A warning sounded in the large room Sprite was working in. The trace had narrowed her location to a city block. She only hoped they weren’t a mobile until. But she couldn’t worry about this now. The problem would have to take care of itself.

Her faerie surged toward the armorcoptor, almost a look of determination on its inhuman face.

Then another warning. The armorcoptor had weapons lock on Turtle! It was now or never. If Sprite failed, T would die.

She pushed the faerie forward, not wanting to expose blades until the last second for fear of wind drag.