James touched her shoulder, drawing her back. “It won’t change anything,” he urged softly, hating himself for doing so. “You were right before. It’s all a trick. We have to save Izzy.”
Petra nodded, but didn’t take her eyes away from the woman at the table. James saw the resemblance between the two.
“It’ll hurt only for a moment,” Lucius said soothingly.
“Go on,” Zane said, nudging Petra gently. “One more curtain. There’s nothing we can do here and you don’t want to watch.”
Petra nodded again, but still she did not move. Finally, she shook herself. She glanced at Zane, Ralph, and James, even at the sad bundle of Lucy’s body in Ralph’s arms, and then sighed deeply. She turned, saw the billowing curtain in the corner of the kitchen, and walked toward it. Somehow, James knew that it was the last of the portals. They had passed through the Gauntlet. For better or worse, whatever was about to come, there would be no turning back.
When the final Nexus Curtain unfolded around them, the travelers were once again met with the noise of a crowd.
James blinked, his eyes dazzled with flashing lights and monstrous hulking structures. People pressed in on him from all sides, thronging and jostling. It took several seconds for James to realize where and when he was.
“New Amsterdam!” Zane called out, raising his voice over the noise. “Why are we here?”
“Is it the present day?” Ralph asked. “Our present day?”
Next to James, Petra swayed on her feet for a moment, as if disoriented. She clutched James’ shoulder, and he covered her hand with his.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded uncertainly, and then seemed to recover herself.
“We are back to our own day and time,” she said with grave confidence. “Morgan is here. We are both here together.” Suddenly, she turned and led the group through the throng, angling toward bright lights ahead.
Ralph looked up at the looming skyscrapers and the rain of parade confetti. “But why are we here, in New Amsterdam?”
Petra stopped at the perimeter of the crowd, where the view opened onto a section of the closed-off city street. “Because this is where she wants us to be.”
James jostled to get next to Petra and saw.
They stood on the edge of the Memorial Day parade route, which cut straight through the main thoroughfare of the great city. Flat wagons lined the avenue, covered in festive decorations and oversized tableaux, most decorated in red, white, and blue colours. The floats were stopped now, halted by a police helicopter which sat incongruously in the center of a wide intersection, its rotors revolving slowly. The parade crowd watched with avid interest as policemen in riot gear moved in an urgent circle, their weapons raised, surrounding two men. The men stood in the center of the street, flooded with spotlights, their arms held over their heads. James recognized both of them. One was Titus Hardcastle. The other was his father, Harry Potter.
“That’s them!” a woman’s voice called out, heard by the entire crowd. James glanced wildly toward the sound and saw Judith herself, pointing, her chin raised and her eyes bright. “They killed Senator Filmore! I saw it myself in that basement hideout right behind you! His body is there even now, next to their names, written in his own blood! Look! They’re terrorists and murderers! Arrest them!”
Nearby, Morgan stood at the edge of the crowd, still cradling Izzy against her shoulder, as if the girl had fallen asleep while waiting for the parade.
The police approached Titus and Harry cautiously, hunkered low, their weapons raised. Near the helicopter, two men in black suits spoke urgently into a handheld radio and James recognized them as the men from the Magical Integration Bureau, Price and Esposito. Harry and Titus did not attempt to flee their captors or use spells to escape. There were far too many Muggle observers. Television cameras surrounded the parade route, installed on tall gantries, even now broadcasting the event live to the entire country. James marveled hatefully at the perfection of Judith’s plan.
“She means to have your dad arrested, James!” Zane cried, pushing James out into the street. “Stop them!”
“I can’t!” James shouted back. “The whole Muggle world is watching on TV! The giant Disillusionment Spell that hides New Amsterdam from the Muggles won’t work on magic we perform right in front of them! It’d break the Law of Secrecy! Why do you think Dad and Titus are just going along with them?!”
“Look!” Ralph shouted suddenly, pointing into the air over the street.
