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odor of misery wafted up from him, an
aroma he seemed perfectly content to wallow in.
    Doyle had turned from the subway crowd. "A friend of
yours, Eve?"
    "Just a concerned citizen," she told the mage.
    The man brought his legs up to his chest. "Stuff not
meant to be seen by the likes of us," he said, beginning to rock from side
to side. "Somethin' bad's comin', I know," he said, his pale, green
eyes glazing over as he rocked. "And it ain't ridin' the train, oh no. It's
comin' in real style. That's it. Real style."
    Doyle stared at the rambling man, then reached into the
pocket of his coat and drew out a small billfold. She wasn't exactly sure how
much money it was, but Doyle didn't even glance down to count it as he leaned
forward to present it to the homeless man. "Thank you so much for your assessment,"
he said. "We'll keep it in mind."
    The homeless man took the money from Doyle and looked at it
briefly, before stashing it amongst the layers of his clothing.
    "Coming, Eve?" Doyle asked as he stepped down off
the platform into space. There was a good seven feet to the tracks below, but
that didn't seem to hinder the mage's progress. It was if the air beneath him
had thickened and he drifted unharmed to the tunnel floor.
    "Don't spend that all in one place," she told the
man as she followed the mage off the platform. Eve leaped down into the
darkness and landed in a graceful crouch, careful to avoid the electrical bite
of the third rail. Electrocution wouldn't kill her, but she doubted it would be
a very pleasant experience.
    Able to see as well in the darkness as in the light, she
spotted Doyle waiting against the tunnel wall. He gestured for her to follow.
    "Quickly now," he urged.
    The subway was filthy and she made a conscious effort to
keep from making any contact with the walls. "Damn. This is not a place
for suede. I should have left my jacket back in the car." She had
purchased the coat only recently in Milan and did not want it ruined.
    "Your clothing should be the least of your worries, my
dear," Doyle said as he held his hand out before him, a sphere of light
glowing from a space just above his palm, lighting his way.
    "Are you trying to scare me?" she asked, watching
the rats scurrying about in the shadows, bothered by their presence. "Me?"
    He stopped before an ancient metal door, its surface caked
with ages of dust, dirt and corrosion. It was also padlocked. "You mean
after all you've seen thus far you're not scared already?" He placed one
of his hands against its rusted surface.
    A subway train squealed somewhere close by and she wondered
if it was coming their way. "I've faced the wrath of God," she said,
watching him at the door. "I've had more terrifying dates than
this."
    A tiny smile played at the edges of Doyle's mouth. "Ah,
yes. Sometimes I forget." Doyle took his hand away from the door. "We'll
need to get through here," he said, pointing to the rusted padlock. "Do
the honors?"
    Eve reached over and tore the lock free with a single tug,
rust smearing her palm and fingers.
    "I don't suppose you have anything that I could use to
wipe my hand?" she asked the mage as he went through the door. With a
sigh, she resigned herself to the fact that her wardrobe was going to be
ruined.
    Eve wiped her hands upon her denim-clad legs and joined
Doyle in the tiny entryway. There was a metal staircase leading down into
further darkness, which her companion had already begun to descend, his eerily
glowing hand lighting the way. That staircase ended at another door, which led
to a cramped hallway that took them to another even older-looking door that had
been sealed shut with planks of wood nailed to the frame.
    "Let me guess," Eve said as she grabbed hold of
the first piece of wood and ripped it from its moorings. "You want these
removed as well."
    Doyle stepped back, giving her room to work. "Astute as
well as beautiful," he observed. "Traits not commonly found together
these days, I'm sorry to say."
    Eve smiled. "When