And nearby, delightedly, the Lady of the Lake cackled.
Television cameras swiveled atop their gantries, zooming in on the sudden magical city which had appeared inexplicably out of nowhere. The police helicopter dipped dramatically as the pilot became aware of the sudden wizarding air traffic that surrounded his craft. The whine of the rotors rose to a distressed scream as the machine wobbled back down toward the intersection, struggling to avoid the nearby traffic lights and power lines. The landing gear touched the pavement and scraped along it, sending up a screech and a curtain of sparks. A moment later, the machine ground to a halt and the rotors began to power down.
Doors shuttled open on the helicopter’s side and bursts of magical red light shone from within. Titus Hardcastle jumped out, brandishing his spare wand and firing it immediately into the W.U.L.F. assassins above. They shot back with red and green curses, but were suddenly distracted by a spray of gunfire. Fortunately for Titus, the Muggle police below had recovered enough from their shock to remember their weapons. The officers scrambled behind a line of nearby vehicles, shooting randomly into the air at the swooping hooded figures. Harry Potter followed Titus out of the helicopter and strode purposefully toward Price, the Magical Integration Bureau agent, who shrank away from him. Harry reached for him, but only to pluck his own wand from the man’s inner coat pocket.
Pandemonium erupted throughout the street, echoing the clamor that arose throughout the entire city.
In Times Square, traffic snarled to a messy halt around dozens of accidents. Cabbies leapt from their stalled vehicles and turned their faces upward, toward the dozens of enormous magical signs that had suddenly appeared, hovering over them. Dominating them all, completely obscuring the Muggle Coca-Cola neon, was a monstrous grinning woman with clockwork arms, mechanically raising and lowering a car-sized tin of Wymnot’s Wand Polish and Enchant-Enhancer. Every ten seconds, her teeth sparkled magically, popping like a gigantic flash bulb.
In Central Park, horses spooked and bolted before their carriages as an amateur Clutchcudgel match suddenly sprang into view over the lake, producing screams from the nearby joggers and feeders of ducks.
Along the newly erected elevated expansion of the New York City Subway system, a conductor encountered the shocking sight of a magical train as it barreled straight toward him, popping into existence along the same length of track. Panicked, the Muggle conductor jammed the brakes. Lights flickered throughout the crowded compartments as sparks flew up from the locked wheels. The subway train squealed, lurched, and then derailed. Passenger cars jackknifed into zigzag patterns on the raised tracks, still screeching forward under the force of their inertia. Windows shattered and screams filled the cars, even as the magical train before it leapt into the air, spun sideways, and vanished beneath the elevated tracks, zooming onward.
Lincoln Tunnel became the sight of forty car pileup as motorists suddenly confronted the shocking sight of a flying hippogriff and its rider, swooping low over the traffic, its wingtips brushing the roofs of buses.
At LaGuardia Airport, alarms sounded at every terminal. Klaxons rang out over the runways, forcing planes to brake even as they lined up for takeoff. Airliners suddenly pulled up in midlanding as warning beacons lanced out, warning pilots of the thousands of unidentified flying objects which had suddenly appeared, crowding the New York airspace.
Throughout the entire city, Muggles clamored to the windows of their apartments and office buildings, gaping at the strange flashing lights, alien billboards, and flying magical traffic. Some became alarmed enough to produce guns and make their way into the streets, demanding answers from the strange people that had suddenly appeared. Shots rang out, mostly aimed into the air, at the mysterious flying traffic, although, thankfully, very few bullets actually struck their marks.
