“They know we’re here, now,” Amilie said.

  “I’m not sure that’s true,” Luc said over the radio. “The floor above isn’t showing any reaction to that fight.”

  “They might not have heard anything, but surely they would have sounded the—what are you doing?”

  Her question was directed at Mitsue, who was removing the shoes of one of the unconscious ninjas.

  “Is this really the right time for looting?” Amilie asked.

  Mitsue ignored her, letting the shoe drop to the floor. He held up the man’s foot so they could all see it. Then he shone a blue light on the heel.

  “Is that… an ultraviolet tattoo?” Amilie asked as the complicated symbol appeared.

  “Many of the traditional habits of ninjas are widely known now,” Mitsue said. “There was a need to update them with the times.”

  He let the foot fall to the floor.

  “I suspected as much when we fought them, but these guardians are from my village.”

  “Do you know them?” James asked.

  Mitsue grimaced. “Village is perhaps a misnomer,” he said. “There are a few locations, separate from the original village, where we were trained. I would recognise people from my cohort, from my training hall. These…”

  He pulled the man’s face mask off and shook his head.

  “Huh,” Amilie said. She stepped over to another one of the ninjas. She was starting to stir, so Amilie put her down with a strike from the butt of her spear. Then she pulled off the mask. “This one?”

  Mitsue shook his head again.

  “Not to interrupt the family reunion, but you’ve got a formation to disrupt,” Harue’s voice came on the line. “There’s a dragon here, getting impatient for that fight she was promised.”

  “Whose fault is that?” James muttered, but he started moving towards the formation room.

  “Are you a guy? Cause it’s always the guy’s fault.”

  “You’re the one who promised her a fight,” James retorted.

  “But I’m not the one who’s letting her down,” Harue replied smugly. “You should probably get used to women being disappointed in you. Although I do hear good things about Americans, so maybe not…”

  “What?” James asked, but he had found the room. Mitsue and Amilie came in behind him. The complicated design was inscribed in the floor before them, softly glowing.

  “We just have to break one of the lines?” Mitsue asked.

  “Or bridge a gap with blood. You have those spare ninja bodies, you should just open one up and spray the blood across the whole thing.”

  “We’re not doing that, Harue,” James said firmly.

  “But it would be cool! And effective.”

  “I’m sure we can break one of the lines easily enough,” James said. He summoned his sword and moved forward. Sure enough, a hard strike at the sigil caused his sword to bite into the floor, breaking the metal inlay. The sword flickered green for a brief moment, and then the formation went dark.

  “Yay! Now we can—wait, what’s that?” Harue said sharply.

  “The barrier went down briefly, but it has returned to full strength,” Kana reported.

  James looked down at the dead formation in front of him. “It turned off, though,” he said.

  “There must have been a contingency in place for when the formation was broken,” Harue explained. “Stuff like this is why you don’t want to mess with a sorcerer’s formations.”

  James ground his teeth. “You could have mentioned that earlier,” he grated. “The only reason we broke the spell was because you told us to!”

  “If I’d mentioned the dangers earlier, you probably wouldn’t have wanted to break it,” Harue said as if she were being reasonable. “And where would that leave us?”

  “Exactly where we are now, except they wouldn’t have been alerted to us!”

  “That’s a good point,” Harue admitted. “But we aren’t lost yet! The inactive formation on the tenth floor has lit up like it was in Kabukicho.”

  “I thought you said it didn’t have protection symbols,” James grumbled.

  “It has… some, I think? It’s a lot more complicated than the one you broke.”

  “So it’s stronger? Or does it do more things?”

  “More things, I think. Um—Oh! It’s a teleporter!”

  Luc’s voice cut in. “She said that because we just saw someone teleport in.”

  “What?” Amilie asked. “Who? How many?”

  “No one you know,” Luc said drily. “Just one. Unless I’m being fooled by the weird lighting, he’s got silver hair and golden eyes.”

