"That girl is attempting to destroy the city," I warned him, but he rol ed his eyes. Mal ory had been blinded by her addiction to black magic. McKetrick was blinded by his ignorance, his unwavering confidence that nfi, bvampires were to blame for every il in Chicago.
"It looks to me like she's trying to stop it," he said.
"You couldn't be more wrong," I told him. "You're an ignorant fool."
"I got the registration law passed."
"Because you lied and failed to mention you attacked me on a public street. You fight things that mean no harm to you and are completely blind to the real threats."
Lightning crashed into one of the trees on the other side of the Midway, splitting it in half and sending it crashing down into the flames.
Mal ory was stil murmuring spel words, and the flames were growing higher by the second.
Yes, he could have used the gun. And yes, an aspen sliver to the heart would probably have done me in. But I was tired of McKetrick, and I didn't have time for his shenanigans right now.
"You are helping her do this," I said, not real y concerned that I was outing sorcerers. They were total y on my shit list.
"Liar," he muttered. And hand shaking with fury, he pul ed the trigger.
The gun backfired, the barrel exploding, sending wood and metal shrapnel through the air. I instantaneously ducked, and stil felt the shock of pain as shrapnel caught me in the back.
But I was stil alive.
I looked up. McKetrick was alive, as wel , but he hadn't been so lucky. His face was dotted with blood spots from shrapnel hits, and his right hand was a mess of blood and bone. He lay on his back, blinking up at the crimson sky, his hand pressed to his chest.
It probably said unflattering things about me that I had trouble gathering up any sympathy, but McKetrick would undoubtedly blame his injuries on us anyway.
A bolt of lightning struck a light pole nearby, drawing my attention back to the unfolding magical drama. The flames were tal er than the trees now, their fingers licking up toward the red sky, which was now covered by a haze of blue smoke.
"Mal ory!" I cal ed out, stepping toward the plinth again.
"You have got to stop this."
She lifted her hands into the air, and I could feel the magic gathering and swirling again.
"Why should I stop? So you can gloat about how you nailed the screwed-up little sorceress? No, thank you."
"This isn't about you and me!" I yel ed ful -out over the roar and crackle of fire and the swirling wind. "It's about Chicago. It's about your new obsession with black magic."
"You don't have a clue, Merit. Keep living in your tidy little vampire dorm. You're oblivious to the world around you - to the energy and the magic. But that's not my fault."
Catcher emerged through the smoke on the other side of the plinth. "Mal ory! Stop this!"
"No!" she yel ed out. "You wil not interrupt me!"
"I'm sorry," he said, "but I can't let you do this."
"If you stop me now, you'l kil Ethan." She pointed at me.
"Tel her that, Catcher. Tel her that you'l keep me from bringing him back."
But he kept walking closer and closer toward her. "If you bring him back, it whiml keep me on't be him. He'l be a zombie, Mal ory, and you know that. I know why you're doing this. I know how good it feels, and how bad it feels, al at the same time. But you can learn to control it, I swear to God you can."
"I don't want to control it," she said. "I want to own it. Al of it. I want to feel better."
But Catcher persisted. "Simon was an awful tutor, and I'm sorry I didn't recognize it. I'm sorry I didn't see how dangerous his stupidity was. More sorry than you'l ever know. I didn't know you were going through this. I just thought you were pul ing away from me. I thought he was turning you away from me. This is my fault, Mal ory." Tears streamed down his face. "My fault."
"You know nothing," she spat out, and hefted up the Maleficium . "No one understands this - how important it is."
"It's not that important," Catcher calmly said. "You're just high on it. On the power. On the potential. But it's false, Mal ory. That sense that you have in your chest?" He beat a fist against his heart. "It's false. Doing evil won't make the world a better place. It won't make that feeling go away. It wil only make it stronger, and you'l have driven away everyone you love."
He raised his other hand, and I could feel the pulse of magic as he prepared to whip something toward her.
"You can't stop this," she said evil y. "You can't affect my magic."
"No, I can't," he said with resignation. "But I can affect you." Magic began to glow and swirl in his palm as he prepared to strike.
Realizing that she'd have to face him down, she changed up her strategy again. "But that wil hurt me," she said, her voice more like a child now than a woman of twenty-eight.
"Please don't do that."
"If you're tel ing the truth, then I pray it wil only hurt for a moment," he said. He lobbed his hand at her; a diamond-sized glint of light flew in her direction, growing into a giant blue orb.
As if in slow motion, it flew through the air past me. But Mal ory dropped the book and batted away the orb. With an explosion of light and rock, it hit the statue and knocked a chunk out of the knight's shoulder.
"I hate you!" she screamed at him, and while I had no doubt the sentiment was just magic and exhaustion talking, the pain in Catcher's face was clear.
"You'l get over it," he said, and threw another orb at her.
This one landed, and struck Mal ory square in the chest.
She flew backward and hit the ground.
Al that magic she'd created, al that energy she'd gathered together, was suddenly released. With a freezing cold rush, Catcher's orb exploded, expanded, and spread into a blue plane of light that flew across the Midway with the roar of a 747, extinguishing the flames as it moved.
Extinguishing the spel as it moved.
Extinguishing hope as it moved.
For a moment, there was mostly silence. Smoke rose from the charred grass and singed trees in the Midway, and crackles of leftover magic sparked across the ground like miniature lightning. The haze lifted, and the red in the sky spread and dissolved, a few stars peeking through the haze of smoke. The outer edges of the park stil glowed with cinders, but the firemen would be able to make headway now.
It t sh the hazewas over.
Mal ory was unconscious, her prophecy having come true. She'd been bested by Catcher, the White City at risk no more.