He hesitated, then turned to the portal. All he had to do was run for it.

But he’d hesitated. Rain, over in the corner, had his hands out, like he’d done with the window.

And Cretan, being not as dumb as he looked in his white bull costume, had to know that there was only one way to guarantee that he get fixed.

The maze blocked off the way to the portal. It sealed everything off. The moment was marked with a pronounced crack, as the whip Chastity had flung away detonated. Overloaded.

She dropped to her knees, staring at the remains.

Were Cradle anyone else, I think he would have made an amused sound, but he was quick enough on the draw to realize his circumstances.

All of us, underground and inside, surrounded by four walls, a floor, and a ceiling without a door. And Cradle without his tech.

His power drew lines, and waited for his targets to meet the lines. They didn’t serve him when everything was at a standstill.

“Fix me and I let you go,” Cretan said.

“Fix him and I break you,” I told him.

“I can heal from what you do,” he told me.

“Are you sure?”

There was only silence. Several of us were out of breath. Even Cradle, who didn’t move conventionally.

“Don’t you dare fix him,” I said. “We’re all going to have a long talk.”

“This fucking hurts!”

“You helped him do it to others. Call a few minutes to an hour of suffering justice.”

“The two of us, trapped in a room at night,” Rain said.

Cradle turned around, staring at him. “The last time, one way or another.”

“I really hope you’re right,” Rain growled.

The maze shifted. Cradle lunged, appearing at what was only a gap, barely enough to put a hand through.

“Fix me!” Cretan managed a roar, speaking when lung didn’t connect to windpipe or mouth.

Cradle touched something at his belt. “Just you.”

I flew after him.

The red line at Cretan’s middle flared, and the severed parts were drawn in, while they grew out at the other parts.

More like portals than anything else.

And the gap widened. Cradle slipped through. I flew after him.

We hit the portal, and he ceased being able to do his tricky movement. I ceased being able to fly. I hadn’t been aware that was a thing, and the landing, going from the top of an arched ceiling to the floor, with every injury I already had, was not a pretty one. Cradle’s landing was gentler. His getaway a bit faster. And he was faster than me on the stretch.

But we weren’t alone.

Citrine, her husband, two more Harbingers, and a small crowd of other capes. Snuff, one of Faultline’s.

Cradle, not yet past the middle ground of the portal, stopped in his tracks.