantly on a single solution.

He didn't have to tell Cyan what he was hiding. It could just be lancer business, some artefact he needed to keep from getting traced. There was no reason to think Cyan would recognize a dragon's egg - he didn't have to know. Nobody had to know.

He didn't have any other options.

Pulling the cover off his bike - gingerly, not with his usual flourish, every movement screaming to remind him of what happened to his back - and climbing on, he started up the engine.

It wasn't a long drive to the shop. He could make it.