James looked and felt as if the entire world had dropped out from beneath him. One hundred feet over the New York intersection, floating like a cloud of bats and hidden from the Muggle observers below, were dozens of broom-borne wizards in black robes. It was the W.U.L.F., waiting for their moment to strike. They could be stealthy, James knew. They simply had to wait for the helicopter to rise into the air, bearing their enemy, Harry Potter, and they could strike it down easily, perhaps freezing its rotors or cursing the pilot dead in his seat. To the observers below, inured by the city’s massive, constantly refreshed Disillusionment Charm, the crash would appear as a freak accident.
Judith knew that Harry Potter and his Aurors were her greatest enemy in her pursuit of chaos. She didn’t just mean to see him arrested. She meant to see him dead.
“We can’t let it happen!” Zane insisted, staring up at the swirling dark wizards.
“But we can’t use magic!” James insisted. “The Vow won’t let us! We couldn’t do it even if we wanted to!”
“Some of us can,” Petra said, her voice as flat and cold as iron. With that, she stepped out into the street and raised her right hand, her fingers splayed. A crackle of light exploded from it, but Petra did not aim it at the helicopter. Instead, she flung it out over the avenue toward the young woman who held her sleeping sister.
This time, it was Morgan who was unprepared for the attack. Petra’s bolt struck her in the shoulder and threw her backwards into a lamppost, which bent ominously at the force of the blast. Izzy flailed from Morgan’s arms, but did not fall. Instead, she floated in the air, levitated by Petra herself as she strode out into the street.
“Wake up, Iz,” Petra said, lowering her sister gently to the ground. “Come back to me, love.”
Izzy blinked as her feet touched the pavement, and the crowd backed away all around her, frightened by the blast and the sight of the magically floating girl.
“Petra! The helicopter!” Ralph called out, hoisting Lucy’s body in his arms. The crowd was becoming agitated, progressing toward raw panic.
“Drop your weapons!” an amplified voice roared out. James spun toward it and saw a policeman in riot gear pointing an electric bullhorn at his father, who held his wand in his upraised hand. Behind the policeman was the Magical Integration Bureau agent named Price. He was pointing at Harry Potter’s wand, instructing the officer to take it from him.
“Ms. Morganstern,” a man’s voice declared suddenly, coming from directly next to James. He glanced up and was shocked to see Merlinus Ambrosius. The big man stood at the edge of the crowd, his eyes locked onto Petra as Izzy rejoined her in the middle of the street.
“Headmaster,” Petra said, taking Izzy’s hand in her own. Strangely, she didn’t seem terribly surprised to see him there.
“I know what you are thinking, Ms. Morganstern,” Merlin said. “And I understand. I have been following your progress—all of you—very closely. I applaud your ingenuity and spirit, but this must end here.”
“You big sneak!” Zane suddenly exclaimed, glaring up at Merlin. “You kept the third Shard of the Amsera Certh, didn’t you? You’ve been using it to listen in on all of us!”
Merlin ignored him. To Petra, he called, “Come back, my dear. Join us. We cannot stop what is about to happen, but we do not have to watch it. We have all seen enough terrible things.”
“But we have to stop it!” James exclaimed, boggling up at Merlin. “They mean to kill my dad! You’re Merlin! Stop the engine
of the helicopter with your magic! Freeze it to the ground or something!”
“The woman who calls herself Judith has foreseen every possibility,” Merlin answered, gravely apologetic. “Their combined magic is like a shield around the helicopter, preventing even myself from interfering with it. It will take off and it will have your father inside it, along with Mr. Hardcastle. What happens after that, I’m afraid, is beyond our control. I am sorry, James.”
In the intersection, the whine of the helicopter began to cycle up. The rotors spun faster as Harry Potter and Titus Hardcastle were led to it, surrounded now by the police in their armored riot gear. Grit and confetti began to spiral up from the intersection under the force of the helicopter’s backwash.
Petra did not move to join Merlin at the edge of the crowd.
“Ralph!” James cried suddenly, turning and grasping the bigger boy’s shoulder. “Give me your wand!”
James expected Ralph to waste several seconds asking for an explanation, but to his credit, he simply hugged Lucy’s body to him with one arm and dipped into his back pocket with the other. Wordlessly, he handed his oversized wand to James. It wasn’t the first time that circumstances had required such an exchange.
