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“I think,” Jianyu said carefully, “it is far past time for you tell us where Esta is.”

BAIT

They waited a week for Esta to arrive before they made their move on the Bella Strega, and during that week, Harte grew less and less sure in his belief that she would find him. How could she not have appeared by now? His affinity had long since returned from the substance the Guard had doused them with. It only stood to reason that Esta’s should have as well.

Each day that passed made him worry that something more was keeping her. Perhaps something had happened to Ishtar’s Key, or perhaps she had landed in some danger that they hadn’t expected and was trapped by one of their enemies.

He worried too that he was the cause of her absence. They couldn’t eliminate Nibsy unless they were certain that Dakari would do what he’d promised. Harte had believed he found a way. He had hoped to return to 1902 and find evidence of that possibility, but the sign he was looking for had not materialized. Now he began to worry that what he had done—the minute change he’d inserted into Esta’s history—had some larger effect that he hadn’t intended.

Without the diary, he was flying blind, and without Esta, he was growing desperate.

He kept those worries to himself, just as he kept his knowledge of what would happen to his friends should they not take care of Jack before the Conclave. He told himself that the future could still be changed. He told himself that what had been written in Nibsy’s diary need never come to be. But he wondered if they didn’t deserve some right to their own fate.

They had waited long enough. Each day that passed was one day less they had until the Conclave was upon them—one day less to plan, to prepare, and to neutralize the threat that Jack posed to the march of history and the future of all magic. They needed the instructions for using Newton’s Sigils. Until they had those documents, they could not be sure that the strange silvery discs could do what Jianyu believed.

Harte still had trouble believing that Newton’s Sigils could be the answer to dealing with Jack. But the day had arrived for them to find out.

“She will come,” Jianyu said as though sensing the direction of Harte’s thoughts.

They were heading toward the Bowery and were both wrapped in Jianyu’s affinity, protection against any who might be searching for them.

Harte could have denied his worry, but he found that he no longer had the energy to pretend. “What if she went too far?” Harte asked, voicing the one fear that had haunted him through the days and nights without Esta. “If she was thrown off course by the Guard’s attack, anything could have happened. If she went too far—or not far enough—if she landed at a time when Ishtar’s Key already existed—if it crossed with itself—she’d be stuck. Trapped. Maybe for good.”

And if that happened, if it became impossible to give the cuff to her younger self… she’d be gone.

“I might not ever know,” he whispered, his greatest fear of all.

Jianyu stopped and clapped him on the shoulder. His grip felt sure and strong. “She will come, Darrigan.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked.

Jianyu released him with a small shrug. “I have no other choice.”

In the days since the attack on the wedding, the mood in the Bowery had shifted. The increased police presence was enough to have the various gangs drawing inward. But the factions in the Bowery were chafing under this new control. Each day Jianyu brought word from the On Leongs that Lee was growing impatient to act. It was the perfect situation to stir into a distraction so they could get to the papers Nibsy had stolen.

They left the park and headed south once more, the sky heavy and gray above them. As they walked, snow began to fall, coating the world and erasing the grime and filth of the city. In moments like this, Harte could almost believe that a different life was possible. He could almost fall in love with the city that had born him and raised him and made him who he was. Almost.

Without Esta, the city was nothing but a prison once again. But with her…

They went to the Little Naples Cafe first and then to find Sai Wing Mock and the Hip Sings. With Jianyu’s help to keep them unseen, it was simple enough for Harte to use his affinity and put their plan into action before they headed back toward the Bowery. Back to the Strega.

Under the cover of Jianyu’s affinity, they watched the door of the saloon from under the cover of a shop awning farther down the block. The sign over the entrance bore the likeness of a golden-eyed witch—Leena, the woman Dolph had loved. But now, the more Harte looked, he saw Esta in those features too.

His heart clenched.

“This will work,” Jianyu promised as they waited for some sign that their morning’s work had borne fruit. “Nibsy will be forced to deal with the problems we have created for him. It will give us time.”

It was the best distraction they could think of. Both the Five Pointers and the Hip Sings had formed tenuous alliances with the Devil’s Own because of what they believed Nibsy could do for them. But as of that morning, the leaders of those two organizations would begin having second thoughts about the trust they placed in Nibsy Lorcan. The commotion caused when they both showed up at the Bella Strega at the same time would, with luck, be enough of a distraction to allow Harte and Jianyu to steal back the documents Nibsy had.

But Harte knew how slippery Nibsy could be. He wished he felt half as sure as Jianyu.

“Maybe we should have told the others,” he said, watching the street for some sign that their plan was working.

It didn’t take long before John Torrio arrived with a large group of Five Pointers, including Razor Riley. Torrio and Riley went into the Strega, leaving their men to stand guard outside. When the group of Hip Sings arrived not long after, they found their way blocked by Torrio’s men. The mood on the streets changed quickly as the two factions began to circle each other, with Sai Wing Mock demanding entrance into the saloon.

Harte and Jianyu didn’t wait to see who won that particular argument. They hurried around to Elizabeth Street, where the back entrance of the Strega waited, unguarded. But just before they were inside, Harte paused.

“I’m sorry about this,” he said, and sent a pulse of magic into his friend. “But it’s better this way.”