I ducked and rolled with the punch. The good news was that it didn't tear my face off or anything, which meant that the person throwing the punch was probably another mortal. The bad news was that he was built more heavily than me and probably had a lot more muscle. He piled atop me, trying to grasp my throat.

I hunched my shoulders and ducked my head as much as I could, and kept him from squeezing my head off. He threw another punch at me, but it's tough to throw a good punch when you're rolling around on the floor in the dark. He missed, and I started fighting dirty. I reached up and raked my nails across his eyes. I got one of them and he yelled, flinching away.

I managed to wriggle out from under him, giving him a hard shove that added to the momentum of the flinch. He fell, rolled, and started to rise.

I kicked him in the head with my rented formal shoes. My shoe went flying off, which I was pretty sure never happened to James Bond. The goon faltered, wobbling, so I kicked him with the other foot. He was tough. He started coming back from that one too. I bent over and slammed my fist down sledgehammer style at the back of his neck, several times. I was shouting as I did it, and the edges of my vision burned with a film of red.

The rabbit punches dropped him, and he fell limp to the ground.

"Son of a bitch." I panted, feeling around until I found Shiro's cane. "I didn't get my ass kicked."

"Good day to get that lottery ticket," Susan said. She came down the last several feet of ladder, dressed again in the black leather pants, the dark coat. She checked to make sure the goon wasn't faking it. "Where's Shiro?"

I shook my head. "He isn't coming."

Susan took a breath and then nodded. "Can you climb?"

"Think so," I said, eyeing the ladder. I held out the cane. "Take this for me?"

Susan reached out to take the blade. There was a flicker of silver static and she hissed, jerking her fingers back. "What the hell is that?"

"Magic sword."

"Well, it sucks," Susan said. "Go ahead; I'll come up behind you."

I fumbled around with the cane, slipping it as best I could through the tux's cummerbund. I started up the ladder and once again Deirdre shrieked, this time her voice wholly demonic, echoing weirdly through the stone corridors.

"Wasn't that-" Susan asked, shaking her fingers.

"Yeah. Climb," I said. "Climb fast."

The action and adrenaline had done something to thaw me out, or at least it felt that way. My fingers tingled, but they were functional, and I gained speed as I climbed. "How'd you find me?"

"Shiro," Susan responded. "We went to Michael's house for help. He seemed to know where to go. Like instinct."