I wince and breathe through the sudden surge of fear in my stomach. They’re fine now, obviously. “Right. Well, one of the vials of obscuraz had something else mixed into it, a few strands kinda bonded to it like magnaz would do, but bright violet instead of the usual dark purple. He only paid us half for that vial because he was paranoid about it being contaminated. Turns out it was contaminated, but not with the spellplague—with a totally new kind of maz.”
Remi stares me down with an intensity I only ever see turned on their maz experiments. Got the hook in now. Come on, Remi. You know you want to.
“It’s not real,” they say after a moment, slow and reluctant. “It can’t be. If there’d been a new maz discovery, it would have been announced. There’d be research.”
“It does seem suspicious,” Ania adds, but without much heart behind it.
I bite the inside of my lip to keep from smiling. Yes, step into my web. “Well, if it’s not real, then he just paid us eight thousand credits up front to go ghost hunting, which I’m also fine with. But I saw the stuff for myself. So did Ania. There was definitely something in that vial. Maybe they figured out how to make synthetic maz or something. If it’s a new strain, though, don’t you wanna be one of the first to work with it? We’ll get this guy his eight vials, then pull a little extra for you. Golden opportunity, right?”
Jaesin sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched in. My heart sinks.
“Why would you do this?” he asks. “Especially without talking to us. That last run almost went really bad at the end. You almost got caught. They’ve probably increased security there if they think someone got their hands on this secret brand-new maz. So why, Diz?”
“Because . . .”
I bite my lip. Danger and trouble aren’t normally a big issue for him. He’s going to make me say it.
Because you and Remi . . .
Ugh.
“Because money is good?” I snap instead. “Because we need it? Wouldn’t it be nice to start off our new adult lives with some cash in our pockets? Enough for that shiny flat in Jattapore you were looking at last night?”
“Hey, you stay out of my browser history,” he snaps back.
Ania and Jaesin do such good disappointed-parent faces. It’s truly unfair.
The next bit catches in my throat, my brain frantically trying to stop me from saying the rest. Too transparent, way too close to . . . everything. But I push the words out.
“Enough to cover what Remi’s scholarship from Kyrkarta University couldn’t.”
I purse my lips, then force myself to look at Remi. “It’s not too late to accept their offer. You could study Professor Silva’s work at the archives there, in the department he founded, like you wanted. With this money, it would be possible.”
Remi’s eyes go wide, and they press the pad of their thumb to their lips, the way they always do when tears are imminent.
The silence falls back over us as the Cliffs come into view. I do my best to fade into the background, make myself small and quiet so I won’t do or say anything to dissuade them from considering my proposal. Ania is trying to send me some kind of heartfelt sad look that I dodge resolutely, and Jaesin, for all he cares about Remi and wants them to have the world, still seems deeply skeptical.
But then Jaesin stretchs his arms high overhead, lacing his fingers together and flexing in a way that draws intense staring from Ania and eyerolls from Remi and me. My heart lightens a bit. Jaesin loves to get his hands dirty just as much as I do. He craves a reason to use those enormous muscly arms. And the money is amazing. It’ll help Remi. It’ll be dangerous. It’ll be fun. It’s exactly the kind of thing he normally loves.
It’s only a matter of time before he breaks.
Jaesin heaves a put-upon sigh and runs a hand through his hair, looking to Remi as he holds the front door of our building open for us all. “What do you think?”
“You know what I think about them keeping maz all tied up in those pipes,” they say, inspecting their fingernails with studied innocence as I summon the elevator to our floor. “If they’re hiding a brand-new strain of maz from the world, I must liberate it, no matter the risks.”
“Yes, and the irony of that position from someone who’s spellsick never fades. You just wanna play with the shiny,” Jaesin says, stomping onto the elevator like a frustrated teddy bear. “But what about this job specifically? It’s so close to our time to leave. Do you really want in on this?”
Remi laughs and leans on the wall opposite Jaesin, leveling him with a frank stare. “What I think is that you want to have one last amazing job where you get to hit things and take home a big paycheck, but you want me to be the one to say yes so you can act all noble and resigned to your fate.”
Hell yes, call him out. I bark a laugh, then slap my hand over my mouth. Wouldn’t do to ruin this beautiful moment. So close. Just say it, Jaesin.
Jaesin slumps in defeat just as the elevator dings our arrival to the top floor.
“Fine. Fine. You win, both of you. I’m in.” He looks to Ania, his voice lowering to something smoother, softer, as he holds the elevator door open. “What about you? You’ve been suspiciously silent through this whole thing.”
Ania opens her mouth, then closes it again, flicking an evaluating glance over Remi, assessing their current condition. I catch her eye and shake my head ever so slightly. Don’t say it. You’ll regret it.
She sighs.
“Fine. I’m in too. But I want my protest on the official record. This is a bad idea.”
Despite himself, Jaesin grins like a kid about to jump off a roof. Not that I’ve ever seen that exact expression on his face before, and certainly not when we were eleven and living in our second group home together, with the headmistress looking on in horror. I stick my tongue out at Ania.
“Your protest is noted and discarded, princess,” I say.
Remi nudges me out of the way and sticks their thumb on the door lock, then throws our front door dramatically open.
“Okay, Supreme Overlord Dizmon,” they say with a sweeping gesture. “Step into my office and tell us your grand plans. If there really is a new strain of maz out there, I demand to play with it.”
I grin and step over the threshold with my arms spread wide, credit signs and plans for the future crystallizing in my mind.
“Unicorn Sparkles McSunshine,” I call to the flat’s computer. “Play my Badass Illegal Funtimes playlist, please.”
The bass drum kicks in, and I meet Remi’s gaze, remembering their body against mine in the club, the beat and the tension and the promise of so much more.
Maybe the possibility was real after all.
It is on.
Six
I WOULD LOVE TO GO back in time and slap Past Diz for her terrible life choices. Two days for a job like this? I must’ve been high. It’s the only explanation. Or, at the very least, too dazzled by credit signs and decimal points in good places to take into account the fact that this is our grand farewell week, and we have plans every single night. After we talked over the job last night, we somehow thought it was a great idea to stay up and rewatch the entire first season of our favorite series, then celebrate with 3:00 a.m. ice cream. Remi slept through 90 percent of it and passed on the ice cream, but my decisions were not nearly so healthy.