She returned my nod, drew her hood over her head, and disappeared.
Jackie roared some ineffable sound and snapped his fingers. Across the clearing, Gideon stumbled out from between two wagons with a pair of cloaked Magicians following close behind, pinning his hands behind his back. Fear flashed across his face when he saw me on the ground at Jackie’s feet. “Evie!”
Jackie’s face twisted as though he’d tasted something bitter. “I know your weaknesses, Lady Thunder. You care about people. Your heart is soft, compassionate. You’ll do anything to save those you care about.” He wrapped his fingers around my upper arm and stood, jerking me to my feet.
I screeched, certain his rough handling had ripped several of my stitches. Gideon lunged, but his captors jerked his arms, pulling him back. He stumbled and fell to one knee with a grunt.
Jackie’s brow furrowed as he examined my face, my heaving chest, my clenched teeth. His face wavered, going fuzzy around the edges, and I feared losing consciousness. If I passed out, our defeat was certain. Jackie would take me away, and no telling what Le Poing Fermé would do with Gideon or Genevieve. It was my fault they were here. I wouldn’t be the reason either of my friends came to harm—Jackie was right about that much at least.
“What’s happened to you, Evelyn? Are you hurt?” His gaze dropped to the low neckline of my blouse, a thin linen shift that would have revealed too much if not for the bejeweled waistcoat keeping me modest. Jackie fingered my collar, pulling it aside. I jerked away from him, but he’d seen enough. “You’re wounded? How?”
I bared my teeth at him, refusing to answer.
He clicked his tongue. “You know I can heal you.” Pressing two fingers to my chest, he lightly touched my shirt where it lay over my wound. His pale brows drew together, and he blinked at me. He inhaled a strangled gasp. Stumbling back, he dropped my arm as though it had burned him.
Gathering my strength, feeble as it was, I raised my chin and straightened my back. “I have survived. No thanks to you and your Brigands.”
“There’s a foul Magic at play, here.” He shook his head. “Darkness. Death.” He narrowed his eyes. “It’s the same Magic that was driving that abominable beast....” He twisted his fingers as if wrenching something from the air. “Before I snuffed his life force and sent his spirit back to the Shadowlands.”
I staggered. Grief forked through me like tree roots spreading deep into the earth. Sher-sah! I clenched my jaw and snarled. “The only abominable beasts around here are you and your filthy cabal.”
Jackie raised his hand as if to strike me, but instead he balled his fingers into a fist. “Bring him here,” he shouted. “The charlatan who did this—find him and bring him to me.”
The members of the cabal not occupied with restraining Gideon bowed and peeled away, disappearing into the night shadows. A cold finger of dread swirled the contents of my gut. What would they do to Svieta if they found her?
I stepped away, seeking to gain some distance between me and Jackie. Preparing another lightning attack would require room, but did I have the strength? My mind buzzed as though dozens of voices were calling to me at once.
Falak....
He’d executed his part of the plan as promised, and so had the members of Le Cirque de Merveilles Mécanique. They owed me nothing. My presence among them had put them all in danger more than once, but there they were, lending their faith, worshiping me. Their prayers echoed in my ears, and the storms answered in kind, rumbling, roaring.
Fisting my hands at my sides, I met Jackie’s cold stare. “What did you do to my lion?”
He flinched. “Your lion?”
“You’ll pay, Jackie Faercourt. You don’t get to march into my life, destroy the ones I care about, and think you’ll get away without a reckoning.”
Thunder boomed. The wagons rattled from the concussion of soundwaves and energy. Clouds boiled like a poisonous brew, and lightning crawled through their pulsing mass like glowing veins and arteries. The circus troupe had given me enough for one more brutal attack, and I would have to make sure I used it wisely.
Jackie’s cold mask slipped, and for a moment he revealed a flash of worry. Not fear, though. Not yet. “Make no idle threats, my lady.” He pointed at Gideon still captive on the opposite side of the clearing. “Your guardian will be dead before you make your first strike.”
I spread my arms out at my side, ignoring the strain the gesture put on my injuries, and opened myself up, letting faith pour in. Channeling the circus troupe’s devotion into the skies, I fed the storms, and they increased and grew until the atmosphere looked like an ocean of black and purple rage. “Kill him, Jackie, and you’ll never have me.” I rolled my hand, and a bolt of lightning as wide as a river split the sky. “I’ll destroy us all if I have to. It’s the price I’m willing to pay to make sure your plan never succeeds.”
When Gideon and I’d played prist that night in the empress’s apartment, I’d learned winning depended on two factors: luck and a talent for bluffing. Defeating Jackie would require an identical set of factors. Falak had once accused me of being too straightforward and plainspoken to be a convincing actor. In any other circumstance, he would have been right, but success in this moment depended on my ability to convince Jackie I was committed to executing every threat and promise I had made. I hoped that during the last two weeks I’d spent among them, some of Falak’s and Genevieve’s talent for showmanship had worn off on me.
I watched as a shadow of doubt crossed Jackie’s face. His brow furrowed, and he blinked.
His hesitation will be his doom, my grandfather hissed.
I spread my feet, bracing myself, and slashed a hand through the space between Jackie and me. At the same time, he cried out in a foreign tongue and crooked his fingers into a strange configuration. I looked across the clearing, caught Gideon’s gaze, and nodded as another rippling, shimmering barricade fell over Jackie, a barrier clearly meant to protect him from the lighting.
A bolt of energy streaked from the sky—
—and struck the ground at Gideon’s feet, or where his feet had been only moments before he’d disappeared.
When my vision recovered from the explosion of light, the two Magicians who had held Gideon captive were crumpled to the ground. Gideon was on his knees, arms wrapped protectively over his head, and Genevieve stood beside him, the Thunder Cloak unfastened to reveal her presence. I’d once told Gideon the cloak had many tricks up its sleeves. I hadn’t been lying. She bent and tugged a weapon from beneath one of the fallen Magicians: Sephonie, Gideon’s crossbow.
Gideon looked up, flashed a gesture indicating he was all right, and scrambled to his feet.
I waved at the princess. Keep him safe, Genevieve.
Jackie’s barricade fell, and he lurched toward me, muttering.
I extended my will again, gathering energy for another attack. Jackie was losing, but he wasn’t one to easily admit defeat. As I reached for another lightning bolt, he lunged, tossing his hands out as if throwing a pail of water at me. It wasn’t water, though. It was pain—the same mind-crushing agony Ruelle Thibodaux had used to keep me imprisoned in his home.
I nearly bit my tongue in two as my teeth clenched. I dropped to my knees then to the ground.
“Faercourt!’ Gideon yelled, his voice cutting through the swirling vortex of anguish in my head. “Let her go.”
The pain eased, and I blinked until the blackness faded from my vision. Gideon stood a few yards away with his arm raised, pointing Sephonie at Jackie’s head. The Magician raised his hands, splayed his fingers wide, and went still. Yet his silver eyes seemed to swirl with malevolent Magic.
I pushed myself to my knees and grunted. Genevieve appeared at my side and latched onto my arm, steadying me as I rose. “The lengths you’ll go through to claim me for your own wicked schemes...” I shook my head. “You called Sher-sah an abomination.” I hacked a wad of phlegm and spat it at Jackie’s feet. “What a hypocrite you are, Jackie Faercourt.”
A cold smile tugged at the corner of his lips—so beautiful, yet so wicked. “What a waste, Evie. All that fierceness and strength, and it’s so misplaced.” He jerked his chin toward Gideon. “What will you do with me, now, Sir Faust? Kill me in cold blood?”
“Stop!” A shout rose from behind us—a familiar voice. I was too afraid of letting Jackie out of my sight to turn around and see who else had arrived at our macabre gathering, but the speaker’s next words confirmed his identity.
“Magicians are not judged by mortal standards.” Otokar’s voice came nearer. A collection of clattering footsteps approached, sounding like a small herd of armored soldiers. Soldiers from the empress’s royal guard, if I had to guess. “Faercourt must stand before the Council of Magic for the crimes he has committed, including the attack he ordered on guests of Prigha castle, as well as jeopardizing the safety of her sister, the princess of Bonhemm, by attacking her today without provocation or cause.”