James gripped Ralph’s wand and leapt into the street. He pointed the lime-green tip toward the police helicopter even as the doors shuttled closed on its side, enclosing Titus Hardcastle and his father.
“Protego!” he shouted, putting as much force into the command as possible. Rather than the bolt of bluish light he had expected, enveloping the helicopter with a spell of protection, Ralph’s wand merely emitted a muted flicker, hardly brighter than a Muggle camera flash. James stared at it furiously, and then leveled it again at the helicopter.
“Congelo!” It was a Freezing Charm, meant to lock the helicopter onto the ground or seize up its engines. Instead, there came only a puff of cold air, which blew back into James’ face. He tried again, crying out in frustration. “Salvio hexia! Stupefy! Confundo!”
He felt the magic of each spell snuff from the wand the moment it appeared. Nearby, parade watchers observed him with worried confusion, wondering at the odd boy with the green-tipped stick.
“Let me try, James,” Petra said firmly. She raised her hand again, fingers splayed.
“Petra!” Merlin warned sternly, but the bolt of light shot from her hand even as he spoke. It leapt toward the helicopter, but exploded after only a few feet, illuminating the street around Petra brilliantly but briefly. The crowd recoiled in alarm, but the scene around the helicopter remained unchanged.
“Morgan’s power is identical to yours!” Merlin roared. “She is preventing you from interfering! There is no way to thwart their plan! If there were, I would do it myself!”
“Don’t listen to him, my dear!” Judith called out suddenly, cupping her hands to her smiling mouth. “He is weak! Only you know how weak he is!”
James glanced helplessly toward Judith. Next to her, Morgan had regained her feet. She had been hurt by her encounter with the lamppost—blood trickled from beneath her hair, staining her face—but her eyes were clear and cold, studying the scene before her.
Petra narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at Merlin.
“Don’t let them hurt my dad!” James cried, unable to contain himself. “Please, Petra!”
“I don’t intend to,” she answered immediately, her eyes still locked upon Merlin.
“There is nothing that can be done, Ms. Morganstern,” the Headmaster announced, raising his voice. He stepped into the street now, moving to get between Petra and the police helicopter. “Awful as this may be, Morgan’s magic is far too great for us to defeat by subtle means, and the consequences would be disastrous if you intervened using overt methods. There are too many observers. You must recognize that.”
When Petra spoke again, her voice was calm yet unnaturally loud. “You’re wrong,” she said flatly.
And then, to James’ surprise and dismay, she turned around. Together, the two girls began to walk down the center of the New York street, away from the police helicopter as its rotors whooshed faster and faster, turning into a blur.
“Petra!” James called again, but his voice was drowned out by the increasing whine. Merlin’s voice, however, rang out as clear as thunder over the packed, watching street.
“Petra Morganstern,” he called. “Stop! Return to me.”
“I think the Lady is right,” Petra declared without looking back. “Your strength is in the vast expanses of nature. Here, in the deepest heart of the city, you are cut off from your powers. You are diminished almost to the point of helplessness.”
“It would be a mistake to assume that, Ms. Morganstern,” Merlin warned, and yet Petra walked on, increasing her stride as purpose seemed to pour into her. At her side, Izzy matched her sister’s pace, hand in hand.
“I am different from you, though,” Petra called out. “I am a sorceress. My power does not come from the wastes of nature. I sensed this truth the first time I set foot in New Amsterdam. My power comes from the web of the city, from the interconnected knot of humanity that lives and strives here. The thrum of their lives empowers me. I am a new kind of sorceress and this is my element. Here, you are no match for me. Here, I will do what no one but me can do. I will protect those who have protected me using whatever means are necessary.” Petra raised her hand and one of the halted parade floats jerked sideways, sliding out of her way. It rammed into a line of dumpsters with a rattling crash.
The crowd observed this with growing alarm. Throngs began to break out into the street, running in all directions. Oblivious of this, the police helicopter first tilted forward on its skids, and then began to float upward, its engines falling into a steady roar. Above it, the W.U.L.F. agents swirled into position, raising their wands.
