Chapter 45
“He’s not coming.” I turned in a slow circle, taking in the orange light glinting off the sandstone buildings surrounding Rockefeller Plaza. The morning had brought a bright red sunrise and a ball of fire, and now, the early evening was drenched in an orange glow.
I wiped the back of my arm across my forehead. I was covered in sweat from zigzagging the city for hours, unraveling illusion. I was sore, tired, exhausted, and starving.
After breakfast, Luvic was turned off food, even though he looked longingly at every deli we passed. He wanted a pastrami sandwich in the worst way, but he doggedly passed deli, bodega, and butcher, ignoring the draw. We didn’t stop for food. Instead, we worked.
Rockefeller Plaza was rimmed with leafy trees and United Nations flags fluttering weakly in the evening wind.
The sun would set soon, and then my day with the Bards would be done—but until then, my blood was sizzling and burning.
It was an unrelenting call, urging me to tear out the knots holding the buildings upright.
Which building? There were plenty to choose from.
Rockefeller Center was actually the area between 48th and 51st Street in Midtown.
There were nineteen buildings, and the first fourteen had all been built during the Great Depression, in Art Deco style.
In the center of the plaza was a sunken square and a private street—Rockefeller Plaza.
There were tons of people streaming past. There was a lot of shopping here. Studios and media too, of course. And the observation deck.
I closed my eyes, squeezing them tight.
“Mari?”
I shook my head and took a deep breath. The urge to tug at the knots was overwhelming. Jagger had commanded I do what the families asked, and the Bard had asked me to tear down Rockefeller. We were here. The day was almost done. I needed to do what I’d been asked before time ran out.
I started to shake as if the atoms inside me were vibrating, two wills fighting and colliding. I opened my eyes and scanned the sandstone building that reached the sky. I knew this building was the actual target of the Bard’s displeasure.
The statue of Prometheus was nearby, tethered to earth, surrounded by water, ensnared by the heavens. Everyone believed he was a hero for bringing mankind fire, but what they never realized was that he was a Smith, and fire was meant to be their destruction.
Luvic whistled, letting out a string of curses when he saw my expression. “You’re scary when you go full evil, Mari. You know that?”
I clenched my hand, digging my nails into my palm.
He stepped closer. “How long do we have?”
I shook my head. “Minutes.” I winced at a flood of pain and desire. “Maybe.”
I hadn’t resisted the Clarks, and I hadn’t resisted untying any of the Bards’ traps. This . . . resisting hurt.
Maybe that was the way it was for Luvic too. When I’d asked if he could just keep us away from Rockefeller Center, he’d claimed he couldn’t do that.
Why? He wouldn’t say.
“What can you do to stop it?” I’d asked.
He’d given me a flat stare. “We’ll find out.”
Luvic twisted his hand, and the building’s fire alarm blared. He twisted again, and people began to pour out of the exits, their clothing drenched. Ah. He’d set off the sprinklers.
“They’re not coming fast enough,” I said, gritting my teeth against the urge to yank the knots free and bury the plaza in stone.
Some of the people hurried, but most wandered out of the building looking bored or confused. That was the problem. There were so many false fire alarms people never believed them when they were real. It made them complacent.
“Move faster,” Luvic said, twisting his hand again. Windows shattered, and people screamed.
I floated outside of myself, searching the illusion of the building.
It was cleverly constructed. Whoever had built Rockefeller Center had used illusion to enhance its natural characteristics, making it more appealing, more beautiful, more influential.
Come to think of it, the buildings were a lot like a Bard.
No wonder Dagrid was angry. If the media here had smeared Celia, it would’ve been like your own child turning on you. Unacceptable.
I stared at the flashing alarm lights and the people pouring out. They looked like water rushing from a fountain. The Greek variety, where a man’s mouth was open and water poured free.
I could tug just one knot. Just one. It wouldn’t hurt. Not exactly. It might actually feel good. I’d have a bit of relief. Like finally scratching that space between your shoulder blades that you can’t ever reach. I found a lark’s head knot and tugged at the ends so they flapped like wings.
I smiled, loosening, unraveling.
It felt good tugging at that thread.
Mari!
I blinked. I swore I’d heard Finn. I glanced around. He wasn’t there. Instead, there were sirens growing closer. The press of bodies and heat. Luvic snarling something at me. I shook my head.
“What?”
“Give me two minutes.” Luvic twisted his hand again. Conjured flames shot out of the shattered windows. “It’s illusion,” he said under his breath. “Just . . . where is that blasted Ward?”
Earlier, he’d sent out a message for Jacob, putting a news story out that he was sure to understand. I didn’t think it would work. I didn’t think Jacob paid attention to the news. That was why I’d been tugging on the rope that connected us all day long.
Three short tugs. Three long tugs. Three short tugs again.
SOS.
Had he felt it?
I realized, with a shock, I hadn’t stopped with the one lark’s head knot.
Unconsciously, I’d been rapidly tugging knots free from the base of the tower, a pleasurable hum growing with each knot I pulled.
It was as if untying one knot had opened the gate for untying them all.
A quarter of the illusion had already disintegrated.
The structure was weakening, and the tower swayed when a strong gust of wind roared through the plaza.
Luvic swore. This time, his words were more explicit then I’d ever heard.
The fire trucks were here. The emergency workers were shoving people back.
Was everyone out?
My teeth were clenched so tightly my cheeks had gone numb. My nails dug into my palm. It hurt as I resisted sliding another knot free.
“Luvic?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Almost done. Just . . . hang on. All right?”
He glanced at me, his eyes widened, then he quickly turned back to the building.
There wasn’t any hanging on. I was on the edge of a cliff, digging into loose soil with broken nails. I was about to fall.
I was going to bring down Rockefeller, and both Luvic and I knew it.
There were still so many people here. Maybe most of them had evacuated the building, but there were still so many people in the plaza.
A small, broken noise leaked from my throat.
Luvic reached over and gripped my hand. “Don’t worry, Mari. I’m not going to let—”
“Hullo. What’re we doing?”
I jerked and looked over at the man who’d spoken in a cheerful baritone.
He smiled, and dimples formed in both his cheeks.
He was slight, average height for a man, and his blond hair was wind-rumpled.
He wore a wrinkled T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers and held two hot dogs in wax paper.
They were piled high with relish, onions, ketchup, and mustard.
He grinned at me, and I sagged with relief.
Thank goodness.
He’d come.
Jacob had felt my tugs, and he’d come.
He looked around at the chaos of Rockefeller Plaza, shrugged, and then took a big bite of his hot dog, leaving a smear of mustard at the corner of his mouth.
Luvic stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Did you stop for hot dogs?”
Jacob raised his eyebrows. “Why? Do you want one?” He held out the second hot dog to Luvic.
Luvic snarled and jabbed his finger at the conjured flames shooting from the building. “We’re wreaking havoc. Murder and mayhem. Try and stop us.”
Jacob took another bite of his hot dog and chewed thoughtfully. “If you’re that desperate for attention, you could just call. Some people say I’m a good listener.” A gust of wind fluffed Jacob’s hair, and he looked up at the sky in exasperation. “I said some.”
“Ward!” Luvic gritted his teeth. “Don’t make me—”
Jacob’s expression shifted. I don’t know how to describe it, except to say that one second, he looked like a harmless college-aged guy enjoying a hot dog, and the next, he looked like a terrifying man who knew all your nightmares and didn’t mind feeding them to you. For eternity.
“Don’t make you what?” he asked, his voice low.
“In about thirty seconds,” I said, interrupting Luvic’s jackaltooth growl, “I’m going to collapse that building.”
I pointed to the trickle of people still tripping through the exits.
Jacob shifted his attention from Luvic to me. He turned back into the harmless, friendly twenty-something. “Are you?”
He took a final bite of his hot dog—he’d devoured it in seconds—and then wiped the mustard from his lips.
I nodded. “I am.”
He sighed and handed Luvic the remaining hot dog. “All right. Do it.”
Luvic looked in disgust at the relish-covered dog. “Ward! Don’t you understand what’s happening? You’re supposed to stop us!”
“I don’t feel like it.” Jacob shrugged, and then, looking at me, the corner of his mouth lifted into an almost-smile. He tapped at the space in my chest where I’d locked all my good. It was shut tight, defending against the rush of pain and pleasure racing through me. He nodded. “Got it.”
Luvic twisted his hand, throwing a cloak of illusion around us. Then he snarled and threw a water spear at Jacob.
Jacob didn’t even blink. He just smiled as a gust of wind hit the spear. It veered past, missing him by inches.
Luvic conjured a wall of ice knives. They flew at Jacob and hit a solid wall of air.
“Bard,” Jacob said. “Enough.”
Luvic conjured again, throwing a whirlpool.
Jacob tilted his head, and suddenly, we were surrounded by darkness.
Luvic dropped to his knees and clutched his head.
The hot dog fell to the ground, splattering relish and mustard on the sidewalk.
Luvic shuddered and made a pained, choking noise.
It was just like at Hell Gate. A scream caught in Luvic’s throat.
I stared at Jacob.
He smiled happily. “All right?”
I nodded. “Sure. What are you doing to him?”
“You can pull it down now,” he said, nodding to the building.
There weren’t many knots left—only enough to keep the building upright. I only had to yank one free, and the entire thing would collapse. The knot pulsed in my mind’s eye. The need to untie it was so demanding I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. The compulsion consumed me.
“I don’t want to,” I whispered.
“I know. But as soon as you do, we can go.”
“Is everyone safe?” I couldn’t hold off much longer.
He peered at the building, his eyes narrowed, the wind tugging at his shirt. His brow wrinkled, and he tapped his right hand against his thigh, counting the seconds. “Almost.” He bit his lower lip. “Yes. All right. Now.”
Now.
I ripped the knots free. The roar was deafening.
The fall of thousands of tons of concrete and glass was like standing in the center of a hurricane.
Jacob threw out his arms and covered the plaza in a strange, sticky, unreal feeling.
It almost felt as if time and space were bending and streaming through his fingers, warping around his will.
The building fell, but somehow, Jacob made it fall like feathers instead of stones.
He held the destruction inside his hands and kept it from spreading.
Every person standing near, every surrounding structure—even the eighteen-foot-tall bronze Prometheus—was spared.
He set down the rubble gently, and then, with a hard, violent snap, time and space sped up again.
There were screams. Sirens. Heat and flame. Choking clouds of dust and smoke. The too-familiar smell of burning metal and stone.
I looked at the broken majesty of Rockefeller Plaza. I stared at the destruction I’d caused. Luvic was still kneeling on the ground, his eyes closed, his hands covering his head, his face contorted with pain.
Jacob glanced to the east as the wind brushed past. “The Smiths are coming. We should go.”
“Where?” I brushed at my cheeks. Tears fell from the sting of dust and smoke.
Jacob smiled. “Up.”
“What about Luvic?”
“He’ll be all right.”
Then Jacob grabbed my hand, caught an invisible thread, and we were lifted into the air, flying above the scar at the heart of the city.