She took a step to run but forced herself to stop. Breathe, she told herself. Breathe deep. Stay calm. Nobody in the world is more paranoid than Afa—he knows how to protect his home. Give him time. There’s still another floor between us.

The final camera showed them at the stairs, testing the door and then slowly coming up. The first floor was devoid of traps because Afa didn’t want the bombs to trigger accidentally by a stray animal, but Kira hoped the Partials would misread it as a lack of security entirely. Would they be less cautious on the second floor? She held her breath, and the Partials’ feet disappeared into the darkness at the top of the stairs. There were no cameras on the second floor, just sensors and automated booby traps.

A red light flashed on the wall panel, and Kira heard a violent clatter shake the building. “Antipersonnel mine,” said Afa. “It’s called a Bouncing Betty—when someone walks by, the mine jumps up about four feet in the air, like a ball from a Little League pitching machine, and then explodes out, like this, in a ring.” He demonstrated with his hands, showing an expanding halo of destruction in a single plane. “Nails and shrapnel and buckshot, right at gut level. They’re wearing armor, but it can still do a lot of damage without bringing down the building frame.” Kira nodded, her stomach queasy, watching the next light in the row. If the Bouncing Betty had stopped them, no more lights would come on. The threat would be over, and all they had to do was clean it up. Kira prayed—

The second light came on.

“They’re moving through the east hallway,” said Afa, his hands curled in front of him like an infant’s, weak and fetal. His face was streaked with sweat.

“How do we get out?” asked Kira. There was a fire escape, she knew, but it was laden with traps as well, and she hoped there might be a faster way down. Afa swallowed, staring at the lights, and Kira asked again, “How do we get out?”

“They’re in the east hallway,” he said, “coming up on the shotguns. They’re motion-sensored, not wired like the mines—they won’t know what’s coming until it’s too late.” The third red light came on, and Kira heard a distant crack. She waited, gritting her teeth in desperation, and the world paused.

The fourth light blinked to life.

“No,” Kira muttered, shaking her head. Afa was looking up and down the hall, his hands opening and closing on some imaginary tool. He had no guns, and barely tolerated Kira’s; he did everything by trap, distant and impersonal. If they made it up here, he was helpless.