The rune neutralized, I was still careful as I used the crowbar to pry up the board and remove the bomb that had been taped to the underside. I put down the crowbar, picked up the flashlight, and focused the beam on the device. I was no expert in explosives, but Finn liked to make the occasional bomb in his spare time, and he’d taught me something about them. This one was pretty standard. A brick of what looked like C-4 with an attached cell phone that could be used either as a remote trigger or as a timer methodically ticking down until the bomb went boom.

I clicked off the flashlight, put it through a loop on my belt, and got to my feet. Since Clementine and her men weren’t ready to leave the museum just yet, I felt safe enough carrying the bomb in my bare hand. Besides, I planned on using it soon enough.

So, bomb in hand, I turned, slid into the shadow-filled gardens once more, and headed back toward the museum.

* * *

The main doors to the museum now stood wide open to make it easier for the giants to haul their ill-gotten goods outside, I supposed. But no one was loading the trucks at the moment, so I was able to slide back into my spot between the museum wall and the greenery that ringed the building. There were a couple of other things I wanted to check before I put the next part of my plan into action. I set the bomb down next to a patch of briars that had sprung up in the middle of the rhododendrons and wiggled my way through the bushes. A few branches tugged at my hair, while twigs and leaves added more faint scratches to my arms, but I broke free to the other side. After that, it was simply a matter of crouching low, running over to the moving truck the giants had been loading up earlier, dropping to my stomach, and scooting underneath the large vehicle.

The caustic scents of gas, exhaust, and motor oil assaulted my nose, but I held back a cough and slithered forward, the pavement digging into my hips and stomach. Dixon had been messing around next to the truck for a reason, and I wanted to know what it was. When I reached the rear bumper of the truck, I rolled over so that I was on my back, slid the flashlight out of my belt, turned it on, and focused the beam up at the underside of the truck.

Nothing. I saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Just the wheels, pipes, and axles that made up any large vehicle. I moved the light this way and that, but I didn’t see anything suspicious. In fact, the vehicle looked exceptionally well cared for, and all the parts practically gleamed, including the muffler and the box that was attached to it—