"That might be difficult," Niko commented, and crouched to gather his katana and sheath it. He looked back at Cal, then reached out and opened the door.

It swung wide when he pushed it, and the interior was dark. The breath of air through it was warm and humid and sweet like a Southern summer night, and Niko stared curiously at the dim shapes beyond without crossing over the threshhold. What lay beyond almos had a different feel to it entirely, and he blinked slowly.

"Oh. I know where this goes."