“Fei, please, look at the future I had envisioned for us,” Mr. Pratt pleaded.
An illusion of Miss Chen appeared in the middle of the street. She was wearing a lavish wedding gown and speaking her vows lovingly to Mr. Pratt.
“There’s a gun to your head,” Miss Chen said. “What part of that suggests I want to marry you?”
“There’s no need for that,” Captain Goode barked out. “I don’t plan to kill any of you if I can help it.”
“And you expect us to believe that?”
“It will make things simpler if you do. You’re incredibly valuable. Everyone with a power is. I hadn’t realized how rare we are until recently. There’s only one of you.”
“We’re well aware of that,” I replied.
“What I mean is that there is only one healer,” Captain Goode said. “There’s only one enhancer, one illusionist. As far as our records show, each power is gifted to only one person at any given time. There’s never been two living people with the same power. If you die, I will have to wait fourteen years for your power to emerge in another healer.”
I gaped at him. “You mean to say…”
“Your power will be reincarnated,” he said with a nod. “I’d suspected that to be the case, but I could only confirm it when we had enough detailed records from our recent recruits. There, we found the date of death of the predecessor always matched the date of birth of the successor.”
The only one. I was the only one. How had we not known that before? A flurry of emotions boiled over and I gritted my teeth as it overwhelmed me. How dare Captain Goode keep this from us and then attempt to collect us like rare prizes? How dare—ah. Yes. The realization smacked me across the face. This was about more than just powers.
“You’re doing this for your brother,” I said. “You’re going to find Mr. Redburn’s successor.”
Captain Goode gave a stiff nod. “By then, all our powers will be gathered, and England will be keeping the world at peace.”
“With your daily murders and blaming of others.”
“I told you before, Miss Wyndham. You can’t save everyone. You always have to make difficult choices. And when you do, people look for a villain. If you don’t want it to be you, then you must give them one.”
“All right, stop, I don’t care anymore,” Miss Chen said. “I don’t even know why you’re still talking.”
“Because I want you to know that it is in my best interests to keep you and your friends alive,” Captain Goode said. “And I needed to give Mr. Seward time to put water in your gun.”
With a growl, Miss Chen aimed at Captain Goode and pulled the trigger, but the gun misfired. Mr. Pratt picked up his blade and slashed her as she tried to fight him for it. A heavy blast of water knocked her to the ground.
Taking advantage of the distraction, I reached for my dagger fan, tied to my wrist. But by the time I swung at Captain Goode, he was ready.
“Mr. Dunn, your assistance,” he yelled, my hand again in his grip. He glared at me as the cannibal girl’s grip tightened briefly around my throat. “The wonderful thing about your power is that I don’t even need your cooperation or permission to use it. I can lock you in a box, raise the power, and send you to the sick and wounded without any fuss. You’ll be much more useful.”
The frail Mr. Dunn approached, removing his gloves. He set his papery hand on mine, and I lost all feeling in my arm. It fell limply to my side, paralyzed.
The wind was picking up now, swirling the group’s clothes and hair till they looked almost comically evil. And then to complete the scene, thunder rumbled and lightning cracked through the sky. Striking the house right next to Captain Goode’s. Repeatedly.
They all turned for a moment, distracted by the sudden attack, while I could hear Miss Chen fighting Mr. Pratt again. “Miss Wyndham! Watch—”
Her warning was drowned out by the winds from what looked like a tornado flying down the street, straight at us. I kicked and yelled and clawed at Captain Goode’s hand, trying to pull out of his grip, out of the cannibalistic girl’s hold on my neck, but it did nothing. The winds tore through our group without a care, hurtling us in every direction.
I hit the ground hard and rolled into a fence at the end of the square. As the world kept spinning, I clumsily lifted myself up, ignoring the aching in my head. My hands shook relentlessly, and I realized Captain Goode’s glove was still in my fist. At least that was something. Winds and lightning continued to rip through the streets, shattering stone and flinging debris all over, before descending on the house next to Captain Goode’s. It stood no chance, as a growing fire consumed it and the winds scattered its remains.
“God dammit—” Miss Chen’s voice gasped behind me.
I tried to find her in the dark, but she was nowhere on the street. The sounds of her struggling led me into the garden, which suddenly looked wilder, untamed. She was trapped in a wall of green, struggling against vines that wound themselves around her ankles. Her power off, she let out a vicious curse and dug her fingers into the thick plant.
My left hand instinctively reached for my dagger, but I stopped. I knew this power. I had seen it at the Society of Aberrations last month, while Oliver was training. That boy would be somewhere here. Indeed, his head was peeking out of a shrub a few feet ahead of me, only a shock of brown hair and mournful eyes visible. He was too young for this. Just as Oliver was. I felt the fury rise higher in me.
I ran to him, watching Miss Chen, who had managed to rip off one plant but was now struggling with the errant vine that was wrapping around her neck instead. Still, the boy was so focused on her, he did not notice me until I was right behind him.
“George, please!” I whispered. “I know you; you’re Oliver’s friend.”
Immediately, half his vines curled up defensively around him, the other half, sharp with thorns, aimed at me. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“You don’t have to do this.” I tried to be gentle even as I spoke the words as rapidly as possible. “Come with us.”
He shook his head, eyes wet. “My friends…”
My heart broke a little. Dammit. “Just … just say we overwhelmed you. We’ll come back for you. For all of you.”
He gave the faintest nod as a shout came from the street.
“Find them!” Captain Goode shouted over the roaring winds.
I raced over to Miss Chen, her expression confused as the vines released her.
“Come on,” I said and grabbed her with my working hand. She was bleeding from several wounds, but she still had the strength to walk, barely. I dragged her through the junglelike garden, creeping under trees and in the shadows until we reached the hole she’d made in the gate. As we crossed the street out of the square, I looked back to catch an elaborate lattice of thick and leafy vines covering our exit.
The loud destructive storm boomed and crackled behind us, our breathing and footsteps the only sounds echoing down the long street that I hoped would lead us somewhere safe. Instead, we turned at a corner onto a narrow mews and found ourselves facing Mr. Pratt. Or rather, one hundred Mr. Pratts filling the street.
I stopped and backed away, looking for another exit, but Miss Chen slipped out of my hold.
“I knew you missed me,” the hundred Mr. Pratts said at once, each armed with a knife.
She kept limping toward him, refusing to back down. Her right hand curled into a fist, and she charged at the center one. But at the last moment, she veered to the left and struck Mr. Pratt across the face.
The illusions all vanished as he fell to the ground, his nose bleeding.
“The real one’s not as handsome as he thinks he is,” Miss Chen said as I caught up to her.