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Paige drizzled down the steps to the concrete floor below. “Okay, it’s all you, Dewey. I can’t do anything like this but follow you.”

“I see the Locartifact! I’ll get the reference number. Wait here.”

Dewey darted away, a stream of him remaining behind before it snapped back into place as he continued to move.

He returned moments later. “Got it. Come on!”

Paige glided after him as he wound through the aisles. He stopped three-quarters of the way down one corridor, eyeing the shelves.

After a moment, he buzzed toward one and shuffled a few boxes around on the shelf, then he pulled a small one out. He tore it open and tugged out a silver talisman shaped like a crescent moon. A purplish stone sat at the moon’s tip.

“Got it,” he exclaimed. “Let’s get out of here.”

Paige glided along the cold concrete floor behind him. “Wait a minute. How are we going to get that out of here? It’s not seepy.”

“No, I was going to just open the door and go through. At this point, exiting shouldn’t trigger any alarms except log an open door.” Dewey shrugged his shoulders, the flesh jiggling as he did so.

“Oh. Good point. Okay.”

They reached the stairs, and Dewey floated up.

“Hey, wait!”

He spun to face Paige on the floor as she tried to climb the stairs but slipped back down into a puddle.

“Uh-oh,” Dewey said, returning to hover over her.

“I can’t get up the steps. I keep slipping.”

“Try concentrating harder.”

Paige tried again, scrunching her sloppy features in concentration and grunting as she tried to lift her foot onto the first stair.

She slid back to the floor, gasping for breath. “It’s no use. We’ll have to wait here until this stuff wears off.”

Dewey drifted over to the first step and sank onto it. “Okay. Should be about twenty minutes or so. Oh, or maybe longer since I accidentally overdosed you.”

Paige huffed out a sigh as she tried to shake her head again. It culminated in only a wobble. “You’ve really got to work on not doing this stuff to me, Dewey.”

“Noted. Next time, I’ll–“

Footsteps sounded on the concrete floor.

Paige’s eyes shot wide, and she stared up at him. “Someone’s coming!”

Dewey launched off his makeshift seat, scanning for the source. “Yeah, come on. Let’s hide!”

Paige slid across the floor, following behind Dewey. The pair ducked behind a shelf as a tall, lanky Russian shuffled toward the BookTron and plopped into a chair.

“Great,” Dewey said. “Someone’s still here.”

“And it looks like they’re not leaving anytime soon.”

“We can’t wait until you change back to get out of here. We may get caught.”

“There’s not much else we can do,” Paige hissed.

Dewey glanced around to the shelves as the man rose from his seat and strode across the space to the bookshelf. Then the man tugged a book from it and paged through.