Page 186 of The Serpent's Curse


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“Did you feel that?”

Harte’s eyes had gone a little wide as he stepped even farther away from her. “I did. And so did Seshat.”

OUT OF TIME

1920—Chicago

Deep beneath Harte’s skin, between what he was and what he could only ever hope to become, Seshat began to shift and move, awoken by whatever terrible magic had suddenly snaked through the air and drained the Quellant from his blood. The ancient goddess swelled, pushing at the boundary between them as she recognized the threat in their midst.

Thoth.

The sound of the name came to Harte as clearly as if Seshat had been standing right next to him and whispered it directly into his ear. All at once the arena fell away and Harte saw himself standing under a star-scattered sky, and the humid heat of the room turned into the dryness of the desert stretching all around him. A second later, though, the vision was gone. Once again Harte was back in the crowded Chicago arena, standing in the middle of the sweaty, sweltering crowd with Jack Grew holding the stage above.

Jack stepped up to the podium and accepted the cheers that greeted him. He let the crowd’s applause grow and basked in their approval for a long while, before finally lifting his arms to quiet the crowd. After the arena went silent, he stepped closer to the podium and began to speak.

“Our convention occurs at a moment of crisis for our nation,” Jack said, his familiar voice echoing through the cavernous room. “The recent attacks on this fine city—on this hallowed convention—are yet more evidence of the threats to our great nation’s very way of life. There has been much talk about our party’s chosen platform, our moral obligation to place our nation before the needs of an Old World, torn by a war that was not our creation. But the threat to our well-being lies not only outside our borders. As the events of last night showed us, the threat is already within our borders. It waits within our cities and towns, and any politician who does not grasp this danger is not fit to lead.”

Much of the crowd roared again, and Jack accepted their approval, his chin tilted up to take it all in as a satisfied smile crept across his lips.

“Anything?” Esta asked.

Harte checked the watch and found nothing but the steady ticking progress of the second hand. “Not yet,” he told her.

“They should be done by now,” she murmured, echoing his own thoughts.

“We can’t worry about that right now,” Harte told her. If North and his look-alike son had abandoned them, it was too late to worry about it. If they were in trouble? “We need the Book. That’s what we’re here for.”

Seshat chose that moment to lurch, and Harte couldn’t stop himself from grimacing at the feel of her power beginning to grow.

“Seshat?” Esta asked, frowning.

He nodded.

Jack had started to speak again, his voice clear and his words painfully direct. “Those with feral magic are a blight on our great land. A disease that threatens the very fiber of our nation. For too long they have freely roamed our streets, threatening peaceful citizens. And now the opposition party would have us prostrate ourselves to foreign powers? The Democrats would have us join a so-called League of Nations and open our coffers to rebuild other lands, with no regard for the impact on public safety or the resources of our own great nation. Those are resources meant for the protection of our own people. Those are resources that should be used to fight the threat that already exists among us.

“Lenroot does not understand this threat. Allen does not understand this threat, and Coolidge certainly does not understand it. None of the other men who would ask for your vote understand the true danger. None have worked tirelessly to address the feral power that would have us kneel before it, that would destroy our very way of life… But I have.”

As Jack droned on about his many accomplishments, it was clear where the other candidates’ supporters were. The delegates from states that had not yet decided to throw their support behind Jack’s candidacy sat quietly listening, barely clapping even at his more vociferous points, but the longer he spoke, the more delegates there were that began applauding.

“We all know the tragedy that befell this very convention hours ago,” Jack said, his voice going low and sorrowful. “We have seen too many times the death and destruction that illegal power can generate. Too often, innocents have fallen victim to its terrible truth. But where is the other party’s response to such a devastating attack? Where is Coolidge’s?” Jack paused while the crowd shouted and booed. “You’re right. They remain silent. They do nothing.”

The crowd roared again, a mixture of anger and hissing disapproval for the other candidates’ platforms and actions.

“And what has been done about those who perpetrated such a terrible crime upon the innocent? Upon the just? Nothing. They’ve been allowed to crawl back into the shadows, hidden and protected by those who would ask for your votes. Tonight, those with illegal, unregistered magic sleep soundly in their beds, unworried about their future, while the families of the fine men killed last night mourn and this city cowers in fear. Among our candidates, who will stand for those good, true Americans who want only to preserve our way of life?” He paused, letting the crowd swell. “I will. This is my promise. And I will make good on that promise this very night.”

The crowd erupted again, some cheering while other sections rumbled with confused shouts, but it was clear that Jack had them in the palm of his hand.

Esta leaned her head toward Harte a little. “We’re out of time. Are you sure there’s no sign yet?”

He checked the watch again, but… nothing. It only read the time: nearly half past eight. He couldn’t help but wonder if the world would make it to nine before everything changed.

Once, Harte had stopped Esta from killing Jack. He had believed that the benefit would not outweigh the price she would pay for the weight of Jack’s life on her soul. But with all he’d gone through, all he knew about what was to come, Harte thought that it was possible he’d been wrong. For the right cause, perhaps it might even be worth the price.

You would kill the one but leave the rest? Seshat’s voice curled in his mind again. Look at them, so eager for blood to be spilled. So eager to prove themselves more powerful than they should ever hope to be. They are no better than Thoth. Yet you would absolve their sins? Why? With the girl, we could punish them all and rebuild the world anew.

Harte watched the crowd, the anger in their faces. The righteousness in their expressions—and the excitement. They were like a pack of dogs drawn to an injured animal, ready to attack. He could not deny the truth of what Seshat said.… But he pushed away the temptation of her words.

“You would kill them all for the sake of the one who betrayed you,” Harte said softly, speaking directly to Seshat.

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