  “A dragon-blood?” Amilie exclaimed.

  “Probably.”

  “What’s that?” James asked.

  “Trusted servants of the dragons,” Luc said. “We’re not sure what, exactly, they are. They might be descended from dragons, like the name says, or they might be made the way they are with magic. Either way, they’re bad news.”

  “Spirit blood doesn’t generally split,” Harue said thoughtfully. “There are exceptions, but it’s mostly all or nothing.”

  “Indeed, even part-dragons would not allow themselves to be servants,” Kana put in. “However, this discussion is not bringing the barrier down.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Amilie said easily. “Go upstairs, fight the big guy, and break that formation. Have I got it right?”

  “You should take one of those bodies with you to splash on the formation,” Harue said. “So much better than breaking it.”

  “Noted,” Amilie said. However, she didn’t so much as glance at the unconscious bodies as she led them back to the stairwell.

  “You’ve got a little time,” Luc said in their ears. “He’s arming himself from a weapons cupboard up there.

  “Got it,” Amile said. They moved quietly up the stairs, trying to avoid attention from the eighth floor.

  “Are they really just still working?” James asked softly when they were past. “It feels weird for there not to be an alarm.”

  “Sure looks that way,” Luc said. “But if they’re just ordinary workers, it’s not like there's anything they could do.”

  They got to the tenth floor, and James was pleased to see that he wasn’t out of breath. The exercise, or the additional strength from his armour, was helping. Amile went through the door, and James and Mitsue were right behind.

  The tenth floor was clearly executive territory. Thick carpet and panelled walls were the order of the day. The stairs opened up into a waiting area, a receptionist’s counter sitting unoccupied.

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  “Straight through, then left. He’s heard you.” Luc had lost his cynical drawl. His voice was clipped and professional.

  “Understood,” Amilie said, striding forward with her spear at the ready. The double doors behind the counter opened automatically, swinging silently back. Amilie didn’t let that startle her, continuing without so much as a hitch in her step.

  They didn’t have to go left; the dragon-blood stepped out of the doorway on his own. James felt a brief moment of disorientation as he realised the doors on this floor had been modified to account for the golden-eyed executive’s height. Luc hadn’t mentioned that their opponent was seven feet tall.

  “Ah, rats scurrying about,” the figure said. “And a traitor, I suppose?” he added, looking at Mitsue. “I’ll send your foot back to your clan for identification.”

  Mitsue didn’t respond, and even Amilie paused, held back by the man’s presence. When no one moved to attack, the dragon-blood smiled mockingly.

  “Were you waiting for an invitation? Come forward and die, then!”

  Amilie snarled and rushed forward. James and Mitsue were only a moment behind. The dragon-blood didn’t move, but he did something. Coruscating golden light emerged from his whole body and slammed into his attackers.

  It hit Amile first, splitting on her spear, leaving a narrow gap for her to charge through. James tried to do the same with his sword, to some effect. His sword somehow cut the energy, but didn’t leave as large a gap. He was still hit by the energy, which flared off his armour. It slowed him, but didn’t hurt.

  There was a crash from behind him, as Mitsue was pushed back by the energy and hit the wall behind them, but James didn’t have time to check on his friend. The dragon-blood was already moving, taking a half step back through the doorway and lashing out at Amilie’s spear.

  Amilie was thrusting too fast for James to react to, but the dragon-blood was faster. He slammed the spear to one side and then stepped forward with a straight punch to the girl’s midriff. She went flying back with a gasp, and then it was James’s turn.

  Annoyingly, the dragon-blood stayed where he was, just beyond the doorway. It limited the angles James had to attack, and prevented his companions from joining the fray.

  “I was worried for a moment, but you were just lucky enough to find some magic weapons, weren’t you?” the dragon-blooded sneered. “You have no skills or innate abilities, do you?”

