“They wouldn’t do that. Not yet. They wanted the sirens alive and brought to Virginia for a reason. Even if they loaded her onto a helicopter or plane, they couldn’t have gotten here more than a few hours ago.”

“You hope,” said Deb.

We ran until we reached the turnoff. An old road sign named it Prison Road. After about a mile, we learned why.

“They put the sirens in jail?” asked Deb.

A ten-foot chain link fence topped with razor wire surrounded a two-story brick fortress with narrow windows. Tall walls stretched out from the side to enclose what I guessed to be an open exercise yard. A sign alongside the road noted that the facility was closed, and trespassers would be prosecuted.

“Does that look closed to you?” I pointed toward the parking lot before remembering they couldn’t see me.

I counted nine cars in the lot, which was fenced off with an ID scanner connected to the gate. Cameras watched the road, the sidewalk, and the grounds around the building.

“Any enchantments on the fence?” asked Lena.

“Nothing here, but there’s plenty on the prison itself. The doors, the bricks, the windows, pretty much everything. The fence is just to stop outsiders from poking their noses in.”

The magic of Lena’s bokken stirred, sharpening in her hands. “Shall I make us an entrance? Or would that count as an attack and blow my invisibility?”

“I wouldn’t risk it. Someone might see the hole in the fence, or they could be running an electrical current to monitor for breaks. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” I set a book on the ground. When I removed my hands, it became visible. After a few minutes of turning pages and setting gravel in place to hold the book open, I was able to reach in and create a handful of sparkling dust. I sprinkled a pinch over each of us. “Think happy thoughts.”

Lena found me by touch and wrapped her free arm around my waist. “Happy thoughts, coming up.” She kissed me hard, and soon we were both floating over the top of the fence.

Deb followed a short time later. I refrained from asking what she considered a happy thought these days.

The fields around the building were unkempt and overgrown, but the prison itself looked well-maintained. Voices carried over the top of the wall, along with the buzz of machinery.

We followed the walkway from the parking lot to the main entrance. State and national flags flew to either side of glass doors. I waved to one of the cameras, then peered through the glass, careful not to touch anything. Invisible or not, the oils from my skin would still leave prints.