Chapter 1.23 - In which Percy shoves Viv through a window

Percy

Month 11, Day 28, Saturday 4:40 a.m.

A faint glow in the air alerted Percy to the danger just in time. He ducked as an ephemeral grey bolt shot through the space where his head had been just moments before. The deadly magic gave off a faint whine in the split second before it disappeared down the street into the distance.

Percy stared after the stray spell for a moment, then crouched even further down and looked back toward the battle going on a couple of blocks away. He was gasping, almost hyperventilating, and had to force himself to breathe slowly despite how his lungs screamed for air in their panic. He leaned forward and pulled Viv’s arm around his neck. “We need to go. I need you to keep it together for just a couple more minutes, Viv. Please.”

Despite the fact that her eyes still couldn’t seem to focus on him, Viv nodded shallowly.

They struggled to their feet, and Percy could tell that Viv was doing her best. But every step was a battle against her dizziness and lack of coordination as she swayed from side to side, tripped over every cobblestone, and sagged over Percy’s shoulder.

A bug caught by the howling winds smacked into Percy’s open mouth, but he didn’t even have the spare concentration to be disgusted by it. He spat it out, letting the storm take it away. A flash of lightning illuminated Viv’s face next to his own, her mouth hanging open and a thin trail of spittle slipping down her chin. The thunder followed, too fast, too loud—too close.

“Percy, I can’t,” she slurred, even more of her weight pressing onto him as her feet began to drag.

Percy gasped for air, feeling as if each breath was being ripped away by the wind. He bent down and tried to maneuver her onto his back, but her limbs were like taffy and her grip weak.

With a half groan, half shout, Percy lifted her desperately. He couldn’t carry her far. Not enough to escape the danger, especially if the fighting moved or spread. But one of the warehouses had an open window facing the street. Once, there had been boards nailed over the opening, but someone had broken them away.

Percy could make it there. He and Viv could hide inside, and then escape through the back. Doing his best to keep one eye on the fighting in case another stray battle spell came their way, he hauled Viv to the window. There, he set her down just long enough to pry the jagged edges of wood and bent nails away from one side, then heaved her up once again, flopped her torso over the windowsill, and tried to shove her through.

She was too heavy. As another spell, this one red and sizzling with contained lightning, shot down the street toward them, he grabbed her thighs and lifted, forcing them up and over until she flipped into the building.

Just in time, he side-stepped the red spell. The burst of fog or powder it released was immediately pulled away by the wind, but Percy stared at the splattered, branching burn mark it left on the stone in front of him for a second. It was almost as if they were aiming for him.

He threw another glance toward the fighting, then crawled in through the window. He stepped on Viv a little bit as he scrambled to find the ground, but she didn’t even respond.

Inside the safety of the building, Percy crouched down beside her and shook her, but she didn’t stir. Storm clouds covered the moon, and without even the distant light of the street lamps, it was almost completely dark.

Percy took off his emergency backpack and opened the top flap, revealing a faint blueish glow from inside. Mom had seen some bottles of moonlight sizzle potion for sale in a local apothecary and bought a few for the family. They were cheaper than light crystals, and much cheaper than good candles.

All of the running around must have kept it activated, but Percy brought it out and gave it a good hard shake. As the bubbles inside burst to life, bouncing off the glass surface like a thousand billiard balls, the cold glow brightened.

It revealed a large red contusion on Viv’s forehead.

A bump, which she may have gotten when Percy pushed her through the window.

Percy shook her again, murmuring, “Viv.”

She didn’t reply.

The bump probablywasn’t the only reason for her unconsciousness. “She was already most of the way to passing out,” Percy reassured himself.

He held one finger in front of her nose and the other to her neck to check her pulse. He was no healer, but he knew that much about triage. Not that he would be able to do anything to help her if either seemed off. Thankfully, both her breathing and heartbeat were steady, and came at a normal speed.

What few unboarded and unbroken windows that remained in the building rattled under the force of the wind. Tentatively, Percy held the vial of moonlight sizzle potion a little higher, looking around.

