I hurried to match his pace. “The trap of thinking you have no choice. Being fatalistic is a lot easier. I’ll give you that. It absolves your guilt. It lulls you into a false sense of righteousness and innocence. How can you be responsible for anything if you have no choice? No say? When things go badly, when you cause pain and harm, there’s always someone else, something else, to blame. How convenient. How easy for you.” I hocked a wad of phlegm from my throat and spat. “All that Magic. All that power, and yet you are so utterly, infuriatingly weak.”

He stopped so abruptly I crashed against him. He grasped my shoulders and squeezed. The blaze in his eyes had turned hotter, angrier. Good. I was so tired of his cold indifference. Anger was the emotion of a real person, not a lifeless ice carving.

“Deny all you want, but our lives are intertwined, Evelyn. I’ve accepted it. I’m at peace with it. It’s my fate to fulfill this particular destiny.”

“But is it what you want?”

“What I want doesn’t matter.” He bared his teeth and clenched my shoulders tighter. “I lost everything, and wanting didn’t bring it back. Wanting never gave me a damned thing other than pain and heartache and an empty life with no meaning. Fate gave me purpose again.”

I knew he’d lost his parents at an early age, but I wondered what else had happened to cause him so much pain. To stoke so much anger. Why had I never taken the time to find out? I’d never tried to understand Jackie before and wondered if doing so would have made a difference. Would it have changed anything? “What happened that made you so hopeless?”

“You want me to tell you my sad story so you can feel sorry for me? No thanks. I don’t want your pity.”

“How can you have purpose when you’re nothing more than a puppet dancing at the end of Le Poing Fermé’s strings?”

He shoved me. I stumbled. My heel caught a root, and I fell, landing hard on my rear.

“I’m tired of your words, Evelyn. They’re meaningless. Empty.” He waved his hand. A hum filled the air.

Then faded away.

Perhaps he had meant to use his Magic to silence me. But it hadn’t worked.

I stood and brushed dirt from my pants while Jackie stared at me, not bothering to mask his astonishment. “What have you done, little goddess?” He slashed his hand between us again and snarled an angry word. Again the hum rose and faded. A flash of distress crossed his face. “This isn’t the first time my Magic hasn’t worked on you. What have you done?”

A devious smile played across my lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Jackie’s mouth opened, but before he could speak, an eerie red glow filled the darkness around us. The radiance illuminated Brigette’s face as she stepped into our path. Her smile was fiendish when she winked. “Funny meeting you here, huh?”

My shock at seeing her was so great, I lost my breath.

But when Gideon’s hulking figure emerged from the gloom behind her, my composure shattered.

Instant burning tears tumbled down my cheeks. My knees gave away, but he caught me. He held me close, folding himself around me. His voice rumbled in my ear as he chuckled. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

A storm of emotions battered against me, and I trembled. Until now, I hadn’t fully allowed myself to dwell on whether Gideon had survived and escaped the basilica. It hurt too much to think that he might’ve been trapped there—or worse. The relief of his presence overwhelmed me. Crushing. “We—” I swallowed. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

His deep chuckle was a balm to soothe my ragged soul.

“What are you two doing here?” Jackie sneered. “How did you find us?”

“There was a magical signal planted not far from here,” Brigette said. “I figured it was a beacon of sorts, so I followed it, suspecting we might run into you. Looks like my instincts were right.”

“How did you get here, though? From Isolas.” I sneered at her. “I was certain you’d run away or that you’d be half-dead in a mordid den by now.”

“It was tempting. For a few minutes, I did think about running. But I decided I’d have a better chance with you than on my own. You’re a guaranteed source of income, and that’s not such an easy thing to come by.” She turned on her heel and marched away.

Gideon tugged me, and we stumbled awkwardly behind her, not willing to let go of each other.

“How we came to be here is quite a story. But it’s a long walk to Fallstaff, so we have plenty of time to tell it.” She crooked a finger.

Jackie’s back and shoulders snapped into a rigid posture, arms pinned to his sides as if he’d been tied up in rope. His eyes budged, and his jaw worked, but no words came out of his mouth. She twisted her hand, and Jackie marched forward like a clockwork tin soldier, driven by an invisible force.

“What are you doing to him?” I asked.

“Exactly what we planned.” Brigette waggled her eyebrows mischievously. “I’m making certain he won’t be a problem.”

“He’s not our only problem.”

Brigette glanced over her shoulder, brow puckered. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“The Council of Magic is hot on our heels. They chased us here. It won’t take them long to figure out where we are and find us.”

“Then perhaps we should walk and talk a bit faster.”

Chapter 26

A Hasty Retreat from Isolas

Evie’s plea to save Gideon echoed in Brigette’s ears as the fight erupted at the basilica. Evie’s lightning crashed, shattering windows and stonework. Yes, the little goddess had asked Brigette to be their backup plan in the event of Taviano’s betrayal, but Evie hadn’t truly understood what she was requesting. The amount of pain Brigette would have to suffer to break through those wards would be unbearable, and she was not the self-sacrificing type.

While the battle raged, Brigette waited on the beach, debating her next step. She’d considered stealing the boat and sailing back to Isolas, finding a mordid den, and drowning her doubts in smoke. Any guilt she might have suffered at abandoning Evie would be silenced easily enough. But as she took her first step toward the boat, the battle fell silent. The skies cleared. A wisp of powerful magic washed across her skin and disappeared like a breeze pulled out to sea. The Magic had felt unfamiliar, neither hers nor Taviano’s. Not Faercourt’s either, if she had to guess. Its flavor was too wild and strange for a Magician with formal training.

Curiosity sent Brigette racing back to the basilica. She gritted her teeth and called on her Magic. It snatched her up and deposited her on the staircase leading to the front doors, which appeared to have been charred to smoky black smithereens.

Good job, Evie. Not so helpless after all, were you?

Brigette strode through the doorway and stumbled upon a scene of great destruction—a hallway littered with bodies, rubble, and broken glass. The tang of powerful Magic burnt her nose—Taviano’s and Faercourt’s, most likely, but none of the wild Magic she’d scented on the beach. She hurried over to a familiar figure lying crumpled and still on the floor. Taviano’s hair was unmistakable, even when stained with blood. However, he was neither burned nor charred, as he would have been if he’d suffered Evie’s lightning strike. Instead, it looked as though a bit of flying debris had knocked him out. Brigette doubted he was dead, which meant she had to move quickly. Reinforcements were undoubtedly on the way.

She searched the hallway, spotted Gideon, and knelt beside him. Raising her hand, she released a pulse of energy, sending it racing across the ether. If it worked the way she had planned, her Magic would trigger an alarm, warning Niffin and Malita to get moving. Then she lowered her palm to Gideon’s chest. If he was dead, they’d be out of luck. She had many talents, but bringing people back to life was not one of them. She released a second, smaller pulse—a jolt to wake him from unconsciousness. He flinched and cried out.

“Good, you’re not dead. Evie will be so pleased.” Brigette rolled back on her heels, clutching her temples as her head throbbed.

Gideon groaned, struggled to his knees, and groaned again. “What happened?” He stumbled to his feet, eyes shut, and pressed his hands to his temples. “Where’s Evie?”

“C’mon.” Brigette fumbled a cigarette from the tin in her pocket and lit it. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

They fled from the basilica and raced along the beach, pausing when they reached the pile of gear Gideon and Evie had shed before taking their late-night swim. He bundled clothes and boots, using Evie’s Thunder Cloak as a satchel to hold everything together. Glancing at Brigette, he winced. The first inklings of dawn diluted the gloom, painting their surroundings in murky shades of grayish-purple and sickly yellow. By the way he looked at her, Brigette suspected the light had done nothing to improve her complexion.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She inhaled from her cigarette, holding the smoke deep in her lungs. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

By the time they’d found their boat and shoved off from shore, the basilica’s reinforcements had stormed the beach. The guards fired, and bullets pinged the water. Several pierced the boat’s hull before she could raise another Magical shield.

“Come on, come on,” she grumbled. “Get us out of here.”

Gideon fiddled with the boat’s controls. “I’m working on it. It takes time for the pressure to build.”