“You are mistaken!” Merlin cried out, beginning to follow Petra down the broad thoroughfare. “Petra! Remember the error of Eve! You will do far more harm than good!”
“Enough killing,” Petra said with calm ferocity. “Enough death. No more. I cannot allow it, no matter the price.”
“Petra!” Merlinus cried, and raised his staff to strike her. A bolt of white light sprang from it, connecting with the slight girl, but it had no effect upon her. Neither Petra nor Izzy looked back.
Above the din of the crowd and the roar of the rising helicopter, James heard Judith laughing triumphantly.
“Go forth, my sister Fates!” she cried shrilly. “Do what you were made to do! Together, you are more powerful than life and death! Call forth the chaos you have earned!” She laughed again, and at her side, Morgan blinked. She looked askance at Judith and frowned.
Oblivious of this, Petra raised her hand again and a second parade float lofted into the air, spinning gently. It crashed into a gas station, knocking the canopy over and shattering the windows of the small convenience store beneath it. Another float flew over the crowd and smashed against the columns of a bank before crashing onto the steps below. Muggle New Yorkers ran in all directions, screaming in panic.
James was jostled from all sides as the crowd fled around him. He peered up, looking in the direction that Petra was walking. The avenue stretched away before him, wide as a river, leading toward the night-glitter of the ocean. Framed between the buildings, shining in a grid of spotlights, was the Statue of Liberty.
Suddenly, for no reason, James thought of his ride on the Lincoln Zephyr and his conversation with Chancellor Franklyn about the conjoined Muggle and magical cities that had even then unrolled past the train’s windows. The New Amsterdam Department of Magical Administration requested assistance from a foreign ally, Franklyn had said, in the guise of a very unique and gifted witch…
“Petra Morganstern!” Merlin roared, stopping in the street, his staff held aloft next to him and his left hand raised imploringly. “Stop! Remember that the heart is sometimes a liar! You do not know what you are about to do!”
And to James’ surprise, Petra did stop. Next to h
er, hand in hand, Izzy stopped as well. They looked up at the huge shining statue in the distance.
A uniquely talented foreign witch, James thought wonderingly, amazed in spite of the circumstances, whose only job is to maintain the world’s most perfect Disillusionment Charm.
When Petra spoke, her voice rang out as loud as a cyclone yet as clear as silver bells. She spoke in the language of the giant witch before her.
“Chère Madame,” she said, lifting her chin to the distant statue, “baissez votre torche.” *
The entire crowd heard it, and paused even in their panic. Every eye turned toward the great woman’s statue where it stood over the ocean, glowing greenly in its web of lights. When it moved, the metallic groan and creak carried through the clear air. Lady Liberty first turned her head, looking over her monstrous shoulder toward the city behind her. Her calm eyes spied Petra and Izzy where they stood in the center of the avenue. And then, so ponderously that the entire action seemed to occur in slow motion, the statue’s raised right arm began to lower, bringing down its lit, golden torch.
The crowd gasped. It was a long, terrible sound, punctuated by the creaking moan of the distant copper figure. The arm lowered, lowered, and Lady Liberty began to hunker down, her great flowing robes pooling beneath her. She dropped her calm gaze to the ocean waves around her and then, with irreversible, balletic grace, plunged her torch into the ocean, extinguishing it.
A silent, grey explosion of water came up around it. From this came a sort of invisible, penetrating shock wave. It spread over the entire city, leaving a stunning numbness in its wake.
* “Dear Lady, Lower your torch.”
All around, the crowd had fallen completely quiet. Every eye blinked, looking around the city as if seeing it for the first time. Next to James, a man in a tweed cap peered up at a nearby skyscraper.
“They’re…,” he breathed, his voice a high, worried tremolo. “They’re… flying!”
James understood. The entire Muggle city was seeing for the first time the magical city that overlay it, covering it like a blanket. Eyes bulged up at the flying highways of brooms and magical buses, the heretofore unseen entryways, facades, and bridges built directly into the sides of Muggle skyscrapers.
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