Without thinking, I stabbed Allison’s parasol into the corpse’s empty eye socket. The metal tip squished in, clunking against bone.
I shoved, and the body toppled back into the water, its hands catching empty air as I skittered out of reach. But my heels hit something. I jerked around—it was Oliver, yanking me to safety.
“Stupid,” he snarled, his eyes locked on the water. “There are hundreds of them!” He grabbed at Allison’s arm next, and then pitched us both toward Joseph and Daniel.
“What do we do?” Allison wailed. “The Dead are everywhere!” She clutched her face and scrabbled closer to Joseph. “What do we do?”
“This changes our plans,” Joseph said, shouting to be heard over the splashing and crunching bones of the Dead—and the distant echoes of a shrieking city. “Our duty now lies in retrieving Jie and protecting Marseille. Marcus is second priority to that.”
“No.” The word rushed from my mouth. We had come here to kill Marcus. “If we have to stop all these Dead, then he wins!”
Joseph shook his head grimly. “And if we do not stop the Dead, then we leave an entire city at risk. Daniel.” He glanced at the inventor and pointed to the harbor. “Deal with those, please.”
“Gladly.” With a grim slant to his lips, Daniel unholstered two pistols and marched away from us. Corpses grabbed at the pier, but their bone fingers had not yet gained purchase. So with a steady arm, Daniel took aim at the nearest set of yellow skulls and matted hair. . . .
Pop! One pistol fired, and the heads sank beneath the waves.
I wheeled back on Joseph. “Marcus wants us to give up on him—you know he does. This is just a distraction.”
“She’s right,” Oliver inserted. “He has ambushed us instead of the other way around.”
“Be that as it may,” Joseph said, “but this is my duty. My job. I find Jie and protect the city first. That is what the Spirit-Hunters do.”
“What about me?” Allison cried. “What do I do?”
I pointed up. “You get back on the airship.” At that exact moment, the balloon shifted in the wind, and its shadow moved over us, blocking out the sun. “Climb the ladder, Allison, and then pull it inside once you’re on board.”
“But—”
“You will be safe there,” Joseph added. “No one can get to you that high.”
Her lips clapped shut, and I could see her trying to find a reason to protest—but before she could summon any words, Oliver’s hand shot up.
“Look.” He pointed to the end of the Old Port, to where a large avenue hit the open quai.
And to where two figures strolled into the sunlight . . . followed by row upon row of shambling corpses.
My stomach curdled. I knew who it was—even from this distance. That broad-shouldered shape could only be the necromancer wearing my brother’s skin.
I launched myself toward Daniel. “Spyglass,” I shouted.
He whipped around, a pulse bullet clenched between his teeth as he reloaded his pistols. Without waiting for a response, I thrust my hand into his pocket and snatched the spyglass from within. I ignored his shocked stare and stalked down the pier, pushing the glass to my eye.
First I found Marcus. God, he looked so much like Elijah still . . . and yet so different. So large. And while the auburn hair that waved in the wind was like my brother’s, the way Marcus tugged at the black sleeves on his perfectly tailored suit was nothing like my unfashionable older brother had once been.
Then, several paces back, I found Jie.
Bile rose into my throat. She looked nothing like herself. She wore a dress—her waist pulled in unnaturally tight. Painfully tight, while the dress was a monstrosity of a gown. Gold, enormous, and with a wide, trailing skirt. And her hair—her hair. It had been piled on top of her head, a column of black with enormous orchids pinned in at all angles.
She looked like a puppet. A doll dressed up to walk alongside a monster.
I jerked down the spyglass. “I will kill him—”
Arms lashed around my waist, holding me back. “What are you doing?” Daniel bellowed. “We need a plan!”
I pushed him off, rage boiling in my lungs and up my throat. Marcus would die—and he would die now.
But then Oliver jumped in front of me and grabbed my shoulders. His yellow eyes blazed in the sunlight. “This is what Marcus wants, El. To be seen. To make you furious and careless. We can’t give in—we must stick to our original plan and go to the Notre-Dame.”
“Go without me—”
“You will both go,” Joseph said, appearing beside me.
“I. Want. Marcus.” I shoved the glass at Joseph. “You and Daniel can go to the Notre-Dame—”
“Are you insane?” Daniel demanded as Joseph lifted the spyglass to his eye. “Joseph and I don’t know what to look for there!”
“Marcus”—I snarled the name—“has made a plaything of Jie. I will not allow him to get away with that.”