“Teddy,” Wren said softly, keeping his gaze turned up.
Teddy followed his line of sight and froze. “How? Did it just fly in?”
Wren nodded.
“So the roof isn’t cursed?”
Wren frowned, not knowing if that were possible. His eyes went to the dirty skylights that had been dotted around the roof to let some natural light in once upon a time.
“How’s your aim?” Wren asked, pointing.
“Better than yours.”
Wren’s mouth dropped open and he turned and punched Teddy in the arm.
“Ow. That’s counterproductive!”
Wren humphed. “If sports were more interesting then I’d be better than you at throwing.”
Teddy leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. “Still so competitive, Little Bird.”
He skirted around him and picked up a box of small metal components from one of the desks, then made his way up to the catwalk while Wren moved himself and the still unconscious Saint out of the way.
From there Teddy launched a chunk of metal up toward one of the dirty skylights. Instead of cracking or shattering, it bounced back with force, accelerating and partially embedding itself in the concrete floor.
Definitely cursed.
“Closer now,” Wren called.
Teddy did as instructed, aiming and hitting a little farther along toward where they’d seen the pigeon fly in.
It still ricocheted, but there was noticeably less force.
“It’s definitely weaker over there,” Wren said.
“Do you think it’s the machine?” Teddy asked.
Wren paused. “What?”
“The gap is over the machine. Do you think it’s pulling the power out of the curse?” Teddy asked.
“Can something do that?”
“I have no idea.”
But it made sense as a theory.
“Throw again,” Wren said. “Go around the other side.”
They spent a little longer throwing objects before Wren was satisfied enough for Teddy to return to his side. It seemed like they had an opening, and only one option to get a message out of here to Eerie.
Blu.
“We don’t have to,” Teddy said. “We can think of something else. Maybe we can find enough stuff to build up to there.”
Wren looked at his brave companion, who tilted his tiny head at him. His heart hurt, but he smiled. “He’s got this.”
“Got this. Got this,” Blu repeated.
