CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Venetian known as Volto stood in the underground room beneath the Mann Building, looking at the frozen remains of the Gateway at his feet. He had picked up a piece of the Gateway and was turning it over in his hands, a displeased smile running across his lips. Beside him, Bauta leaned against the wall, his arms across over his chest, his blue eyes glinting from behind his mask.
“Well?” said Bauta. “What do you think? Can it be repaired?”
Volto glanced at Bauta before tossing the frozen chunk onto the floor, where it split into several pieces upon contact. “No. Rime was thorough in his destruction of the Gateway. Rebuilding would take months, assuming we could even get the right materials in a timely manner.”
“The master is not going to be happy about that,” said
