But she couldn’t deny it: Damn, he explained it well.
It hit better than anything she’d read. Suddenly, it seemed clear.
She couldn’t praise him for it, however. “All right, then. Whatdoesfill it?”
“Emotions. And the stronger you feel them, the better.”
“That can’t be true,” she insisted. “Every book says it’s clarity of mind.”
“Yeah, honestly, I think most of them just wish that was the case.”
She shot him a skeptical look. “Why would they wish a thing like that?”
“Because they were written by old, stuffy, rich white men.”
“Careful, Harker. Now who’s the one questioning things?”
He sighed for that. And he didn’t just gesture, when he started speaking again. He paced. “That wasn’t questioning, it’s just the truth.Barrett’s Guide, The Complete History, A Secret Etymology—they were all written by the sort of humans who would vastly prefer everything run on reason, and rationality, and clean, cool logic. But it just doesn’t. You already know it doesn’t. You’ve met chaos in the flesh. You’ve accepted that chaos runs the Underneath. You’ve felt the chaos here, seething under the surface of the brick and mortar and wood they’ve tried to contain it within. What else could it be but purest feeling?” he asked, by the end so almost passionate about it that she had to believe him. This was something he meant. Something he felt deeply, in a way that most likely had nothing to do with her.
This place made him angry, too, quite clearly.
He just played the game of it, for his own ends.
Though he tried to cover that up a little, once the words were out and ringing in the air. He took out that silver case again and drew out one of those cigarettes. Lit it, in that same casual, “I don’t care” way he had the other day. But of course, even that said something now.
It helps him stay cool, she thought.
And filed that information away for later. “So I just need to... be joyful,” she said, as if she’d never clocked any of this at all.
“You need to strongly feel whatever best connects you to magic.”
“But how do I know what does? How can I possibly discover that?”
“The same way you would anything else. Learn. Try. Test it out.”
He waved the hand holding the cigarette, and she got a wave of that scent.
Familiar somehow. Though she shook it off.
“I can’t just test out different emotions,” she said.
Much to his scorn. His eyes practically rolled out of his head. “Of course you can. Think of whatever sparked it when I had you on that stone table. Loathing, most likely. Think of something that you loathe.”
“You. Looking at me with that smug face. While probably tricking me.”
“Iamtricking you. And then I’m going to laugh when you fall flat on your face. In fact, all of us will; we’ll stand around you in a circle, jeering and crowing. And nothing will stop us, not even when you cry. That might even make us wor—” he said, all of it so suddenly awful it caught her off guard. The words just built and built, each one better designed than the last to strike at her heart, until she broke.
She cut him off, before he could say another word.
“Stop it, you horrible beast,” she spat.
But of course, as soon as she had, she knew.
It was there, in the way his expression immediately dropped from vicious to completely neutral. He hadn’t been serious at all. He had just been trying to goad her into fury—and it had worked. She could still feel her heart pounding in her throat. Her face was burning.
And it burned hotter when he spoke.
“And? Anything happen for that?” he asked, casual as you like.
