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“So you can,” Theo said, glancing at Jack instead of in the direction of the river.

“The boats have probably already landed, and even now the wagons are making their way through the city,” Jack told him with a smile, enjoying the moment when realization rippled through Barclay’s features.

Barclay turned then, frowning deeply. “Was there to be more than one?”

“Oh,” Jack said, feigning innocence. “Were you not told? The Inner Circle decided on a change in plans.”

“A change.” Barclay turned back to the view, suddenly looking rather unwell.

“The Order expected an attack, and there was concern that someone among our ranks wasn’t as devoted to our cause as he should be,” Jack said, never blinking. “Other arrangements were made. Three boats, each holding a single wagon. A diversion, if you will, for any who would try to stop our purpose.”

“To give the one carrying the cargo a chance,” Theo said. “Brilliant. Just…” He cleared his throat. “Brilliant.”

“It is, rather.” Jack took a moment to gloat. “The maggots who were planning to attack the shipment won’t know which to follow. They thought to delay us, but instead, we’ll keep them running… right into our trap.” He took a step away from Theo. “Do you know the most brilliant part of all, though?” He waited until Theo had turned fully toward him, because Jack wanted to see the emotions that played across his face when he found out. “There’s nothing in any of those wagons.”

“Nothing?” Barclay’s voice had a hollowness to it, like knocking on a tomb. It delighted Jack. “But we went to the trouble of warding them?”

“They’re still warded, as we’d planned, but there’s absolutely nothing inside.”

Barclay blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“The story you were given about the boats was nothing but a test—a trap, if you will. The delivery isn’t coming from the Hudson. It never was. The boat landed on the East River earlier today. The Order’s most valuable treasures are already here, stowed in the Mysterium. Safe and protected from all dangers.” Jack let his mouth curve. “Or that’s what the rest of the Order believes. They’re all downstairs, congratulating themselves on their superiority, unaware that the artifact they’ve attached all their hopes and dreams to is about to go missing.”

By now Jack had maneuvered so that he stood between Barclay and any escape. He withdrew the pistol from his coat and leveled it at Theo.

“Jack?” Theo’s hands went up without hesitation, but the confusion in his expression was priceless.

“This is where we say good-bye, I’m afraid, Barclay.”

“What is all this, Jack?”

“It’s the proper end for a thief,” Jack said easily.

“I’m no thief.” Theo took a step forward but stopped when Jack eased back the trigger. “I didn’t take any artifact.”

“You and I know that’s only barely true,” Jack said. “But the truth doesn’t matter—especially not if your friends attack those wagons, as I expect they will. By the time tonight is finished, your treachery will be an established fact.”

Theo let out a nervous, tittering laugh. It was the kind of involuntary noise people make when they realize they’re in real danger and understand there’s no way out. “I don’t know what’s going on here, Jack, but I assure you that this is all a misunderstanding. Whatever it is you think I’ve done—” He licked his lips. “Certainly, this is a mistake.”

“No mistake, Barclay. Right now your friends are out there in the streets, chasing their own tails.” Jack smiled. “By the time they realize that the wagons are empty, it will be too late. The sun will have set, and the Order will learn that they’re under attack. When their precious artifact goes missing and they find you where you are not supposed to be, they’ll assume that you are the cause.”

“There will be no evidence,” Barclay said.

Jack only laughed. “When has evidence ever mattered to embarrassed and fearful men? They will look for someone to blame. They’ll need someone to hate, to punish. And when they find your body, broken and smashed on the walk below, they will point to you.”

Barclay’s expression was a mask of confusion. The fear in his eyes was delicious. “You can’t make me jump, Jack.”

“No?” Jack smiled pleasantly. He gave a shrug. “Perhaps not. But you’ll fall one way or the other by the time the night’s over, Barclay. Enjoy the view.”

Jack was already back inside before Barclay could realize what was happening. He closed the door and locked it before Theo had even started to move, barring it with the combination of the heavy leaden locks and the runes the Book had given him for this very purpose. On the other side, Barclay pounded on the glass, his screaming made silent by the barrier between them. Jack watched with some amusement as Barclay tried jerking on the door, but when he grabbed the handle, he recoiled as pale-yellow smoke started pouring from the place he’d touched. A rather convenient little charm, Jack thought.

Desperate, Barclay slammed his fists against the pane of glass again and again, as though he would willingly slice his wrists to shreds if it meant escaping. But Jack knew that nothing Barclay tried would work. The glass and the door together were built to withhold any blow, and they were warded with the same magic that had once protected the Mysterium.

Jack turned toward the stairs in the center of the room, toward the next steps in the plan he’d devised to retrieve the Delphi’s Tear. He left Theo Barclay to take care of himself.

With the enchantment layered into the smoke, Barclay was doomed anyway. The longer he stayed on that balcony, the better the ledge would begin to look. The wide-open expanse of sky would call to him, and by the time the sun had set, he would be so delirious that a different kind of exit would begin to look reasonable. Barclay would jump, and he would die, and in the chaos stirred by the events to come, Jack would walk away with the ring.

IN FOR A PENNY