Many nations and states had their own structures on the Exhibition grounds. That meant at least forty buildings were up in flames. The firemen would have their hands full for hours—maybe even days.
I hugged my arms over my chest. The necromancer had prepared for everything. He had stopped the Spirit-Hunters by destroying their lab. He had stopped the police and Exhibition guards by taking hostages. He had stopped the firemen by igniting the state buildings.
The patrolman glanced uneasily at the crowds behind me. They heaved closer and closer. “Besides,” he called out, “what’re we gonna do? We can’t kill the Dead.”
“No,” I snapped, “but we could set the Dead on fire! Explosives—anything!”
“And that’ll destroy the Exhibition. Not to mention put the living at risk.”
“Then break their knees—does no one pay any attention to the Spirit-Hunters?” I thrust my shoulders back. “Let me through.”
“No.”
He swung his gun at the nearest protesters. “All of ya! Back off or I’ll shoot!”
Like an ocean wave, the crowd pulled back, including me.
Well, I tried diplomacy and that failed. So distraction and speed it will have to be.
I turned to face the crowd. “Listen. Listen to me!” I shouted. “I’ve got loved ones in there too. If we want to keep them safe, we have to do as the police ask.” I glanced back. The patrolman had lowered his gun. He gave me a nod of approval. Perfect.
In a single movement I spun and leaped at the officer. His mouth dropped and he tried to lift his pistol, but I was already on him. I jabbed his arm aside and sped between the wagon barricades.
I didn’t look back. I held my skirts high and pumped my legs as fast as I could. I raced through the turnstiles.
A gunshot popped. I prayed it wasn’t at me. The cries of the crowd swelled to a roar, and I knew the police would have their hands full soon—if they didn’t already.
I flew across the main square, past the Bartholdi Fountain, and toward Machinery Hall’s eastern entrance. Another shot rang out, but I couldn’t tell if it was intended for me. Either way, I was too close to stop.
I slammed into Machinery Hall’s entrance. Two more shots fired. One cracked into the wooden door frame just above my head. I barreled inside.
The Spirit-Hunters’ lab door was open, and I skittered through. Daniel was at his table. He whirled around, his fists bouncing up and his stance dropping low.
He froze. “Empress. Why are you here?”
“To help.” I gulped in air and wiped sweat from my brow. “I heard about the hostages.”
Daniel had healed some since Saturday night, though not much. The skin around his left eye was purple and green, and the gash over his lip was a ragged scab.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“It’s bad. Two thousand people are trapped in Agricultural Hall.”
I gasped. “Two thousand?”
“Yeah. And the necromancer gave us a note—delivered by one of his corpses. We’ve still got the book hidden for now, but if we don’t hand it over soon, the necromancer is gonna let some of his Dead loose to feed on the hostages.”
My breath shot out. I swayed back, but Daniel lunged forward and caught me before I could fall. For a moment he held me, his arm looped around my waist and his eyes gazing hard into mine.
“Eleanor.” He swallowed and wet his lips, his eyes roving over my face. But then he pulled back and released me. “You shouldn’t be here. There’s nothing you can do.”
“No. I have to help.” I reached out and clutched at his sleeve. “Where’s Joseph? Jie?”
“Agricultural Hall. They’re trying to get through the lines of Dead.”
“Lines?”
“Yeah. The necromancer’s got hundreds of them in rows, like an army. They attack if you get too close, but otherwise they just stand there.”
“Have you seen the necromancer?” I wanted to ask if he’d seen Clarence, but I held my tongue. Now wasn’t the time.
He swung his head sharply. “No. His corpses do all the work for him.” With a yank, he freed his arm from my grasp and turned back to the table. “Whoever he is, he picked the perfect moment. He took us apart bit by bit, and now we can barely fight back.”
“Are you going to give up?” I demanded at his back.
“Hell no, Empress.”
“Are you going to give him the book?”
“Maybe. Probably.”
I wedged myself between him and the table. “What’s the plan?”
Through clenched teeth he said, “We’re going to try to save the hostages without givin’ him the book, but there are fires burning everywhere.” He threw a hand toward the window. “There are corpses crawling all over the place, Joseph is exhausted, and I’m havin’ to start all over with my pulse bombs.
“Worst of all, the necromancer is losing control of his army. Joseph says the spiritual energy that animates them is unraveling. If we hand over the book now, maybe the necromancer and his army will leave before it’s too late.”
“You mean before the whole army turns Hungry?”
“Yeah.”