“They made a sweep and took everyone down. We’re the only two left,” said Sinclair.
“Is the president inside?” she asked.
Foyle shook his head. “We aborted in time.”
Laura exhaled in relief. The fallout from the attack was going to be bad enough without the added nightmare of a trapped sitting president. She threw out her hand for silence. A faint whir carried on the air, the sound of gossamer wings in flight as they shunted essence. A wave of Inverni essence swept over them and passed on.
Laura waited until she no longer felt them. “They’ll be back. Can you move, Foyle?”
He shook his head. “Two hits. Leg and chest.”
Laura looked up at Sinclair. “We’ve got to get into the Rotunda. There’s a bomb.”
“Where the hell is our backup?” Sinclair said.
“Fighting to get in through the entrance,” she said. She leaned out to check the area. “Give Foyle your gun,” she said to Sinclair. Sinclair checked the clip and handed it over.
Laura crouched in front of the downed officer. “Hero time, Foyle. You up for it?”
He gave her a crooked grin. “If I recall, you don’t like hearing no.”
She smiled back. “Good man. I’ll do everything I can to come back for you. Do not let those Invernis come in behind us.”
He grabbed Laura’s arm. She and Sinclair helped him into a better vantage point. Foyle placed both his and Sinclair’s guns in his lap. “For what it’s worth, Agent Tate. I’m sorry I listened to the wrong people.”
She squeezed his shoulder. “Apologize later. Good luck.”
She grabbed Sinclair by the arm and pulled him into the open. Halfway to the exit, shots rang out behind them. No one followed them.
They stopped at the loge. “What’s the plan?” asked Sinclair.
“Unbutton your shirt,” she said.
He smirked. “Danger turn you on?”
She lowered her brow at him. “We need to get through that essence shield. Make sure I can get at that medallion of yours.”
He started to lift the chain. “Just take it.”
She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “We’ll keep your fey nature secret if I can salvage that. If not, don’t worry. I’ll rip it off your neck.”
He smiled. “I love it when you talk like that.”
She thumped him on the chest. “Stop it. We’re going to charge the barrier. The moment we’re through it, hit the ground.”
He peered out the door. “Isn’t the point of the barrier to keep us out?”
She nodded grimly. “Gambling time. I’m betting on your grandfather for help. Come on. And don’t get hit.”
They charged the Rotunda gate, streaks of essence leaping from Laura’s hands. More Inverni opened fire on them from the far end of the loge. Laura picked out essence waves from at least six Inverni maintaining their barrier. Laura shoved Sinclair toward the entrance gate. He stumbled in surprise as he hit the barrier and froze in place.
Spinning away, Laura hardened her shield and focused an essence shot on the Inverni directly above her. His head snapped back, and he fell hard inside the Rotunda. Without him, a thin spot formed in the essence barrier.
Laura lunged at Sinclair. He hugged her to his chest as they collided. She screamed as essence raked across her back. The barrier resisted them, slowing their momentum. Essence-fire burned through her body shield, and Laura screamed again. She clutched Sinclair’s medallion and fired essence directly into it. Its field exploded in size. The essence barrier thinned. She hit the medallion again. Its field ripped a hole in the barrier, and they fell through. Laura landed on top of Sinclair with a gasp as the wind left her.
Sinclair’s eyes went wide. He rolled and wrenched her with him as a bolt of indigo lightning scorched the floor. An Inverni had followed them through the barrier. Laura scrambled up, dazed. She thrust out her hand. A gunshot exploded in the air. The Inverni’s cheekbone shattered in a spray of blood. Laura looked down at the gun in Sinclair’s hand. “I thought you gave your gun to Foyle.”
“You didn’t say both guns,” he said.
Fanned around Sinclair and Laura, fey of every stripe ranged in an arc and fired at the barrier. Behind them, human and fey diplomats huddled against the wall, a riot of body shields creating layers of protection. Laura picked out Hornbeck near the back of the crowd under a distorted layer of essence generated by Resha Dunne. Blume was nowhere in sight.
At the back wall, the emergency alarms had activated, and the display cases were empty. Except one. The Treaty had reached the Rotunda. Cress stood in front of it, gripping the edges of the casement.
“Can you stop it?” Laura whispered.
Cress held up a hand for silence. A complex maze of essence enclosed the Treaty, an intricate web of layers within layers. Security and preservation charms and bindings pulsed and vibrated in rainbow hues of essence. Beneath them all, a deep green orb radiated with a force that burned against Laura’s skin.
“Helhound, is that thing the bomb?” asked Sinclair from behind her.
Laura nodded. “It’s enough pressured essence to vaporize everyone in here.”
Protection spells wrapped around the core of the bomb. Cress’s deep violet essence threaded its way through the levels, sorting out the purpose of the spells. Her tendrils danced along a green grid, wrapped around it, and tugged. The essence leached away, pulsing back up the strands into Cress. The grid faded. She started on the next one.
“Too many,” Cress whispered, her stark, black eyes wide.
“What is it?” Laura asked softly.
Cress paused. “They’re all trigger spells. I have to sort each one to find its purpose. I can’t identify which one triggers the bomb or how.”
“Can Sinclair’s medallion help?”
Cress shook her head. “Weakening the protection essence is a fail-safe on some of the triggers.” Without a word, Sinclair moved back.
“What can I do?” Laura asked.
Cress focused on the document. “Power. If I can tap someone’s Power, I can move faster.”
Body essence. Cress wanted body essence. Laura trembled as she took a deep breath. “Take mine, Cress. As much as you need. All of it, if necessary.”
Cress moved her head slightly. “It won’t be enough. I need more than one person.”
Laura swallowed hard. If Cress needed more than one person, she meant at least one would die as she drained them. Laura looked around the room. She didn’t know what to do. Pick someone, she thought. Hit them with a binding spell and let Cress work. Her eyes came to rest on Orrin ap Rhys. “What about the Guildmaster? He’s Danann. Does he have enough?”
Cress absorbed another spell layer. “He’s the strongest fey here.”
Guildmaster, you’re needed by the Treaty, Laura sent.
The barrier is weakening. We will be through in minutes, he sent back.
Laura appealed to his vanity. We do not have minutes, sir. There’s a bomb. Only you can stop it.
Rhys dropped his hands. He gave one last look at the essence barrier and started toward them. As he drew near, Laura saw his body signature towering around him like a storm cloud. Powerful was an understatement.
Cress gasped. “Something’s happening.”
Laura looked down at the Treaty. A wheel-shaped layer of yellow essence glowed in a pattern, bolts of light arcing along its radial spokes. The arcing grew, jumping from one part of the pattern to the next. They bent and swirled, twisting together and leaping out in the same direction. Laura followed the line of their path to Rhys. The bolts grew larger.
“Rhys, stop!” she shouted. He froze. The bolts stabilized but didn’t dissipate. Laura looked at the strange essence leaning toward Rhys, and she saw it for what it was. “The Treaty was supposed to rise during Rhys’s speech, Cress. The bomb is keyed to his body signature. He’s the trigger.”
Cress swayed. Black spider fractures appeared on the orb. “I think… I think it’s too late.”
The orb pulsed and expanded, white light burning in the fractures. Cress’s essence plunged into the cracks. Her violet essence became thick ropy strands as they sucked greedily at the orb.