Across the country, televisions tuned to the event. Muggle viewers sat awestruck, disbelieving their own eyes as the networks interrupted their normal broadcasts, preempting them with live footage of the incredible scenes in New York City. Around bars, living rooms, and hospital waiting rooms, televisions were turned up as viewers fell silent, slack-jawed. CNN showed a live shot of the Statue of Liberty, suddenly and shockingly hunkered on her base, her torch plunged into the ocean up to her copper wrist. The running banner along the bottom of the screen read, ‘NY SENATOR CHARLES FILMORE FOUND DEAD/UNEXPLAINED MASS PHENOMENON OVERWHELMS NYC…’
And in the center of the Memorial Day parade route, Merlinus Ambrosius moved through the rioting throng, gathering James, Zane, and Ralph close to him, looking down at the pathetic form of Lucy Weasley, dead in Ralph’s strong arms. Harry Potter pushed toward them through the crowd, his face stern. Behind him, shooting Stunning Spells up at the swirling W.U.L.F. assassins and the running looters that had suddenly appeared, stalked Titus Hardcastle.
Merlin surveyed them all gravely and then turned his gaze to the pandemonium that was unfolding all around.
“What happened?” Harry called out, surveying the rioting crowd.
With grim composure, Merlin replied, “Ms. Morganstern has relieved the world of its ignorance.”
Just like Eve, James thought, frowning sadly. She isn’t evil, just mistaken. She ate the forbidden fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, and then she gave it to the rest of the world. He shuddered as another thought occurred to him.
Merlin glanced down at him and his face suddenly looked very old. “What is it, James? What do you know?”
James sighed. “I was just thinking about Petra and Eve,” he replied, and then met the old man’s eyes. “I was thinking about how people have always called this city ‘the Big Apple’.”
Merlin nodded. “The fruit of knowledge,” he agreed morosely, “offered to the rest of the world. From here, just as with Eve, there will be no turning back.”
All around, the Muggle crowd roared and rioted, boggling up at the magical city above them. Car alarms blared as people abandoned the footpaths and clambered over vehicles. Glass shattered as store windows were broken, inundated by people seeking refuge from the frightening sights all around. Harry Potter and Titus Hardcastle continued to fire their wands into the air, Stunning the remaining W.U.L.F. assassins or chasing them into hiding.
Merlin spoke once more. “Do you know what else they call this city?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he went on. “They call it… ‘The City that Never Sleeps’.”
With that, he raised his staff in both of his hands, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles whitened. He coiled himself, uttered something incomprehensible in his ancient mother tongue, and plunged the staff back down again, driving it into the pavement like a spike.
A massive flash blinded James. It seemed as large as the sun, but heatless and silent. When James blinked and looked around again, he saw the flash still, like a dome of light. It spread along the canyon of the street, growing larger, rippling noiselessly over the thousands of Muggles gathered there. As it passed over them, lighting them for a moment with its bony glow, they froze in their tracks. Within seconds, the milling, heaving Muggle crowd fell silent and still, petrified by the receding blast, like ten thousand statues.
The television cameras shut down. Every electric light in the city flickered, buzzed, and went dark. Stoplights winked out over intersections and cars rolled to gentle stops, knocking bumpers dully on the crowded streets. Silence fell over the city as wizarding New Amsterdam surveyed the suddenly inert body of its sister, Muggle New York, silent and dark as a crypt below it.
James turned back toward Merlin and blinked in surprise. James, Ralph, Zane, Harry Potter, and Titus Hardcastle stood in a circle around the space where Merlin had been standing only moments earlier, but the big wizard himself was nowhere in sight. In his place, still vibrating faintly with the shock of its planting, was the rune-covered staff. The runes no longer glowed with their faint inner light. Now they were completely dark.
“Oh no,” Harry said into the sudden silence. He shook his head in woeful ne
gation. James looked around at the frozen tableaux of Muggle humanity and then glanced helplessly up at his father. Harry wasn’t looking at the human statues that filled the streets, however. He was looking down at the dead figure of his niece, held in Ralph’s arms.
“Lucy,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. Gently, he took her body from Ralph and cradled it in his own arms.
“The woman is gone,” Titus declared somberly, scanning the petrified crowd. “And her protégé is dead.”
James blinked and followed Titus’ gaze. A figure lay on the ground amidst the sea of human statuary. A hitch rose in James’ chest as he broke away from the group and moved toward the shape. When he reached it, he knelt down.
Morgan’s hair had fallen across her bloody face, obscuring it. James could see immediately that the girl was dead just as Titus had declared. Protruding from her back, its jeweled handle glinting maliciously, was a silver dagger. For the third time that night, James’ eyes blurred with tears. Morgan—the Petra from some other, less fortunate dimension—had merely been Judith’s pawn after all. Petra and Izzy, Judith’s unknowing and unwitting sister Fates, had been the real prize all along. Once the Lady of the Lake had finished using Morgan, she had disposed of her, quickly and without a second thought.
Morgan’s eyes were open, staring calmly at the heel of a petrified man who had frozen in the act of jumping over her body. James bit his lips sorrowfully and then reached forward. As gently as he could, he closed Morgan’s eyes.
“We must go,” Titus said from behind him, addressing the group. “Merlinus’ Petrification Spell may only last a few hours.”
James stood up slowly and turned around. Harry drew a deep breath and then, still cradling Lucy’s body against his shoulder, lifted his wand to his throat.
“Attention, all magical denizens of New Amsterdam,” he called, sending his amplified voice echoing up into the canyons of the buildings. “You must leave this place immediately. It is no longer safe for you here. The city of New Amsterdam is now a compromised zone. Soon, the Muggle city below you will reanimate. When it does…” Here, Harry paused and drew a deep, reluctant breath. “When it does, it will be unsafe for you to be here. For the immediate future, you must evacuate as quickly and as calmly as you can. Take only what you need, and attempt to be gone by morning.”
Overhead, the magical city began to rumble nervously. The flying highways and byways, which had paused in alarm during the massive flash of Merlin’s Petrification Spell, fell into frantic, zooming motion.
Harry pocketed his wand and took James’ hand in his own.
“I have sent word to your mother,” he said. “She and your brother and sister will Apparate here soon to meet us, and your aunt, uncle, and cousin Molly will follow them shortly.” He looked aside, inviting Ralph and Zane into the conversation as well. “Tell me exactly what happened, all of you, so that I may be prepared to give Percy and Audrey this awful news.”
James drew a deep, shuddering breath, but Zane answered first.
“She died trying to save Izzy,” he said gravely. “There’s a lot more to the story, but that’s the most important thing. That’s the only part that really matters.”
Together, as the group set out toward the nearby waterfront, weaving through the throng of Muggle statues, the three boys began to tell their tale.
The Lady of the Lake was gone, vanished away into hiding, as were Petra and Izzy.
Morgan, the unfortunate Petra from another dimension, lay dead with the ugly dagger still protruding from her back.
Confetti still sifted down into the eerily frozen, suddenly darkened streets.
And Merlinus Ambrosius was no more.
25. THOSE WHO STAYED BEHIND
Denniston Dolohov chose to remain in America, at least for a time.
An envoy from the Crystal Mountain had met Harry Potter and the rest on the docks that very night—the Night of the Unveiling, as it soon came to be called. Benjamin Franklyn was among the representatives from the American wizarding government, as was Professors Jackson and, to James’ surprise, Persephone Remora, who was looking decidedly less composed than usual. Together, they extended their official condolences to Percy, Audrey, and Molly for their loss. Percy accepted this somewhat blankly, as if he was in shock. Audrey refused to look at her visitors or anyone else. Her eyes were red and swollen as she hugged Molly to her. Molly, James noticed, was sucking the first two fingers of her right hand—something she hadn’t done since she was five years old.
Next, the envoy acknowledged Harry and Titus’ innocence in the death of Senator Charles Filmore, but warned that this would be rather harder to prove to the Magical Integration Bureau. Franklyn vowed to do his diplomatic best on their behalf, but made no promises.
Finally, the envoy turned their attention to Denniston Dolohov, who had Side-Along Apparated directly to the harbor with Percy Weasley. James was surprised at what they said. They officially requested that Dolohov remain with them for the immediate future to help with the security and ambassadorial demands of the coming days and weeks. Being an expert on Muggle/magical security, as well as a Squib who had been raised among Muggles, Dolohov was just the sort of individual to assist in the daunting task at hand—that of protecting the city of New Amsterdam and explaining its existence to the Muggle New Yorkers beneath it. Somewhat reluctantly (although not, James suspected, as reluctantly as he let on), Dolohov agreed.
James would have liked to have had more time to say goodbye to his friends, but it was an emergency situation and he understood.
“Bye Zane,” he said, reaching to shake the boy’s hand where they stood on the dark pier. “The ship will be here any moment, so…”
Zane threw an arm around James’ shoulders and drew him into a fierce embrace. When he released his friend, Zane’s face was pale and tense. “This changes everything, doesn’t it?”
James shrugged and then nodded. “That’s what Merlin said back when the Vault was first broken into.”
“Do you think the old man’s really gone for good?”
James did. He nodded.
“See you, James,” Ralph sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to stay behind.”
“You’ll be back soon enough,” James assured him. “Just be careful. Things are like to be pretty dodgy around here for the next bit.”
Ralph nodded morosely. “I know it probably won’t be much better back home, but still… this is where it’s all beginning. I’d really love to just put the whole mess behind me for awhile.”
“Sorry,” James said seriously. “I know. Try to get home soon.”
A foghorn echoed over the dark water of the harbor. James turned and saw the silhouette of a low ship approaching, weaving its way through the much larger ships moored nearby. Soon, the magical ship—not the Gwyndemere this time—would be at the dock. He and his family would climb the gangplank to its deck, leaving the rest of his traveling companions behind. His heart was low as he turned back to his friends once more.
“Take care of yourselves,” he said. “We can keep up via the Shard. You have mine and I can use Dad’s. Don’t forget.”
“We won’t,” Ralph assured him. “Tell Rose and the rest we said hi.”
James rolled his eyes, dreading the task of explaining all of this to Rose, but he nodded anyway.
The ship swept slowly into position alongside the pier. Ropes thumped to the dock and were secured to nearby bollards. The gangplank appeared.
It took only a few minutes for the Potters and Weasleys to climb aboard. Apart from a few hastily packed bags gathered by James’ mum, they had left most of their things behind, abandoned, at least for now.
Shortly, the ship was underway, gliding smoothly across the black waves beneath a cloudy night sky. James and Albus’ owls, Nobby and Flynn, had flown to meet them at the pier and now circled the ship like silent kites, alighting occasionally on the ship’s masts. James leaned against the stern railing and watched. The New York skyline was eerily da
rk, lit only by the relatively dimmer lights of New Amsterdam.
“Why do you think she did it?” James asked quietly. Next to him, also leaning on the railing, Albus shrugged.
“To save Dad and Titus. Right?”
James shook his head vaguely. “I don’t know.” He thought for a long moment, and then said, “She could have done it some other way. Don’t you think? She could have… I don’t know… battled Morgan right there on the street and broken her spell over the helicopter. Or perhaps she could have just thought all those W.U.L.F. killers to death. She can do that kind of thing, you know. She doesn’t even need a wand.”
Albus nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed doubtfully. “But I guess she’d just had enough with death. Don’t you think?”
James sighed deeply. He thought of the journey Judith had forced them to take through the Nexus Curtains—all the killings and mayhem she had made them witness, all the loved ones murdered for the sake the struggle against evil. Even that had been part of Judith’s plan, pushing Petra to make her final, ultimate decision.
“She wasn’t just trying to save Dad,” James finally said. “She was trying to change it all. It was probably a huge mistake… and it’ll probably end in even more death… but maybe she was just tired of things being the way they are. Maybe this was just her final act of rejection.”
Albus frowned. “Rejection of what?”
James shook his head. “Everything,” he said grimly. “Just… everything.”
Albus considered this. After a minute, he stirred and dug his hand into his back pocket.
“Here,” he said, holding something out to James.
“My wand,” James said, taking the wooden shaft from his brother’s hand. “You found it down on the Clutch field?”
Albus shrugged and leaned on the railing again. “I thought you’d want it. I went looking for it after you lot went dimension-hopping.”
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