The yard was a rectangle of poured concrete surrounded by walls that had been built to communicate something specific about permanence. Nyx walked out through the gate from the interior corridor and looked at them immediately, not with alarm, but with the measurement she brought to anything that needed crossing.
Guard towers at the corners, elevated platforms with sightlines running the full length of every wall below. Ground-level patrol walking a slow perimeter loop. She read their timing in two passes of the eye.
The compass was running warm. Interior, northeast of the yard. Proxy was somewhere in there taking the building apart with his eyes, which was its own variety of useful. The direction was quiet and that was all it needed to be. She put it down and kept walking.
Jinx was beside her, slightly too close, in the way of someone managing an open space by reducing the amount of it that applied to them.
"There are a lot of guards," Jinx said.
"There are," Nyx said.
