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Jack had no intention of coming to heel. This new information helped to bring his plans more clearly into focus. Let them believe that he was penitent and docile. They’d learn otherwise soon enough. In fact, the Inner Circle would have ringside seats to witness the birth of Jack’s power. And J. P. Morgan would be the first one to fall.

ANOTHER STONE

The Docks

Harte and Logan passed three buildings before Logan finally stopped, and Harte recognized where he was. It looked like the others, but there was a marking on the door and a padlock too expensive and shiny for the filth of the docks.

The building was secured, but Harte made quick work of the lock, and in a matter of seconds they were inside. Lamps weren’t necessary because the far side of the warehouse was already aglow. There, in the light of the ritual circle, Jianyu was suspended in midair, his arms and legs stretched out as though held by invisible cords. His tunic had been torn open, exposing the bloodied skin of his bare chest.

Harte rushed across the room, only barely registering the lurking metal structure in the center. He knew what it meant—Jack had rebuilt the machine—but it was pointless to waste time destroying it again. He’d just build another and another until they stopped him for good.

“Jianyu?” Harte stayed outside the ritual circle, not sure what would happen if he crossed over it.

Jianyu opened his eyes slowly, lifting his head with clear difficulty to try to find the source of his name. When he saw Harte standing there on the other side of the glowing circle, his brows drew together. “Darrigan? You returned.”

Harte didn’t love the note of disbelief in Jianyu’s voice. “I told you I would.”

“You seem to have taken your time about it,” Jianyu said, giving him a droll look that turned into a grimace of pain.

“Hold tight,” Harte said, taking stock of the situation. “We’re going to get you out of there.”

“We?” Jianyu grimaced again.

Looking back over his shoulder, Harte saw that Jianyu was right. Logan was gone.

He should have gone further and used his affinity. At least then he’d have some help. And he could have been sure that Logan wouldn’t become yet another weapon in Nibsy’s arsenal.

Cursing softly at his soft-hearted stupidity, he thought about going after Logan, but he dismissed the idea almost immediately. It was more important to get Jianyu out of the mess he was in.

“I don’t think I should cross that line,” Harte said, examining the ritual circle. He’d seen circles like it trap Mageus enough times before. The last thing he wanted was for Jack to return to the warehouse and find him stuck inside it as well, like some kind of early Christmas present.

He searched the room for some answer to getting Jianyu out of that circle and considered a couple of different ideas before his gaze snagged on a familiar flash of silver resting on a nearby table. He pushed a pile of Jack’s notes and diagrams aside and found Viola’s knife sitting there.

“How did you get here?” he wondered, taking up the blade. The last time he’d seen it, Esta had secured it in the satchel before they’d talked to Dakari. Of course, that was a later version of this knife. Not the one in his hand.

“Viola,” Jianyu groaned, gasping in pain. “Did she—”

“She’s with Cela,” Harte told him. No sense in making him worry until they knew anything for sure. There would be time enough for him to tell Jianyu everything. But first…

Harte crept closer to the circle, feeling the brush of cold energy as he approached. He didn’t really know what he was doing or whether it would work, but if the blade could cut through pretty much anything, maybe it could cut through ritual magic as well. Like answered to like, after all.

Edging the tip closer, he held his breath, and with a quick, sharp push, he sliced through the dirt floor of the warehouse, severing the circle. The line went dark where the blade had cut it, and Harte released a relieved breath at the sight. Once more he edged the tip closer and pushed, and as the cold energy licked dangerously against his skin, a portion of the circle went dark. He did it twice more, widening the opening until there was a space large enough for him to step through.

He considered the situation—the ritual circle, the missing piece, and his friend suspended on invisible bindings, hanging in the air. And the strange dark crystal sitting beneath him. Suddenly he understood.

Jack’s making another stone. Which would give him all the power he needed to make the machine functional. There wasn’t time to wait. He had to get Jianyu out of there, and he had to get him out now.

He stepped through the opening in the circle and hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. Then, on instinct, he drove the tip of the knife through the black crystal, and as the blade sank through the stone, it cracked in two, and a burst of icy magic passed over him like an explosion. His magic flashed hot in response, and Jianyu fell to the ground.

Harte helped him up, looping Jianyu’s arm over his shoulder and pulling him out of the now-dead circle.

“Jack has the Book,” Jianyu told him.

“I know,” Harte said.

“What happened?” Jianyu asked. “Where is Esta?”

“She’s coming,” he said, because it was the only thing that could be true. “Right now we have to get out of here before Jack comes back.”