Large, irregular shapes formed of wood and metal sat throughout what seemed to have been a factory floor at some time. Industrial artifacts—though what they did, Percy had no idea. Many were covered by sheets, but just as many were bare, collecting dust and rust. Percy doubted any of them still contained whatever magic had powered them.

In the back of the warehouse were the remnants of a small campfire and other signs that people occasionally stayed there—the homeless, probably. There were signs of an effort to clear out everything worth even a handful of copper crowns and also light enough to carry off, but the project was obviously unfinished.

A loft holding crates and boxes covered about a third of the warehouse’s expanse in a large “C” shape, but the staircase was completely broken away, and the loft was high enough that it would have been difficult to climb up or jump down safely.

“Hello?” Percy called tentatively.

No one responded.

Somewhat assured that they were alone, he turned back to Viv and set the vial of moonlight sizzle on one of the tables bolted to the floor, freeing both hands. For her safety, he needed to at least get her away from the open window and the side nearest the fighting.

Unfortunately, Percy discovered that, as drunk and useless as Viv may have seemed earlier, she actually had been contributing to her own movement quite a lot.

Now that she was a limp, floppy deadweight, she felt quite literally twice as heavy. Percy attempted to lift her in a series of increasingly desperate maneuvers—dragging her by her arms, her knees, flopping her over his back, and even threading his arms under hers and clasping his hands together so that his weak grip strength didn’t make him drop her again.

After moving her a few feet, he was gasping with the effort, and both of them had somehow become covered in dust. A flash of lightning was followed by the very distinct sound of his Vista’s shutter going off right over his shoulder.

He jumped, suppressing a girlish squeak of terror. Viv flopped back to the floor as he reached for the camera obscura, which he had swung around to hang down his back. The lens cap was still off. The artifact’s embedded spells were complex and multi-layered, but one of the functions allowed the camera obscura to react to a linked external flash or studio light, dropping the shutter before an almost instantaneous secondary flash came from the artifact itself. When working properly, it all happened fast enough to catch both sources of light in the negative disk’s exposure.

Percy didn’t own any external lights and had never used the function up until that moment, but he had read the specifications and user manual until every word was burned into his brain.

“The lightning must have confused the spells into thinking I set off a flash crystal?” he muttered, confused. He pressed the lens cap back on and wiggled the artifact’s trigger button, which had always been a little loose because of the damage it took in C Dog’s satchel. Perhaps activating on its own was actually a malfunction that stemmed from the damage the Vista had received during that ordeal.

Percy sighed. One wasted negative disk was about two silver straight from his pocket.

If he wanted to afford Aethelwulf’s birthday present, he needed to save every extra copper.

He turned back to start dragging Viv across the floor once more, but the human-sized door facing the street burst inward with a spray of splinters and a whoosh of dust.

Percy squealed and dropped Viv’s arms, instinctively shielding his face. When he relaxed his protective stance and looked up, a large man was standing in the doorway, illuminated from the back by a distant streetlamp.

Percy’s eyes caught first on the man’s suspicious glower, then his aggressive stance and clenched fists, and finally on the red bandanna tied around his arm. Another Morrow. “Planes-dammit, freaking seriously?” Percy muttered. Either this man had been involved in the fighting down the street, or he had been stationed separately, acting as a lookout.

Percy tried a friendly smile, showing his open, unarmed hands. “Are you hiding out from the fighting, too?” he asked, knowing in his gut that it was useless.

“What are you doing in here?” The man looked at Viv, then back to Percy. His eyes narrowed as he peered through the gloom, illuminated by the weak glow of moonlight sizzle on the table behind Percy. He lingered on the Vista hanging from Percy’s neck. “Is that one of those instant-painting artifacts? Are you…collecting evidence?”

Percy waved his hands in a frantic denial, but the man didn’t wait for him to speak.

“Give me the artifact,” he demanded, one hand outstretched.

Percy’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment as his heart sank. He opened them again, met the Morrow’s eye, and said firmly, “I can’t do that.”

Author Note:
No, Percy, you definitely can't be blamed for knocking Viv unconscious. >_> Surely it was something, anything, else?