Page 191

There were those in the crowd who answered, “So below!”

He shouted the phrase again and again, and each time he did so, Harte felt the cold energy swirl. Each time, more of the crowd answered back, until the discontent and confusion joined into a unified whole. “So below,” the crowd responded. “So below.”

“You need not fear feral magic,” Jack thundered when he finally had most of the crowd on his side. “Not here in this place. Not when I stand before you.” Esta was still struggling to get free, but Jack jerked her toward him and then took her by the chin with his free hand. “Do you recognize this woman?”

The crowd rustled and rumbled, until a cry split the steady noise. “The Thief! He has the Devil’s Thief!”

“Impossible!” came shouts from delegates around the room.

“Not impossible,” Jack crooned into the microphone. “Not when feral magic runs in her veins. Look at her! She appears to be nothing more than a girl, but many of you remember too well the terror she once inspired in the dark days before the Brotherhoods were united—before I worked to unite them. Look at her!” he shouted again, and Harte could hear the mania in his voice. “Look at how her face remains ageless. Unnatural. It is a mark against the very laws of nature and the known universe.”

The crowd roared again. Jack had brought more of them under his thrall. With the cold energy radiating through the arena, its icy tendrils cutting through the sultry air, Harte wondered if Jack had actually put them under some spell. All around him, the medallions that had been distributed by the Brotherhoods were glowing a cold bright blue. Harte pulled the pair of medallions out of his own pocket and saw that they were also aglow, their eerie light caught like lightning in the palm of his hand.

On the stage, Jack had released Esta’s throat so he could raise his hand to quiet the crowd. “But this abomination is not the only danger here tonight,” he murmured. “There are others among us, others who refused the protection the Brotherhoods offered today. They pretend to be with us, pretend to have the care of our great nation in their hearts, but in truth they are enemies.” Jack paused, his mouth curving with delight as the crowd began turning and searching for the traitors in their midst.

Then suddenly cold energy crackled around Harte, and all sound drained from the room. It was like being caught in time with Esta, only no one was frozen. All around him, the people rioted, but Harte could hear only a single voice that carried to him over the silence.

“I know you’re here, Darrigan,” Jack said, his voice amplified without the help of any electronic augmentation. “You can end all of this if you’d only come forward.”

All around Harte, people pointed and faces contorted with suspicion as men and women searched for those without the Brotherhoods’ medallions. They called them out and began to pull them from their seats.

“Give yourself up,” Jack said as he scanned the room from the safety of the stage. “Do you know how simple it would be for me to kill her right now? I could twist her delicate neck as easily as a bird’s.” His hand moved back to Esta’s throat, but he didn’t yet squeeze. “Maybe that’s too easy, though. After all this time, I deserve more for my effort, don’t you think?”

Harte’s vision flickered then, and the sky began to fall through the opening in the ceiling. Stars tumbled into the arena, filling the entire space and transforming the world around Harte into a desert night. Suddenly Jack was a different man, one with his head shaved clean and his broad shoulders draped with white linen.

Seshat raged at the sight of Thoth, but Harte now sensed something more than fury—he felt her fear as well. She wanted to destroy Thoth, but she was afraid of him too. Harte realized then that it wasn’t any spell of Jack’s that was holding him in place. It was Seshat’s doing.

She was terrified, and hers was a fear thick and cold enough to make Harte shudder.

As quickly as the vision appeared, the desert drained away, leaving simply Jack on the stage. “It will be such a joy to watch the power be stripped from her,” he said. “I wonder what it will feel like when it happens. I wonder if I’ll sense her suffering or only the thrill of what she gives me.” Jack paused, searching the room again for Harte. “But it doesn’t have to be this way. You know that Esta is not the one I want, Darrigan. You, on the other hand… I would gladly let her go free for the pleasure of watching you suffer as I destroy the evil inside of you. Bring me Seshat, and I’ll let your precious little thief go. You can save her. But only if you show yourself.”

Harte knew it was a lie. But even if he’d wanted to hand himself over, his feet were glued in place and his head was filled with the riotous fury of the angry goddess.

“Suit yourself,” Jack murmured. “Seshat…” This time it was not Jack’s voice, but a voice far more ancient and terrible that echoed through Harte’s mind. “You think to escape my power?” Jack laughed, a cackling that sounded like the cracking of dry bones. “The boy cannot save you now. When my tower comes alive, you will have nowhere to hide. One way or another, before this night ends, your power will finally be mine.”

The energy in the room crackled again, and suddenly the noise of the crowd returned. But Jack was lifting his arm to silence them. “There is no need to fear those who hide among us,” he told the crowd. “Not any longer. Those who have attacked our city, those here in our noble ranks pretending goodwill when only evil lurks within their dark hearts, cannot escape our notice any longer. It begins here, with the final defeat of the Thief. Tonight, when we protect our cities and our people from the threat of feral magic once and for all.”

The crowd was cheering, screaming its frenzied assent. They were with Jack now in the way only a crowd can be with someone—pushed on by an inertia impossible to harness or control.

“Years ago, we set about to protect our way of life. The tower in California demonstrated what might be done with enough fortitude, but Roosevelt bowed to the weakness of his party. Our own party will not bow. We will have our justice for those innocents brought low by the terrible danger of feral magic. Innocents like our brothers who were slain last evening.” He ripped back a drape from what had appeared to be a table on the stage and revealed a lever-like mechanism. “And we will have our justice now.”

The electricity that ran through the crowd had nothing to do with magic. It was a miasma of hate and anticipation, righteousness and cowardice churning as one.

“The other candidates have not answered the question of how they will bring the illegal magic to heel once and for all, but I will answer that question for myself. Tonight. With your support, we will put an end to the danger feral magic presents to Chicago once and for all.” Jack paused as the crowd cheered wildly, and then he leaned close to the microphone. “Are you with me?” he shouted. “Shall we put into action the promise of the great men who came before us?”

He had most of the room on his side as he held his hand to his ear, urging their cheers to grow, but not all. There were those who looked unsure. Others were already moving toward the still-locked doors. Either they didn’t want to be part of this moment or they were afraid for their own lives.

It wasn’t a surprise. Harte knew too well that there would always be those who would choose to side with the Order and the Brotherhoods even if the old magic flowed within them. But the illusion of safety was only that—an illusion—and as people reached the doors, they found them locked and guarded. Impassable.

Harte wanted to check the watch, but he couldn’t move. He was frozen as solidly as if Esta had trapped him in time. Seshat held him still as she raged within him, pressing at the walls.

I can stop this, Harte begged her, fighting against her with all of the strength he had. Let me go, and I’ll kill Jack here and now. I will end Jack’s life and Thoth’s with him.

Seshat remained silently pacing beneath his skin.

You know what that tower is capable of, Harte pressed. You’ve seen my memories, and you’ve seen my fears. If Jack activates his machine, Thoth will win. He will take everything you are, everything you ever hoped to be, and you will be powerless against his control. Unless you let me go. It’s our only chance. It’s your only chance.

The voice inside of him wailed, but suddenly Harte found that he could move. With his legs under his control once more, he sprinted toward the stage, shoving aside anyone he had to in order to reach Esta before Jack threw the lever. He was nearly to the steps of the stage—