It was terrible. A bunch of fanatics calling themselves Ikhlas al-Din were killing jokers in Cairowomen and children as well as men. Fortune stared at the horrific images on the screen. He couldn't believe that no one was protecting these people. That the authorities were allowing this to happen. Something had to be done.
Someone . . . someone had to do something.
He turned off the television, unable to watch any more. The words Lohengrin had spoken before they'd burned down his mother's house came back to him. "You must find your destiny," the German had said. "If God has need of you, and this is the path your honor demands, you must go." John got up out of the chair and paced around the room. He didn't know if God needed him, but there was sure as hell a bunch of poor devils in Egypt who did.
The doorbell rang and Fortune called out, "Yeah?"
The door opened. It was his food. A smiling bellboy wheeled it in with a flourish.
"Thanks," Fortune muttered. He signed for it, and when the bellboy noticed the size of the tip he smiled even further.
"Thank you, sir."
Fortune didn't even notice that he left. He took the cover off the dish on the cart. The steak sandwiches and fries looked great and smelled even better, but suddenly his appetite had disappeared. He wanted to do something, but all he could do was pace.
He thought of Kate. How he had spoken about wanting to make a difference. He did. He did want to help people. What he went through to try to regain his ace . . .
And now. Here was another opportunity.
Most people never got one in their entire lives. So far, he'd had two.
He could take it, or he could go back to being Captain Cruller for the rest of his life.
He flopped down into the comfy chair. He had to think. Kate . . .
His heart's desire?
When he closed his eyes, exhaustion took him. Fortune fell asleep.
He woke in the shower.
He didn't remember getting into bed, sleeping, getting out of bed, undressing, and going into the bathroom. That bothered him.
But then a lot of things had been bothering him lately, and he still felt enough residual weariness to suspect that he hadn't slept well at all. Given the events of the last couple of days, that was hardly surprising.
He felt for Isra's presence in his mind, and found her, silent, curled up like a kitten in a dark corner. He still wasn't sure what to think of her, of what her presence in his life offered him, for good and bad. He pondered as he washed his hair, soap-slick fingers slipping over the amulet that weighed like a stone against his forehead. He was getting into deep waters. Maybe deep enough to close over his head and drown him. John had no illusions about himself. He liked to think that he was reasonably bright, but he knew he was terribly inexperienced in the ways of the world. He had been sheltered and protected all his life, and he suspected that, by nature, he was a little more trustingall right, naivethan most. He pondered this as he dried himself off, and went back into the bedroom to dress in his borrowed clothing.
But if he could believe in Isra, if he could trust her, she offered him the type of life that he had once tasted, and lost. Not that he regretted the loss of his ace. Not much, anyway. He could have done good with it, but clearly it was out of control. Whether his ace had been inherently unstable or something in Fortune himself had been lackingtraining, focus, willpowerhe knew that his father had sacrificed his life to save him, and perhaps save the entire world as well.
But that stage of his life was over. Isra was offering him entry onto a new stage. If he could believe her. If he could trust her.
The phone rang. He had a sudden premonition.
"John?"
"Hello, Mom." He didn't ask her how she'd managed to track him down. Peregrine had her ways. And her detectives. "Sorry, I meant to call you last nightI mean, last morning, but I guess I fell asleep."
"Thank God you're all right." Peregrine sounded relieved. That was good. "You are all right?"
"Sure, Mom."
"That's good." Solicitous. "Now I won't feel so bad about killing you." Not so solicitous.
"Uh"
"Do you know how worried I've been?"
"Yeah, uh"
"Do you know that you and your idiotic friends burned my house down?"
"Yeah, uh, I'm really sorry"
"My Emmys melted!"
"Mom," Fortune said quickly, "I'm, really, really sorry about that. But it couldn't be helped. It was the lion. She breathes fire, and Lohengrin frightened her"
"The lion." Ice cold. This was not good. "I see. I hear, also, that that amulet, that thing, is in your head. I should have thrown it away years ago!"
"Mom." He took a deep breath. Suddenly it all seemed very clear to him. "Really, this is a great opportunity."
"You have a thing in your head."
"You don't have to tell me that."
"How can you be sure that it's not controlling your brain?"
"What, Isra?"
"If that is its name."
"Isra's not an 'it.' She's a woman. An Egyptian woman. And I'd know."
"How?"
"I'd know," Fortune repeated firmly. "It's not as if we don't have discussions with each other. Arguments, even. It's not like she's turned me into some kind of robot or something."
"John" Peregrine said, anguish in her voice.
"Listen, Mom, I'm not a kid anymore. I'm grown up. You can't treat me like a kid, surround me with bodyguards, watch over me twenty-four hours a day." Again, Lohengrin's words came unbidden into his mind. "I've got to find my own destiny."
"It's not your destiny, John. It's what that creature in your head wants."
"That's not true."
"How do you know? How can you know that?"
"Because," Fortune said quietly. "I wanted it, too, before I put the amulet on. I've always wanted it. I don't want to work on TV shows, fetching donuts, doing errands. I want to be someone who can do important things. Who can make a difference in the world. Like my father. Like you. You were my age when you fought the Astronomer."
"That was different."
"How?" Fortune asked.
"I was in control. I knew what I was doing. Youyou're younger than I was. And maybe that's my fault. Maybe I did protect you too much. Sheltered you. But you're my son. I couldn't stand by and let something awful happen to you. And this . . . this Isra. We just don't know what it's doing to you. Can't you see that? We have to at least get it checked out. I can be there by seven in the morning. I've messengered a credit card and some ID. Just stay put until I get there. We'll charter a plane and have you at the Jokertown Clinic before we know it. Dr. Finn will be able to help. I know he will."
Suddenly all of Fortune's certainty was gone. He couldn't forget the fear he'd felt when the amulet had burrowed into his body. The feeling of someone else locking him up in his own head, controlling him. It was creepy, and it was frightening.
And Isra would be with him, always. For the rest of my life.
"I don't know," he said hollowly.
"I do," Peregrine said. "Sit tight. I'll be with you before you know it. You're my son, and I love you."
"All right," John Fortune he said. "I'll wait."
It was an interminable wait.
The messenger showed up not too long after Fortune hung up the phone with a package containing fresh clothing, a black Amex card, and a wad of cash. It would be hours before Peregrine could make it up from Hollywood.
Suddenly John couldn't stand to be confined to the room any longer. He had to get out and do something. Anything.
He wandered down to the casino. There were no clocks there, no night and day. Just color, action, lights, and noise, mindless and buzzing. He got a cup of quarters, fed some into a slot machine and pulled the handle. He watched the wheels buzz around. He got an ankh, a sphinx, a bar, a mummy. He fed in more quarters.
Is this what you want?> Isra asked him.
Fortune dug out more quarters from his plastic cup, fed them into the slot, and pulled the handle. "I've been wondering where you were."