Emma, the captain, Gabriel, and Wilamena all stared at him.
“You are certain of this?” Gabriel asked.
“Yes.” He took Emma’s hand, felt how it trembled. “That’s not our dad.”
Emma’s eyes darted nervously from Michael to Gabriel. She was scared, but she was with him. She nodded.
“Boy—”
There was a soft twang, and then the shaft of an arrow was protruding from the chest of the man beside Rourke. The mountainside fell silent.
“Michael …” Emma gripped his arm.
“Wait.”
The man slumped to his knees and fell forward onto the black rocks.
Michael stayed absolutely still. He didn’t blink; he didn’t breathe.…
Then Rourke began to laugh, a deep, rolling laugh that echoed all through the canyon. With his boot, he flipped the man over. Their father had disappeared. In his place lay a short, sandy-haired man with an arrow in his chest.
“He was wearing a glamour!” Wilamena cried. “Rabbit, you’re a genius!”
She seized him and kissed his cheek.
“My dad would never mistake The Dwarf Omnibus,” Michael said, trying not to show his relief. “Or think that King Killick was an elf. Ridiculous.” Then he looked at Emma and squeezed her hand. “Thanks for trusting me.”
Emma said nothing, but hugged him tightly.
“Well, lad,” Rourke shouted, “I guess we’ll do this the old-fashioned way.” He turned to his horde. “Bring me the children! Kill the rest!”
And so the battle began.
“What do you mean? Who’s burning the church? The Imps?”
Kate, Rafe, and Beetles were standing in the middle of the street as the revelers continued to spin and dance about them. Rafe had grabbed Beetles by his jacket.
“Ain’t the Imps!” Beetles cried, his eyes wild. “It’s humans! There’re mobs all over the city! Going after anything to do with magic!”
“But the church is hidden!” Kate said. “It’s supposed to be invisible!”
The boy shook his head. “Not no more.”
Rafe said, “What happened to Scruggs?”
“He was with you, right? Went to the Imp mansion?”
“But he didn’t come in! After he gave me the glamour, he stayed in the street.”
“Yeah, well, coming back to the church, he run into a mob going after these two witches. Scruggs stopped ’em, but someone threw a brick or a rock or something and clopped him smack on the head. He’s dead, Scruggs is.”
“Scruggs is dead?” Kate was stunned.
“Sure. Them two witches brought ’im back to the church, told us what happened. I was there when they brought ’im in. He said, ‘I’m thirsty.’ Then fell down dead as dead. Second later—bang—the church was there for everyone to see. People on the street started shouting and pointing. Wasn’t a half hour later the mob came. They had torches and guns—”
“And they knew,” Rafe said, “they knew there were kids inside?”
“Sure they knew,” Beetles said. “Miss B told ’em. They didn’t care. They just started burning the church!”
Rafe charged through the crowd, disappearing down the darkened street. Beetles took off after him, and it was all Kate could do to keep up. The long coat hampered her legs, and the boots the gnomes had given her kept slipping on the snow and ice. It was quickly apparent that Beetles was telling the truth: on street after street, they passed gangs of men—sometimes bands of three or four, sometimes a dozen—moving through the city with torches and burning anything that hinted of magic. Kate wondered how she and Rafe hadn’t seen or heard the mobs before, but then perhaps they had, only from a distance, the shouting and the torches were easily mistaken for celebration. It seemed to Kate as if a madness had taken hold of the city, as if people could sense the coming change and knew this was their last chance to vent their rage before the magic world disappeared.
“What time is it?” she shouted to Beetles as the two of them raced through the streets.
“Past eleven! Got less than an hour till the Separation!”
“Where’s everyone else? Where’s Jake and Abigail?”
“Dunno. The mob was all round the church, and Miss B told me to go find Rafe. She thought he mighta taken you down there. What were you two doing?”
