Page 83
Story: The Serpent's Curse
“I can help,” Theo said. “I know people. With the right incentives, it wouldn’t be that difficult for me to find a contact in the Order—maybe even earn their trust.”
“No,” Viola said. “Assolutamente no. You’re not getting involved with this.”
“He’s already involved,” Cela pointed out. Her heart was still unsteady in her chest, and her skin felt too hot, because she understood that they were all tied up in this inextricably.
Whether they wanted to be or not.
THE EVENING SHOW
1904—Denver
The sound of the sirens clanging in the distance spurred Esta on as she and Maggie rushed toward the Curtis Brothers’ Show. Jack Grew was in Denver. That was bad enough, but maybe even worse was the fact that Nibsy had been aware all along that she and Harte were in St. Louis. He’d been pulling strings that Esta hadn’t even known existed. He was still pulling those strings, and if they didn’t get to Cordelia first, Nibsy would send his network of Antistasi after the artifacts, and there was no way for Esta to warn Harte.
As awful as those developments were, the knowledge that Jack was in Denver urged Esta onward. The Book would certainly be with him, because there was no way Jack—or the thing that lived inside of him—would ever let the Ars Arcana out of sight. If Esta had any hope of finding a way of controlling Seshat’s power without giving up her own life, it would be in the Book of Mysteries. If she could get it back from Jack, maybe she could begin to imagine a future for herself after all.
Esta pushed herself and Maggie along with her, nearly jogging the entire way to the show’s grounds, but the thin mountain air made it hard to breathe. By the time they reached the edge of town, where the city fell away to the fields and mountains beyond, Esta’s head was spinning.
“There are so many people,” Maggie said, looking more than a little overwhelmed by the view of the crowded grounds. The evening show was clearly more popular than the afternoon.
“North was going after Pickett, so let’s start with the performers’ encampment,” Esta told her.
Once they were on the grounds, it was easy enough for Esta to pretend confidence and blend in with the crowd that had come to watch the show, but Maggie couldn’t help but look guilty. No… Maggie looked scared, which amounted to the same thing. While everyone else around them was smiling and appeared excited, Maggie’s unease stood out like a beacon.
Esta was still wearing men’s clothing, so she looped Maggie’s arm through hers to escort her and offer some more support. “Relax,” she murmured, pretending to be interested in the crowds and excitement. “We’re going to find him. But you need to breathe.”
They continued through the crowd, but as they went, Esta noticed a number of men trying to blend in among the families and couples. They were way too serious-looking for being out for a pleasant evening at the show, and if the men weren’t actual marshals, they certainly moved like them.
“We need to keep moving,” Esta said, pulling Maggie along steadily through the crowd.
They’d gone only a little farther, though, when Maggie stopped short. “Look at the medallions those men are wearing on their coats,” she murmured. “To the left of the tent there.”
Esta glanced at the trio of cowboys that Maggie had nodded toward. They all wore broad hats and the work clothes that were common for ranch hands around Denver. They also wore matching silver medallions on their jackets.
“Those men are wearing the Jefferson Guard’s badges,” Maggie said. “The ones they used to detect illegal magic at the fair.”
“They aren’t dressed like the Guard, though,” Esta told her.
“Maybe they don’t want to be recognized,” Maggie said.
“Or maybe they’re not Guard at all.” Esta studied the men. “Didn’t Cordelia say that more men from the Syndicate arrived today? It’s possible that the Brotherhoods are working together now, maybe even sharing resources.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Maggie said. “The whole point of the Society wanting the necklace—the whole point of their stupid ball—was to make a show of their supremacy and put the other Brotherhoods in their place.”
“I told you before, the attack on the Society likely changed things,” Esta told her, considering the men. “If the two groups are working together, it means that what we did in St. Louis didn’t weaken the Brotherhoods.”
“You’re saying that we made things worse by attacking the ball,” Maggie whispered, horrified. “Our actions brought the Brotherhoods together.”
“It looks like it. But we can deal with all that later,” Esta said, trying to draw Maggie’s attention back to the situation in front of them. “Right now we need to find North before anyone else does.”
The walk to Pickett’s tent seemed endless, but Esta knew they couldn’t rush, not unless they wanted to draw attention. Once they were past the public areas, they picked up their pace a little, until they finally made it to the back of the encampment, where Pickett’s tent was located.
When they were close, Esta heard voices coming from within and pulled Maggie back behind a nearby tent.
“What is it?” Maggie asked.
“Pickett has a visitor.”
“Jericho?” Maggie asked.
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