27th of Nema

The vaultier was a short, fussily dressed middle-aged woman who seemed only mildly surprised to see another woman coming into her office alone. She blinked at me from behind a pair of round yellow-glassed spectacles, then gave me a small smile. "What can I do for you?"

I drew the claim-ticket box out of my cloak pocket. "I would like to open my personal vault, please," I croaked, swallowing to ease the ache in my throat. My voice was low, almost as low as a man's, and raw, but at least I could make sounds, now.

She took the box and opened it with an ease born of practice. "Name?"

"Sarri Jannes," I whispered. "I'm sorry... I've had a bit of a cold lately." I smiled apologetically when she looked at me. "Sarri Jannes," I rasped again. "Box 2458."

The woman turned and went flipping through a rollafile set up on her desk. She found what she was looking for and double checked the information on it. "Finish this line for me," she said. "My favorite pie is..."

I swallowed again, instantly seeing my father's face as he lovingly demolished a slice of Mrs. Bett's homemade pie, relishing every last crumb and leaving a spotless plate. "Apricot raspberry."

The woman smiled, got up, and unlocked a cabinet behind her desk. She found the key to 2458, then came around her desk, beckoning for me to follow her. "Right this way."

I was in. And NaVarre had been right. There wasn't any way anyone else would have known that answer. Betts only ever made that pie for my father. We would have gotten this far, and then lost everything.

I followed the Vaultier as she unlocked the first metal door that Arramy had mentioned, then locked it behind us, calling a cheery, "Hello, Fane," when we passed a guard station recessed into the wall. One of the guards glanced up and nodded as we headed down a narrow, windowless hallway to another metal door at the far end, our footsteps echoing off white-glass tiled walls.

"This is Miss Jannes, here for box 2458," the Vaultier informed the guards stationed in the vault room, then she turned to me. "If you have any questions, just use the green sonulator." She gave me a bright grin as she closed the hallway door, locking me in the vault room from the other side.

One of the guards – a large, heavily muscled man with a tattoo of a fish on his left arm – manipulated a bunch of levers and pushed several buttons on a gigantic, welded-metal door. The thing sprang open with a hiss of hydraulics, and he pulled it wide, gesturing me inside with a flourish.

I offered them both a thin smile and stepped into the vault, trying not to jump as the door chunked closed behind me, six massive carbonic steel bolts sliding into place with a whir of gears. I breathed a thank you to Arramy for mentioning how loud it would be, then looked around.

The walls of the vault were actually a gigantic hexagon, not a square, with a catacomb of smaller hexagonal columns inside it. In each facet of every wall, there were personal lockboxes. Every wall looked exactly the same with the exception of the one with the door in it.

Once you're in, count two wall panels to the right.

I set off to the right. One. Two.

Turn to face the opposite side.

Opposite side. Got it.

Three columns, you want the one in the middle...

And there it was: box 2458.

I took a breath. My fingers trembled. I fit the key into the lock plate. Rotated it all the way. Listened for the little 'snick' of a catch popping apart. Then the lockbox came sliding out of the wall a few inches, revealing a handle in the top.

Slowly, I pulled it all the way out, my heart pounding so hard I was dizzy as I flicked up the clasp on the edge of the box and lifted the lid.

And there it was, sitting there, a horribly familiar green office binder full of papers. A small leather-bound seaman's journal sat on top of it, a bit of twine holding the two together and tied in a neat little bow in the center of the journal. I didn't take the time to look at any of it. Moving quickly, I pulled them both out and tucked them into the secret pocket sewn into the lining of my cloak hood.

Then I closed the lockbox, shut it back in its slot, found the door, and pushed the green sonulator button marked "Out," a little shiver of foreboding slithering down my spine in the seconds it took the guard to open the vault for me.

"Find everything alright, Miss?" Fish Tattoo asked, his face creasing into a grin as I stepped past him into the guard room.

I nodded, smiling back at him, trying desperately not to go running as he led the way to the exit and unlocked it for me.

"One coming out," he shouted down to the guard at the other end, and then I was walking back down the glass-tiled hallway, approaching the door to the Vaultier's office. Fane the Guard came out and around the half wall of his station, his keys rattling as he unlocked the door for me. For some reason it seemed to take forever, each sound echoing off the walls. My hair rose along my nape, and I had to force myself to keep my smile-and-nod firm as Fane said a polite, "Have a good day, Miss," and stepped out of the way.

The Vaultier was sitting at her desk.

I started forward.

She wasn't looking at me. She was watching something in the lobby.

I turned to see what she was seeing, and my stomach promptly hollowed itself out.

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