Page 75 of Hawk & Sparrow

Vesper felt it then, an intangible shift in the air as the collective anxiety filling the street became something else, directed squarely at the two well-dressed gentlemen. Several of the men turned and began to close in around them. The bald man’s eyes darted around, now wary.

“Enough of this!” he snapped. “Tell your thugs to stand down at once.”

“Thugs.” Cliff Owen laughed, but it was a dry, humorless sound. “Of course that’s what you call us. It’s far easier to vilify and slander honest working-class men than to take any responsibility for your actions. You people did it to Jon Riggs last week, and you’ll do it now. You can’t be trusted.”

Vesper blinked, momentarily confused. Jon Riggs was the man who’d been arrested for shooting Charles Belver at the Main Street Farmer’s Market. What did he have to do with this?

The crackle of the fire pulled her gaze back toward the building. The firefighters were gathered around its main door, preparing to breach, but the flames looked worse than ever. Vesper looked to the men surrounding Cliff and the two gentlemen. Many of their eyes had hardened and they were looking at the two men with the same open disgust. Both of the gentlemen seemed to realize this. They began backing toward their coach.

“I’m warning you!” The shorter one pointed his walking stick. “You people stay back!”

“Or what?” one of the men shouted.

“Cliff.” For the first time, Vesper spoke up. She had a distinct and growing sense of unease. The shorter gentleman closed his eyes and his lips began to move. Something clicked together in her mind.

“Cliff, watch out—”

The words came too late. Vesper watched it all play out as the world around her slowed. The man’s grip on his walking stick tightened. With his free hand, he made a motion as though swatting a fly. The man standing nearest to him suddenly lurched back several feet, as though he’d been shoved hard, then fell to the ground. He did not get up again.

“Sorcerer scum!” one of the men roared. “He didn’t even touch you!”

More people were shouting now, and the men pressed in. The bald sorcerer tried to use his walking stick again, but a man standing behind him shoved him hard in the back, so that he lost his balance. Another ripped the stick out of his hand and struck his head with it. A raucous cheer went up from the crowd as he crumpled to the ground. In the distance, Vesper heard the shrill whistle of a police officer. Cliff was now getting on top of a crate, addressing the growing crowd.

“You see this, boys!” he said in a voice that carried. “These rich folk don’t care about us!” He pointed behind him. “They’d lock us in a burning building if it meant they could still turn a profit. Well, I say, you hit at one of us, you hit at all of us, and now we’re hitting back!”

Several in the crowd cheered, but Vesper’s eyes went to the building. The front door had been breached. Firefighters were coming out holding victims. Several were burned beyond recognition. Goose bumps stippled her arms.

Another whistle sounded, louder and closer this time, and she swiveled. A line of uniformed police officers were now making their way down the street, batons in hand. There were at least twenty of them, but the crowd filling up Pierce Street had also swelled in size. There had to be at least a hundred people there.

“An injury to one is an injury to all!” Cliff shouted. “Stand your ground, boys!”

Vesper watched as police and the laborers collided, and then the street broke out in chaos. Men were being struck down by police batons, and women snatched up children and ran for alleys. Someone knocked into her shoulder, throwing her off-balance, and Vesper fell to the ground hard at the same time the front wall of the burning building caved in. There was a loud boom, a wave of heat, and Vesper went still as bright orange embers danced high into the air.

Around her, people were still screaming. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. In the distance, thunder clapped, but Vesper didn’t trust her mind anymore. It wasn’t November. It was January seventeenth. She was standing outside her family’s tenement building, watching with horror as it burned with people still inside.

You left us. Ethel’s imaginary voice was cold, accusing. You left us to die.

Rain was pouring down now, but the flames continued to devour the building, just as they had all those years ago. Something wet slicked her cheeks, and she no longer knew if it was rain, or tears, or both. She tried to get up, but her skirt was tangled in her legs. Someone grabbed her wrist, and she opened her mouth to scream, then stopped. Maximilian was standing over her, his profile traced in the fire’s light. He lifted her to her feet. She couldn’t find words. Her mind was still a jumbled mess, but a single clear thought permeated the darkness.

“Evans!” he shouted. “We’ve got to go, this is bad.”

“We can’t!” Vesper pointed at the building. “There are people trapped in that building!”

Maximilian looked in the direction she indicated, and she watched the color drain from his face. He closed his eyes a beat, then nodded, as though he’d come to a decision. He approached the firefighter nearest to him and tapped his shoulder.

“Are your men able to put this out?”

The firefighter shook his head.

“Where’s the nearest hydrant?”

The firefighter pointed to a red hydrant a few feet away. Maximilian nodded. “Unhook your lines and let the water run, I’m going to try something.”

The firefighter looked confused, but ran over to the hydrant and removed the large hose that’d been attached to it. At once, a small geyser of water spouted from its side outlet. Maximilian turned to Vesper.

“Stand back,” he said to her.

Vesper took several steps back as Maximilian moved closer to the burning building. She watched as he closed his eyes and his lips began to move. Slowly, he stretched his arms, then flexed his hands. As first, Vesper didn’t understand, but then she saw it: An invisible force seemed to be directing the water from the hydrant in another direction. She looked back at Maximilian and watched as he lifted his hands higher. Suddenly, he pitched his body forward, and a wave of water crashed against the side of the building. Some of the flames were doused, but his arms raised again almost immediately, throwing another wave against the building.