  James didn’t answer. His strikes were all being swept aside by the executive’s palms. A few golden drops of blood stood out against the dragon-blood’s tan skin, but he seemed entirely unbothered by the scratches.

  James fell back, hoping to lure the man out so the others could attack. He just laughed in response.

  “Do you think me such as fool as you? What you seek lies in this room, and you must get past me to reach it.”

  “Your turn,” James told Amilie. She nodded grimly and went on the attack. She was more careful this time, keeping her distance and avoiding a counterstrike, but she was no more successful than James was.

  “Is there another way into the room?” James asked, speaking to both Luc and Mitsue. Luc was the one to answer.

  “Yes and no. There are ducts in the ceiling, but he’d hear you coming and skewer you before you had a chance to get out. You might give Amilie an opening when he left the doorway.”

  “What else have we got?” James asked. He didn’t want to sacrifice his life to give someone else a momentary advantage.

  “We need to make our own entrance,” Mitsue said.

  “Don’t be fooled by the wooden panels,” Luc cautioned. “The walls underneath may not be structural, but they are concrete.”

  “Camille was confident that these would break through concrete,” Mitsue said, pulling some strangely shaped packages out of his pack.

  “What are you talking about?” The voice of Gérard cut in. “Camille, did you give the civilians explosives?”

  “It’s not like I gave them to the monsters,” Camille said defensively. “He seemed like a sweet boy, and not the type to use them irresponsibly.”

  “Camile, do you know what this means—” Gérard groaned.

  “It means that we have a way to proceed,” Mitsue said firmly. “From your instructions, the Type C would be the proper device. Do you concur?”

  “Mmn, yes, use that one,” Camille agreed. “It should still be close enough to the concrete if you put it on the panel.”

  “Understood,” Mitsue said. “Get ready to clear the area,” he told James. Amilie, still fighting the dragon-blood, wasn’t close enough to hear directly, but from the look of alarm on her face, she was listening to her earpiece.

  “Get ready,” Mitsue muttered into James’s ear. “Run for the stairs as soon as I say go. I’ve set the timer for five seconds.”

  “Isn’t that too short?” James asked. There was a pause on the line, and for a moment, James thought Mitsue had listened to him. Then:

  “Go! Go! Go!” Mitsue yelled.

  James and Amilie ran for the stairs.

  The dragon-blood burst out of the room after them. James turned to block his attack, but he wasn’t going after them. He swerved, veering off to strike at the device that Mitsue had attached to the wall.

  He heard us planning the bomb, James realised. He’s—will that even work?

  The silver-haired man had drawn his sword and sliced right through the bomb, wires and plastique and all. For a moment, everyone froze, wondering the same thing.

  Had that worked?

  James tried counting the seconds in his head, but he couldn’t. He was too amped up to judge how fast time was flowing for him. It was Mitsue who recovered first. He lunged at the dragon-blood from the other direction.

  That was the signal for everyone, including the dragon-blood, to unfreeze and start moving again. Amilie and James raced into the fray, finally able to gang up on the dragon-blood. He was faster, though, and lunged back for the safety of the doorway. Or tried to.

  He had to deal with Mitsue first.

  Mitsue didn’t have the speed or the strength to match the dragon-blood. He did, however, have the skill. The dragon-blood tried to sweep him out of the way with his sword, but Mitsue parried with his short sword and threw a handful of daggers—so small they might have been needles—at the dragon-blood’s face with his other hand.

  They didn’t hurt him. They only slowed him down, and for less than a second. But it was long enough for Amilie to get into spear range, forcing the dragon-blood to twist out of the way.

  James was only a touch slower, bringing his sword into a yokomen uchi cut. Somehow, the dragon-blood managed to parry the near-simultaneous strike, but he was now surrounded and unable to get back to the room he was protecting.

  “Annoying insects,” he declared. Another burst of golden energy emanated from him, forcing the team back. Amilie and James sliced it away from them with their weapons, but it caught Mitsue and sent him flying.

