“We have to go after Gideon,” I said, and felt Leon’s hand grip mine.
Tink’s wide eyes got even wider. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Me neither,” I said. I stared down the other end of the alley, where Gideon had vanished. “But it’s the only idea we’ve got.”
“How are you going to find him?” Tink asked.
“I know where he’ll go,” I said, realizing the moment I spoke it that I did. I could feel it, in that quiet almost-sense that connected me to the Circle. As I looked down the alley, I could see the faintest rim of light shining in the gloom, a thread trailing off into the distance. He was going to Harlow Tower. To the center of the Circle, where it had all begun. The place where Verrick had died, and Gideon had been born.
While Tink and Mr. Alvarez returned to the other Guardians to regroup and begin a sweep of the streets, Leon and I walked back to his motorcycle. My feet were still bare, one heel bleeding from where a sharp piece of gravel had dug into it, but I ignored the pain and the cold of the asphalt—at least until Leon located my sandals. Tink chased after us, grabbing my elbow before I could hop onto the motorcycle.
“I’d better see you again,” she said, giving me a wobbly smile.
I did my best to smile back. “Ditto.”
“If you find Gideon…” She paused. It took her a moment to form the words. I could see her struggle with them, the way she swallowed thickly, then lifted one trembling hand and held it over her mouth; I could see the shine of tears gathering in her eyes. She turned away from me, letting her arms fall back to her sides. “Just tell him thanks,” she whispered.
The roads we passed through were deserted, though as we drove I thought I saw the blur of Harrowers creeping out along some of the streets: the slide of silver on gray, and here and there the hint of crimson. There were more dead birds on the pavement, the brown of sparrows and the blue-black of crows turning white with frost. The Beneath was steadily tightening its grip on the city. On Nicollet Mall, the trees were gnarled and twisted, almost skeletal. Their branches bent toward the earth, twigs curling like claws, and their leaves were mottled with decay. Debris was scattered everywhere. Rust crept across parked cars, and up and down several buildings, bricks were bleached the color of bone. The hiss of the Beneath followed us down every road.
There was more fighting the block before Harlow Tower. Leon brought us to a sudden halt, parking up on the sidewalk close to one of the buildings. He got off the motorcycle, then stood for a moment looking out into the street ahead of us. In the sky above, the gold glittering letters of HARLOW TOWER dimmed into gray. The stench of rot was much stronger here, suffocating almost, and everywhere shadows lay like pools of blood that spread, oozing, underfoot. I moved up beside Leon, and my heart missed a beat when I recognized my mother among the Guardians.
They were clustered in the middle of the road, where the stoplights had gone dark, the poles tilting as though they’d begun to melt, and all the bus stops and benches were flaking into ash. There were only five or six Guardians, and the demons seemed innumerable—there had to be dozens at least. The demons came sliding out from between buildings and along the red shadows. Some appeared to climb straight up from the earth itself, their talons clicking against the street as they ran.
Shots rang out, and I realized that a figure crouched near the entrance to a building wasn’t a Guardian or a Harrower, but Mickey. He had his sidearm out, keeping distance between himself and the center of combat as he carefully chose his shots. He didn’t fire at the Harrowers fighting the Guardians, just those on the outskirts, creeping in. Guns had limited effectiveness against demons—but the Guardians needed all the help they could get. Mickey managed to slow down the advance of one or two, and a Guardian I recognized as Camille hurried to finish the demons off.
Close to her, Elspeth and Iris were fighting side by side, taking on a demon together. Soft lights flared at Elspeth’s fingertips, her short hair flying out around her as she moved. Iris appeared to be amplifying, holding back just slightly and then rushing in for the kill. The demon fell before them, and they turned to face each other. The other Guardians were giving them a wide berth, which told me they might have accepted Iris’s presence for the time being, but only as a matter of necessity.
Mom was fighting Shane.
Even with her powers diminished, she was a force unparalleled. Other Harrowers raced toward her, but she killed them quickly, barely even slowing her advance. A quick catch of the throat, a flick of the wrist, and they slid downward, gurgling as they dissolved into the Beneath. Her target was Shane, who had begun to shed his human disguise. Scales showed through the skin of his neck and face, and the familiar green of his eyes was now nothing but blank white.
Both of Mom’s arms flashed toward him, but he jerked free, rasping with laughter. He retreated, but not for long. While the Guardians were steadily weakening, the Beneath was growing stronger. Mom struck at Shane again and again. The third time, he didn’t evade her blow. He grabbed her arm instead, then lifted her into the air and hurled her at Mickey, sending them both crashing to the ground.
As Mom and Mickey began to untangle themselves, Shane turned and stalked toward Iris and Elspeth.
“I see you, interloper,” he said, his voice low and icy. “Traveler between two worlds. Traitor to both. Wanted by neither.”
Iris froze, facing him. I saw her hands clench. Elspeth was still busy fighting the Harrower beside them, but Iris stood staring as Shane inched closer.
“I hear your blood, turncoat. It calls to be loosed from your veins. It craves that sweet singing release. Let it free from the foulness of your flesh. Let both worlds drink.”
He lifted his hand. A sizzle of light pooled within his fingers, a swell of energy brightening against his palm. It illuminated the silver in his skin, the ripple of scales along his arms, though he hadn’t yet turned his hands to talons. He bared his teeth and then sent the blast of energy hurtling toward Iris.
Elspeth screamed, turning. She thrust the Harrower in her grip away and leaped in front of her sister.
But in the same instant, Iris caught Elspeth’s arms, swiveling, twisting about to shield her. The blast caught Iris, throwing both her and Elspeth onto the road.
Mom was on her feet again, running. Shane had more energy building in his hand, but she threw herself toward him, knocking him to the ground. He rolled away, jumped up, and withdrew a few steps. Mom followed, pushing him back. Whatever she’d lost in power, she was making up for in fury. Her hair had come loose from its bun, haloing about her as she struck. Her fingers latched onto his throat. He staggered, sliding out of her grip, but she caught him again. The second time he broke free, he retreated farther, snarling something between his teeth before disappearing from sight. This time, Mom didn’t chase him. She’d seen me. She raced back down the street toward us.
The remaining Harrowers had vanished. I searched, but no more bodies snaked across the street toward us. No more hisses sounded. No more talons clicked. Nearby, Camille was sitting in the road, a dazed expression on her face; another Guardian rested beside her.
Elspeth was clutching her sister and weeping.
“I’m not dead,” Iris said, trying to push her away. “I’m fine. Get off me.”
She was injured, though, and badly. The back of her shirt had burned away, and blood was oozing thickly from one shoulder, where the skin was painfully scorched. Some of her hair had been singed away, so that it was wispy and uneven. The side of her neck had a jagged cut, climbing up toward her jaw.
“You can’t die,” Elspeth kept sobbing.
Iris was looking at me, her gold eyes narrowed and accusing. “That’s up to Audrey.”
I felt a snarl build in my throat, and struggled to contain it. “You’re the reason all of this is happening in the first place.”