The voice, spoken in a businesslike tone, made me jump almost to the stars. I spun on the source of the sound, leveling my rifle.
An older black woman stood beside Prof. Wrinkled skin, white hair in a bun. Scarf at the neck, fashionable—yet somewhat grandmotherly—white jacket over a blouse and slacks.
Regalia, empress of Manhattan. Standing right there.
I planted a bullet in the side of her head.
11
MY shot didn’t do much. Well, it made Regalia’s head explode, so there was that—but it exploded into a burst of water. Immediately after, more water bulged up out of the neck in a giant bubble and formed into her head again. Color flooded it, and soon she looked exactly as she had a moment before.
Regalia’s self-projections were apparently tied to her water manipulation powers. I hadn’t realized that, but it made sense.
In order to kill her, we’d have to find her real body, wherever it was. Fortunately, most Epics who created projections had to be in a trance of some sort to do it, which would mean that somewhere she was vulnerable.
Regalia’s avatar glanced at me, then turned back to Prof. This was one of the most powerful Epics who had ever lived. Sparks. Hands sweating, heart thumping, I kept my gun on her—for all the good it would do.
“Abigail,” Prof said to her, his voice soft.
“Jonathan,” Regalia replied.
“What have you done here?” Prof nodded toward the destruction and the injured.
“I needed to draw you out some way, dear man.” She spoke with elevated diction, like someone from the old movies. “I figured that a rogue Epic would focus your attention.”
“And if I hadn’t yet arrived in the city?” Prof demanded.
“Then knowledge of the destruction here would pull you faster,” Regalia said. “But I was fairly certain you’d be arriving tonight. It was obvious that you’d be coming for me, after my last little … calling card arrived in Chicago. I counted the days, and here you are. You are nothing if not predictable, Jonathan.”
Another blast of fire lit the night nearby, coming from a different rooftop. I spun, cursing, and pointed my weapon in that direction.
“Oh dear,” Regalia said in an emotionless voice. “I guess he is going further than my instructions advised.”
“He?” Prof said, voice tense.
“Obliteration.”
I nearly dropped my gun. “You brought Obliteration here? Calamity! What is wrong with you?”
Obliteration was a monster—more a force of nature than a man. He’d left Houston in rubble, murdering Epics and regular people alike. Albuquerque after that. Then San Diego.
Now he was here.
“Abigail …,” Prof said, sounding pained.
“You had better stop him,” Regalia said. “He’s out of control. Oh my. What have I done. How terrible.”
The color vanished from her avatar, and it fell, splashing down into water once again. I looked through my scope, surveying the destruction. Some people swam away from the burning rooftops, while others screamed and crowded across bridges. Another flare of light drew my attention, and I caught sight of a figure in black moving among the flames.
“He’s there, Prof,” I said. “Sparks. She wasn’t lying. It’s him.”
Prof cursed. “You’ve studied the Epics. What’s his weakness?”
Obliteration’s weakness? I searched frantically, trying to remember what I knew of this man. “I … Obliteration …” I took a deep breath. “High Epic. He’s protected by a danger sense tied to his teleportation powers—if anything is going to harm him, he teleports immediately. It’s a reflexive power, though he can also use it at will, making him very hard to pin down. This isn’t just a minor wall-traveling power like Sourcefield, Prof. This is full-blown instantaneous transportation.”
“His weakness,” Prof prodded as another flare blasted in the night.
“His true weakness is unknown.”
“Damn.”
“But,” I added, “he’s nearsighted. That’s not related to his powers, but we might be able to exploit it. Also, when he’s in danger, his teleportation kicks in and sends him away. That protects him, but it also might be something we can use, particularly since I think his teleportation powers have a cooldown of some sort.”
Prof nodded. “Good job.” He tapped his mobile. “Tia?”
“Here.”
“Abigail just appeared to me,” Prof said. “She’s brought Obliteration to the city. He’s causing the destruction.”
Tia’s response was a series of curses over the line.
I glanced at Prof, looking up from the scope of my gun. Though the sky was dark, all of this spraypaint—glowing around me on the bricks, wooden bridges, and tents—lit Prof’s face. Were we going to move against Obliteration, or fade away? This was obviously some kind of trap—at the very least, Regalia would be watching to see how we handled ourselves.
The smart thing to do was to run. It’s certainly what the Reckoners would have done a year ago, before Steelheart. Prof looked at me, and I could read the conflict in his expression. Could we really leave people to die?
“We’re already exposed,” I said softly to Prof. “She knows we’re here. What would running accomplish?”
He hesitated, then nodded and spoke into the line. “We don’t have time for the wounded right now. We have an Epic to bring down. Everyone meet in the center of the first burning rooftop.”
A flurry of confirmations crackled over our line. Val and Prof started across the swinging rope bridge toward Tia and Exel, and I followed, nervous as I stepped on the bridge. The planks had been spraypainted alternating neon colors. That only helped highlight the darkness of the water staring up at me from below. As we walked, I took my mobile and zipped it into the shoulder pocket of my jacket—that pocket was supposed to be waterproof. Not that I’d tested it beyond the normal Newcago rains.
The water below reflected the neon lights, and I found myself gripping the rope side of the bridge tightly. Should I mention to Prof that I couldn’t swim? I swallowed. Why had my mouth gone so dry?
We reached the other side, and I calmed myself by force. The air here smelled strongly of smoke. We jogged across the rooftop and met up with the others, who had been joined by Mizzy. A nearby tent had been melted to the ground; it outlined the bones of those who had been trapped inside, their flesh vaporized in a flash of destruction. I felt nauseous.