  “Mitsue!” James called out in alarm, but the ninja must have been expecting it. He used the momentum to fling himself back, flipping over and landing right next to the formation room.

  The dragon-blood snarled when he realised his mistake and lunged after him, but Amilie and James forced him back with their weapons.

  “Keep him busy,” Mitsue said into James’s ear. “I’ll take care of the formation.”

  “About time,” Harue complained. “I’m up to level 23 on Mario, here.”

  James didn’t waste his breath replying. Even with Amilie’s help, it was all that he could do to hold the dragon-blood back. What was worse, their opponent had identified James as the weak spot and was concentrating his attacks on James.

  James had to withstand a flurry of blows that were harder and faster than anything he’d ever seen. The dragon-blood was only slightly hampered by the need to defend against Amilie. Her speartip snuck through his guard several times, but she only managed glancing blows. Golden blood started to appear on his face and arms, but he didn’t seem to care.

  James parried what he could, sparks flying off their blades when they clashed. Some strikes got through, only to be stopped by the armour. Mostly. The armour stayed intact, much to the dragon-blood’s frustration, but some of the force made it through.

  James only really understood how much his armour was protecting him when he diverted a stray blow to the side. He was backed up against the receptionist counter, and his enemy’s sword cleaved right through the marble countertop like it was butter.

  James swallowed and counted his lucky stars that the blows only hurt, not severed, his limbs.

  “Like an oyster in his shell,” the dragon-blood sneered. “I’ll peel you out of there soon enough and feast on your flesh.”

  “Got it,” Mitsue said, to James’s vast relief.

  “Finally!” Harue exclaimed. “Wait, Kana! Go through the door on the roof!”

  “That will take too long,” Kana declared. “My minions are in danger. They need me.”

  “What is she doing?” Gérard yelled. The sound of shattering glass was the only answer to his question. Not over the radio. On this floor.

  The room James was in was in the middle of the building. It didn’t have any windows; they must have reserved them for the executive suites. One of those executives would be looking at a repair bill tomorrow. From the look on the face of the guy they were fighting, it might well be him.

  Kana had flown across in her dragon form, and she was only briefly delayed by the lack of a direct route to where the fight was.

  At least she went through the door? James thought, as he reflexively ducked the splinters of the door she went through.

  “Surrender and be destroyed!” Kana declared. She hovered in the air, lightning cracking from her jaws.

  “You’re addressing me?” the dragon-blood exclaimed. “A traitorous dragon is involved in this madness?”

  Then he screamed as Kana threw lightning at him. When it faded away, he was still standing, if smoking a little.

  “Silence,” Kana demanded.

  “You may be a dragon,” the dragon-blood growled. “But you are weak, like all traitors. You will be buried under the weight of our armies, and your flesh will go to feed your betters.”

  The golden energy returned. This time, it stayed near his body, forming a kind of burning armour around him.

  “You think that will save you?” Kana scoffed. “My claws and tail will make short work of you. Your life as a slave ends today.”

  “You think I can’t dispose of a traitor?” the dragon-blood yelled, brandishing his sword. “You think I can’t—”

  Ignoring his training, James cut him off by sweeping the flat of his sword into the side of the dragon-blood’s head. It may not have been an official blow, but he used his full strength.

  For a moment, the dragon-blood just stood there, his head tilted to one side, and James wondered if he should have used the edge. Then the dragon-blood slumped to the floor.

  “He just… forgot about us when Kana entered the room,” James said wonderingly. Kana glared at him.

  “I suppose that you were fighting him first, which technically makes him your prey,” she said.

  “That’s right,” James said flatly. “I’d never think about taking what was yours.” He tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, but he probably didn’t need to have bothered. Kana was mostly immune to sarcasm.

  “Good,” was all she said.

  “Where’s Harue, anyway?”

  “Uh, guys?” Harue answered. “This is a little embarrassing, but I think I might have found a trap.”