The alarm from the Sewri district refinery echoed across the harbor. Blue emergency lights painted the rain-slicked warehouses in cold, jagged flashes.
Vikram and Rohan darted down a narrow alley, the sound of police sirens growing louder behind them. Water splashed from their boots as they slipped through a gap in a rusted corrugated fence.
"Rhea's grid hack worked," Rohan panted, pulling his hood over his face. "The docks are dark. Malhotra's security forces are scrambling."
"Good. But they'll close the exit roads soon," Vikram said. His eyes scanned the darkness, his senses still tingling from the Prana discharge. "We need to get back to Dharavi."
An hour later, they slipped into the basement of an abandoned tannery in the heart of the slums. The room smelled of wet concrete and old leather. Rahul was waiting, his eyes wide, while Appa Gawde sat on a wooden crate, nursing a glass of hot tea.
Appa looked up, his face lined with scars and age. "You did well at Sewri. But Malhotra is going to tighten the net. Patil has ordered blockades on every main road."
"We can't stop now, Appa," Vikram said, leaning against a damp pillar. "We need more power. Javed is at Band V. I can barely hold Band III."
Appa took a slow sip of his tea. "Then it's time you went to the source. The ancient texts speak of a hidden node under the Elephanta Caves. The Vow's founders used it to draw raw Chaya before the modern grid was even built."
Vikram looked at Rohan. "Elephanta Island? That's right in the middle of the harbor. Malhotra must have patrols there."
"They do," Appa said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But you have Rohan and Rahul. And you have the blood of Amar in your veins. Go to the caves, Vikram. Master the Wraith band, or Javed will kill you the next time you meet."
Vikram nodded, feeling the determination harden in his chest. "We leave tonight."