the edges and bursting into flame. When it touched the ceiling, there was an enormous concussion, and the dark grey stone of the castle suddenly erupted with cold blue glowing light emanating from previously unseen runes and sigils written on every surface. I could feel a surge of pressure, which might have put out my ears had it been physical, as the castle’s magical defenses pitted themselves against the power of a goddess.
They failed.
Stone shattered to dust, and energy exploded upward through the ceiling, through the upper floor, and through the roof into the summer night. Pure magical energy surged out with it, through the room, into the night, in a wave of such breadth and power that five minutes before, I would have considered it impossible.
Looking back, that was the moment everything started to change.
Magic ran rampant into the air. It howled through the streets and alleys of Chicago. It thundered through tunnels and roadways, a tsunami of raw power.
And wherever it went, the mortal world fell into darkness.
Power stations exploded. Electronic devices screamed and showered sparks. Screens played diabolical images and screeched in demonic voices before dying. Cars died; systems failed; trains went powerless and slowed. I heard later that there were nearly fifteen hundred automobile collisions in that single moment, resulting in scores of deaths.
Chicago fell into total darkness.
I found myself on my knees, sometime after, breathing hard, making pained sounds. Others were making similar noises. The lighting in the great hall hadn’t changed—not when it had been firelight in the first place.
King Corb and the Last Titan were gone.
I found myself staring at Vadderung as he fell heavily back into his chair, his expression stunned.
30
Asolid quarter minute of stunned silence followed before Gentleman John Marcone hauled himself to his feet, looked around at the destruction and confusion in the hall, and mused, “It would seem we have the Fomor’s answer with regards to the peace process.”
Ebenezar was the next one up. He looked around the room and said, “Is anyone hurt?”
“The dead, it would appear,” Marcone said. He started for the high seat and offered a hand to Molly. She glowered at him but took his hand and rose with a polite nod. He spoke in a low, intent voice that wouldn’t be overheard by most of the room. “Assess Mab, please, Winter Lady.”
Molly stared at him for a second. Then she went over to the hole in the stone wall behind the high seat. She stared for a moment and said, “What’s on the other side of the wall?”
“Storage,” Marcone said.
“On the other side of that,” Molly said, and vanished into the hole.
Etri and his sister stood up together. Voices rose in a babble of confusion and anxiety. Everyone had begun to recover and no one looked like they were happy about what was going on.
My grandfather looked around, eyes searching. He leaned over to Ramirez and muttered something. The Warden nodded and spoke quietly to the rest of the security team.
Carter LaChaise and his ghouls got up and were heading toward the exit.
“LaChaise,” Marcone said in a voice that very much was meant to carry to the rest of the room.
The ghoul looked over his shoulder at Marcone.
“Where are you going, sir?” Marcone asked.
LaChaise pointed a finger at the hole in the rear wall. His voice was a low, rich Louisiana gumbo with some whiskey added in. “You heard that monster. You saw what she did.”
“Yes,” Marcone said, his tone bored. “I also saw your signature at the bottom of the Unseelie Accords, I believe.”
“And?”
Marcone’s voice was mild. “And mutual defense in the case of an aggressor nation is stipulated therein.”
“Mab was the Accords,” LaChaise spat. “You saw what the Titan did to her.”
“And so I did,” Marcone replied.
“If she can do that to Mab, what chance do any of us have?” LaChaise asked. He looked around at the rest of the room. “All of us signed because all of us fear Mab. Do any of you think you can stand up to Corb and Ethniu when even Mab gets swatted down like a fly? Let this mortal throw away his short life if that is his desire. The rest of us were doing business long before these recent Accords, and we can do it again quite comfortably.”
LaChaise turned to leave, trailing half a dozen ghouls in the wake of his massive presence.
“Are you a coward, sir?” Marcone asked, his voice deadly quiet.
The ghoul whirled, light and fast for all his bulk, and a