Helena pushed him away, stumbling over her suitcase and falling. He reached for her, his face a gentle smile, but it twisted as an unseen force dragged him back.
“You—you—” Helena convulsed. Only her eyes stayed steady, locked on the corpse of Katherine. “You killed her!”
“So that we could be together, my love.”
Around Kane the reverie convulsed, too, pitching so suddenly that even Elliot felt it. He looked around, unsure.
“You ruined it,” Helena said, her voice cracking apart. She pointed at Elliot, and one of the metal tubes bent toward him. “You ruined everything!”
Elliot didn’t even have time to put his hands up before the mortar went off. The firework was a blazing rocket, aimed at Elliot’s head. The deafening explosion put wind and fire into the willows, and for ten seconds the courtyard was a riot of sparks. Then, through the smoke, a wavering pink light pulsed.
Kane wasn’t sure what would be left of Elliot. Some prince-shaped bits of body and no more. But there he stood, safe behind the curved dome of a vibrant magic shield, its source the girl at his side.
Ursula.
“Augustine,” Helena seethed. “I should have known.”
The flaming garden surged with heat as the energy of the reverie went from anguish to anger, and Kane felt the twist taking shape. One by one the fireworks began to shoot up into the night.
“You said you would help me, but you’re just as bad as everyone else. Just as cruel. He killed her, Augustine.”
Her words choked off as she looked where Adeline’s body should have been. It was gone. So was the blood. Kane realized he had been watching one of Elliot’s illusions, which had worn off at the worst time. Adeline, sneaking away, stood exposed in the flashes from above.
Helena couldn’t make sense of it. “What is this? A trick? What’s going on? Who are you people? Tell me!”
“Adeline,” Elliot said through gritted teeth. “Do something.”
Adeline’s eyes went gray, her corrosive telepathy firing up as booms shook the ground. As though reflexive, a mortar swiveled toward her.
“Adeline! Look out!”
The words left Kane’s mouth before he could stop them, but Adeline heard him. She threw herself down as the firework whistled into the trees. In the aftershock, Helena’s eyes found Kane.
“Willard, you, too?”
Whatever heartbreak Kane had felt on her behalf before, she felt now as the characters of her world turned against her one by one. As her world twisted beyond even her recognition. She groaned, clutching at her head. Dark pulses of energy bustled from her, burrowing through the garden and cracking apart the tree trunks. The sky crowded with clouds illuminated from within by cotton candy explosions as the fireworks continued to go off. Dry crinkling accompanied the garden’s rapid desiccation as all that had once been magnificent withered and grayed.
Elliot knelt by Adeline, dragging her back. Ursula was at Kane’s side.
“This is…a trap,” Helena spat. “Willard was in the nest. You’re all…after the eggs. This is a trap, isn’t it?”
“Eggs?” said Ursula. “There aren’t any eggs.”
“Katherine, too,” Helena sobbed, booms overtaking her small voice. She snatched up her case. “You can’t take them from me. I’ll never let you hurt them.”
“Them?” Ursula glanced at Elliot and Adeline. “This isn’t how it’s goes.”
“It’s too late,” Adeline said, wincing. She could barely keep her eyes open. “It’s ruined.”
“That’s right,” said Helena in a hollow voice. “It’s too late. It’s ruined. But at least we still have each other, right, my hatchlings?”
The case popped open, and up floated the four eggs Helena had been stealing. There was the blue and gold one, and the pink and pearl one. The diamond and garnet egg flared like a match in the firelight. Besides it bobbed the egg of milky opal.
“My beauties. My darlings,” cooed Helena. Her body flashed with dull light, as though she were the clouds obscuring the fireworks.
And here, Kane felt, came the twist. The remarkable maiming of Helena’s wondrous world was at hand. He sensed what Helena needed from her story now was not a resolution, but a very bloody revenge.
The eggs bulged, growing in size until they crowded the courtyard and pushed into the lower boughs of the flaming willows. Embers rained down from above, landing on the eggs and warming their precious metal shells.
Helena’s smoking body pressed between them, soaking the air with her malevolence toward the intruders.
There was a knock from within the blue egg, and suddenly a hole was punched open by a great and sparkling horn. Its lapis lacquer matched the crumbling eggshell. The immense insect legs that followed gleamed a metallic gold. Next the opal egg split open, a polished beak stabbing the air. An eye the size of a beach ball landed on Kane, unblinking.
The other eggs were breaking open now, too. Helena’s voice dripped with animosity.
“Now, my hatchlings, it’s your turn to feed upon the world.”
• Nineteen •
THE RECEPTION
Augustine Beazley’s wedding had been lovely, everyone agreed. But the reception was a total nightmare.
Firstly, there was the issue with the fireworks. They scored glittering streaks through the fogging night, only a few making it high enough to pierce the low clouds. The rest landed in the garden, igniting it, and several rocketed directly into the roof, igniting that, too. The guests, who had all assembled upon the patio to gaze expectantly at the sky, watched the disaster for as long as it took one rocket to drill right through the willows and into the crowd, sending lace and limb flying in a gay blaze.
Secondly, there were the monsters: Helena’s hatchlings, hewn from priceless metals and precious stones, summoned with only revenge in their minds. The great secrets of the Beazleys’ wealth, unleashed against the family’s assembled detractors.
The third thing was that the champagne was served warm. But no one minded that, on account of the monsters.
The one tearing apart the ballroom was a beetle. It was the size of an elephant, armed with a powerful horn and protected by a shell of faultless lapis lazuli. Its six golden legs skittered on the dance floor as two people circled it. The first was Cousin Willard, who had always been a bit odd and was known to protect bugs from the predatory swats of his mother. His intervention made sense.
The other person, however, should have run. She, of all people, deserved to pursue safety and comfort. It was her wedding, after all.