The Fire Chronicle (38 page)

“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 came. 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.

Then Kate screamed his name as the bell crashed down.

Bands of Imps and Screechers were charging up the slope, carrying siege ladders they’d fashioned from trees chopped down in the forest. As soon as they came into range, the elves along the battlements began pouring arrow after arrow into the creatures. The archers were terrifyingly accurate, but the moment one Imp or Screecher would fall, another would leap to take its place, and the ladder would continue forward.

Already, the air was thick with a reeking, mustardy haze as the fallen Screechers dissolved into the rocky slope.

And still there were more and more.…

And the awful shrieking rebounded off the canyon walls.

“This is stupid!” Emma cried. “We should be down there helping!”

“We’d just be in the way,” Michael said.

“And we are helping,” said the elf princess. “We are inspiring those below to fight more valiantly. Though I do wish I had a scarf to wave.”

On Gabriel’s orders, the three of them were watching the battle from the top of the decapitated tower. Of course, Wilamena had told the children, their friend had no power to order her anywhere, but she was not about to be separated from her rabbit.

Michael had spent the first few minutes atop the tower trying to assess the defenders’ chances. The fortress itself, apart from being built on a volcano, was well positioned. The slope on either side fell away sharply and was composed of a fine scree that gave no footing at all. This meant the attackers had to launch a frontal assault, which in turn meant the elves had only one wall to defend. This slight advantage was all that was keeping the fortress from being overrun. But Michael knew it couldn’t last. Rourke’s army was simply too large. So the question was, could the defenders hold out till Dr. Pym arrived? Or reinforcements came from the elf colony?

“Look!” Emma shouted.

From the slope below, something rose into the air, growing larger and larger. Michael stared, unable, perhaps unwilling, to understand what he was seeing; then the boulder smashed into the wall, sending a shudder through the fortress. Michael scanned the slope till he spotted one of Rourke’s trolls bent over and wrapping its arms around another massive stone. Already, elves were showering arrows upon the creature; but the missiles barely scratched the monster’s hide, and, moments later, a second
boulder blasted through the top of the wall, spewing rocks and debris into the courtyard.

The first siege ladders had now reached the ramparts.

Michael silently downgraded his assessment of their chances.

“We can’t just stand here!” Emma was nearly beside herself. “We have to do something!”

Michael started to say that he understood her frustration but there was nothing they could do when he saw that Wilamena had taken off her golden circlet and was waving it about and crying (for some reason), “Troo-loo-loo! Troo-loo-loo!”

“Actually,” Michael said, “I have an idea.”

Gabriel swung his falchion at a Screecher clawing its way over the wall, and the creature tumbled backward, shrieking as it fell.

The battle was an hour old and still being fought along the fortress’s front wall. The Screechers and Imps continued to hurl their ladders up, and the elves continued to push them back. Gabriel knew that as long as they could defend the wall, they had a chance. But if Rourke’s forces broke through, they would have to fall back to the keep, which, considering the dragon-sized hole in the roof, offered little safety. Gabriel glanced at the sun. Days here were short, and they had perhaps two hours till nightfall.