Even stranger, they did not appear to be succeeding. A powerful shield sparked and flared in the gloom with every volley, to the point that the little temple appeared to be wreathed in lightning. Yet not so much as a tile on the many small rooftops appeared to have been disturbed.
Zheng must have read the confusion on his face, because he finally calmed down. At least enough to demand: “Don’t you know what that is?”
John looked at it again. It was a pagoda. He looked back at Zheng.
He did not seem like a particularly religious person to John, but what did he know?
Zheng swore some more. “That’s the Pagoda of the Whispering Winds. It’s one of the six pillars supporting the phase spell.”
“The phase?”
“Yes, the phase! The phase!” Zheng looked a little crazed. “The one that keeps this place from crashing into human Hong Kong? The one that keeps it from killing everyone in both cities?”
Annnnnd, finally, something started to make sense.
John stared at the pagoda some more. Built of dark hardwood, it had classic upturned roofs painted blue underneath, six progressively smaller stories as it went up, and strings of brass bells swinging from the corners. It was attractive, as was the small park it was set in, but was otherwise unremarkable.
Except for the fact that it was about to kill them all.
Chapter Nineteen
H ong Kong’s phase was famous for being one of the biggest feats of magical engineering on earth. It required multiple conduits—masked as pagodas, apparently—to channel enough energy from the ley line sink below the city to fuel the spell. The reserve there was so deep and so large that it could power almost anything.
And, John realized, could destroy it just as easily.
The city was sitting atop potentially the biggest bomb on earth, the equivalent of thousands of nuclear reactors. