Doyle’s mustache twitches at Blanck. “Well? Is there?”
Blanck scowls. “Yes, of course there is a safe. I am not opening it in front of—” His eyes scan the crowd. “Anyone else. And definitelynoton the recommendation of some illusionist scam artist.”
It’s difficult to do, lie calmly, after this evening’s wild twists and turns. I am afraid my terror will betray me. “Spirit says check the safe.”
Doyle twists his mustache again. “Check the safe…,” he mutters.
CRASH!
It’s the sound of an explosion.
I crouch, my heart thundering against my rib cage.
The massive bar cabinet topples against the marble floor of the foyer, and Blanck dives out of the way. Shards of glass fly like shrapnel. More screams from guests; they duck and cover their heads. The sharp pinch of alcohol fills the air. Bottles and glasses roll about. One decanter spins and spins and comes at last to rest.
The crowd’s already-wrought nerves jangle. The scent of urine wafts about, and I realize someone has pissed their unders. I peek out from under my crossed arms to where the furniture toppled. I am so shaken, my teeth chatter.
And there, in the empty space where the bar cabinet once stood, is Nirav. Oh, thank God he is safe! In my eyesight, the entire room darkens, and small, silent Nirav stands seething with anger, as obvious as if he had a Broadway spotlight on him.
THE MAGICIAN
THE 1ST MAJOR ARCANA CARD
This is a complex card: A young person donned in robes and an ouroboros belt lifts a wand aloft; an infinity symbol floats overhead. The figure stands behind a table adorned with a cup, a sword, a staff, and a shield. Roses and lilies dot the hedge.
Upright: potential, resourcefulness, willpower, tapping into one’s talents
Reversed: manipulation, greed, cunning, trickery, illusion, deception
The magician represents a misdirection of attention, a sleight of hand,look this way. It’s what Nirav is doing now, distracting the audience from what would be the main show.
Oh, but he is a clever child.
Nirav is wiry, but these past few weeks with friends who feed him regularly have made him strong. Strong enough to topple a six-foot piece of furniture laden with crystal bottles of all shapes and sizes.
Nirav remembers the number one rule they discussed atthe Bureau—“We must not appear to know one another”—so he consciously does not look in his dear Stella’s direction, even as he hears her mutter, “What thehellis going on?” He stands and seethes under the gaze of wolves. (He does not know how often the other merry bandits have broken this rule this evening. Nirav is a rule-follower; he will not stray from what he’s been told.)
He balls his fists. He lifts his chin, and he looks Blanck in the eye. He is the very picture of defiance.
He is green with overwhelm, though. Blanck’s dark energy is everywhere in this apartment. Even the very floors Nirav walks with bare feet ooze with greed and rage, and Nirav can’t help but to absorb it. All of it.
Blanck’s guests are rattled to their cores from the events of this evening. Bullets and infernos and crashing bar bottles. They clutch their hearts, droop into chairs, grind their teeth. Their fear and ire are currently directed at Nirav. They are practically growling.
They need a scapegoat. They seek revenge. And Nirav absorbs all their awful energy.
CHAPTER FORTY
Our evening has gone from horribly wrong to even worse. Nirav was supposed to stay hidden. If he’s here, making himself seen,veryseen, something else has gone wrong.
Pax slides from the parlor into view. He’s not supposed to be here, now… his part in the parlor should’ve been completed long ago. Even though I’m still hurt by his actions, my heart reaches toward him. It doesn’t find him; there is no purchase, as though I’m sliding down a muddy hill. Can I only connect to him when my Team of Light is near? It is what draws his eye to me.
I have a moment of extreme clarity:
This is it.
This is the moment captured in Nirav’s painting.
Me, Nirav, Pax, Blanck…