Kate didn’t respond. By then, she could see the flames against the night sky and hear the shouting, and when they came around the last corner, Kate was stopped dead by the sight before her. The church was completely engulfed in flames, the snow melted for a dozen yards all around it. A crowd had gathered in the street; many people waved torches and appeared to be cheering on the fire. She didn’t see Rafe.
“Over here!”
Beetles was sprinting toward an alley across the street from the church. She followed him, and there, huddled between the buildings, were Abigail and twenty other small children. Their faces were streaked with soot, and their eyes were large and filled with fear. Abigail immediately threw herself into Kate’s arms.
“You’re okay?” Kate asked, hugging the girl tightly. “You’re all okay?”
Abigail nodded and wiped at her eyes, tears smearing the ash on her cheeks. “Miss B sent us out the side door. Whole place was on fire, but she went back in, said there were others she had to get out. She’s still in there!”
“What about Jake?” Beetles demanded. “You see Jake get out all right?”
The girl shook her head.
“He’ll be okay,” Kate told him. “He’ll get out.”
Even as they were talking, another group of children came running into the alley. They were covered in soot and terrified. They said they had been trapped inside the church, but that Rafe had broken through the door and led them outside. Kate could see Beetles looking around frantically; he seemed on the verge of tears.
“Where’s Jake? Somebody musta seen Jake? Who seen him get out?”
The children all shook their heads.
“I seen him in the church,” one girl said. “I thought he was coming with us. I don’t know where he is.”
Without another word, Beetles sprinted off toward the church.
Kate looked at Abigail. “Is there somewhere safe you can go?”
Abigail nodded. “The Bowery Theater. Down near the magic quarter. The manager’s a friend of Miss B’s.”
“Go there then,” Kate said. “You’re in charge. You can do this.”
Watching Abigail push out her jaw and square her shoulders, Kate was reminded again of Emma. The young girl turned to face the other children.
“Right! Everybody find someone else to hold hands with! We’re going downtown.”
The children moved about, finding buddies.
“What about you?” Abigail asked Kate.
“I’m going after Beetles.”
And she turned and ran toward the fire.
The church stood at the corner of First Avenue and a narrow cross street, and the mob was massed along the avenue. There were men and boys, and they held torches and knives and clubs. They were all shouting and laughing and cheering, and they threw rocks and bottles crashing through the church’s remaining windows, their faces red and demonic in the light from the blaze. Kate lingered for a moment at the back of the crowd.
How could they do this? she wondered. Where could so much hatred come from? These were children living here; they’d done nothing wrong!
Kate felt anger welling up inside her; she wanted to lash out at the mob, to hurt them; and it flickered through her mind that this must be how Rafe felt all the time.
Forcing herself to focus, she ran around the mob to the cross street behind the church. There was a wall separating the church from the houses on the block, and Kate ran alongside it. The heat from the fire was tremendous and stung her face. Beetles was throwing himself against a flaming door, again and again. Kate pulled him back.
“Stop! It’s too dangerous!”
“He’s still in there!” Beetles
sobbed, struggling to get free. “Jake’s still in there! Lemme go! I gotta—”
The door exploded outward. Black smoke billowed forth, and figures stumbled out, a dozen children, seventeen, eighteen, bent over and hacking, their faces blackened with smoke. Kate led them away, checking each one to make sure that he or she was okay. Jake was not among the children, and Kate turned and saw Beetles shielding his eyes and edging toward the door. She caught the boy as he made to leap.
“Let go a’ me! I gotta—”
Just then another figure emerged from the smoke. Kate saw that it was Rafe and he was holding a child in his arms.
Beetles went limp against Kate.
“Is that …,” he said. “… Is he?”
For it was Jake whom Rafe was carrying, and the younger boy’s face was smoke-stained and his eyes were shut. Kate felt her heart clench like a fist. No, she thought, please no.
Then the boy coughed thickly and blinked, his eyes red and watery. He saw Kate and Beetles.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Beetles said, crying and smiling at the same time.
Kate reached out and touched the boy’s hair. “What were you doing in there? Thinking about opening a shop?”
Jake smiled and said, weakly, “Yeah, the Burning-Down-the-Church Shop.”
Rafe set the boy on his feet, and Beetles put his arm around his friend.
“That’s all the kids.” Rafe’s face was smoke-black and his voice raw. “Where’re the ones who’re already out?”
“Abigail led them downtown,” Kate said. “To the Bowery Theater. She said the manager’s a friend of Miss Burke’s.”
Rafe looked at Beetles. “You heard that? You can take these other kids down there?”
“Course!” Beetles said, all his old confidence restored. “Hey, listen up! All you Savages follow me!”
And with Jake’s arm over his shoulder, he led the children away.
Kate and Rafe were alone for only a moment when there was a crashing inside the church, then a loud metallic clang that was audible even over the roaring of the flames.
“One of the bells,” Rafe said. “It fell outta the tower.”
He started back into the church, but Kate caught his arm.
“What’re you doing? All the kids are out!”
“I’m gonna get Miss B.” He pulled free and disappeared into the smoke.
Kate didn’t hesitate, but plunged in after him. Indeed, even if she’d thought longer—about her responsibilities to Michael and Emma, to her parents, about the fact that despite everything Rafe might still become her enemy—she would’ve acted the same. Just like Dr. Pym and Gabriel and King Robbie McLaur, Rafe had put himself in danger to protect her and, through that, her family. Now he needed her help.
She kept her head down and one arm up and before her face. The heat scorched her skin, the smoke burned her eyes, but then she was through to the main hall of the church, where the ceilings were so high that the smoke collected far above. She pulled off her coat and dropped it to the floor. The air burned her throat and lungs, and she wondered how long till the whole church came crashing down.
She was grabbed by the arm and yanked about.
“What’re you doing?” Rafe demanded.
“I’m not leaving you in here alone!”
Rafe looked furious, but then part of the ceiling collapsed over the door that Kate had come through. Her exit was blocked.
“There’s no time to argue!” Kate shouted. “We need to find Miss Burke and get out!”
He seized her hand. “Don’t let go of my hand! No matter what!”
He took off through the church, dragging Kate behind him. At the base of the tower were the two enormous shattered bells. As Kate and Rafe clambered over the broken pieces, Kate’s boot slid and her hand slipped from Rafe’s. Instantly, smoke scorched her lungs, and the heat became unbearable. Kate began to cry out, but Rafe snatched up her hand, and she felt a cocoon of cooler air descend around them.
“I can protect you!” he shouted. “But you have to hold my hand! Come on!”
Kate nodded, and they started up the corkscrewing, rickety stairs.
The falling bell had ripped out huge sections of the staircase, and what remained was being consumed by fire. Still, Kate and Rafe charged upward, avoiding the planks that seemed most likely to collapse and leaping hand in hand over the spots where there were no stairs at all. Kate kept thinking that not only did they have to come back down these same stairs, which the flames were devouring with each passing second, but there were still two more bells hanging above them. How long till they came crashing down?
Then she and the boy were scrambling up through the trapdoor and out onto the open platform of the belfry.
Kate had been expecting to find Henrietta Burke either dead or trapped under a collapsed beam. It turned out to be neither. The woman was standing at the edge of the belfry, her upright figure silhouetted by flames, staring calmly down at the street below. The cold night air made breathing in the belfry bearable, and Rafe released Kate’s hand and ran across to the woman. Kate watched as Henrietta Burke turned to face Rafe, and she heard the boy’s voice, demanding, pleading. Then Henrietta Burke shook her head, and she said something that Kate couldn’t hear.
What was she doing? Kate wondered. They were wasting time.
Above her, the bells clanged against one another as the heat rising from the tower wafted them back and forth.
Rafe came back to Kate and he was wiping away tears and wouldn’t meet her eye.
“She wants to talk to you.”
“What?”
“She wants to talk to you. Go! This place is gonna fall apart any second!”
Unsure of what was happening, Kate crossed the belfry. It seemed to her that the entire tower had begun to wobble. Henrietta Burke had her shawl drawn around her shoulders and was staring down at the mob in the street. Kate could see the torches, like fireflies, moving about in the darkness.
“Rafe tells me all the children got out.”
“Yes.”
“And you sent them to the Bowery Theater? That’s good. My friend there knows what to do. I made arrangements long ago in case this sort of thing happened. There’s a place upstate. The children will be educated. Grow up in safety. And to think that we were so close to being safe forever. But regret is futile. Life is lived forward, even for time travelers such as yourself.”
“Miss Burke—”
“No, listen to me.” She turned then and looked at Kate. “People think me a hard woman, but the truth is much deeper. I gave up my own child long ago. I thought he would be safer among those who knew no magic, raised as one of them. I was wrong. His nature revealed itself; and when he needed me, I was not there. I have been paying that debt ever since. Rafe is the son I should have raised. But I can no longer protect him.”
Kate felt the awful weight of the woman’s words. Henrietta Burke stepped closer. “You remember our agreement? I help you to get home, and in return, I ask for payment at the time of my choosing. That time is now.”
“But we need to go! The fire—”
“Child,” the gray-haired woman said, “I am going nowhere.”
She opened her shawl, and Kate saw the dagger-like shard of glass protruding from the woman’s side. Blood was dripping off the glass and down her dress.
“Rafe wants me to escape. He still believes magic can fix everything. But all magic comes with a price, and the price to heal me would be too high. I am staying.”
Kate opened her mouth, but no words came out. The horror of the situation and the woman’s calm resolve had left her speechless. Henrietta Burke went on:
“I know who Rafe is. Scruggs thought I didn’t, but I have always known the role that awaits him. Still, he has a choice.”
The woman seized Kate’s shoulder; her gray eyes were fixed and intense.
“Love him.”
“Wh-what?”
“That is why you’re here. That is why you ca
me. You’ve already changed him. You can’t see it, but I can. You are the only hope he has. You must love him.”
Kate stared at the woman. The tower swayed, the bells clanged, shouts carried up from the street, flames swept over the roof. She shook her head.
“You don’t understand … you don’t understand who—”
“I know exactly who he is. Who he is destined to become. But you can still save him. Love him, child. Love him as he already loves you.”
“Please … don’t ask me that.”
“But I must. It is the only hope we have.”
Then the woman leaned forward and whispered in Kate’s ear. “And here is my half of the bargain: you do not need a witch or a wizard or anyone else to help you access the power inside you. You never have. Stop fighting and let it out.”
Instantly, Kate knew the woman was right. The power was in her; she could feel it even then, feel herself fighting against it. She’d been fighting it for months, ever since she’d taken the Countess into the past and something in her had been changed forever.
The Atlas’s power was her power. She could not deny it any longer.
“Now go.” And the woman, still staring in Kate’s eyes, called out, “Take her!”
Kate felt her arm seized, and Rafe dragged her toward the trapdoor. Just as they prepared to descend, there was a crash, the floor shuddered, and Kate and Rafe looked back to see the corner of the belfry crumble. Like that, the woman was gone.
The journey back down the bell tower was even more perilous than Kate had imagined. More steps had collapsed, and Kate could feel the cushion of cool air that Rafe had created growing weaker and weaker. Still, Kate felt like she was in a dream, that nothing about her was real. Her mind couldn’t process that the stern woman was really gone, much less the things she had said.
Then, at the last flight of stairs, Kate heard the sound she had been dreading, and it pulled her back to the moment. She and Rafe both looked up and saw the dark, gaping mouth of the bell crashing down toward them, splintering through the wooden stairs. At the same moment, the stairway they were standing on collapsed. As they fell, Rafe hurled Kate toward the door. She landed on her side, slamming into the wall, landing so that she had a perfect view of Rafe, in the center of the tower, lying unmoving on the floor.
The Fire Chronicle Page 26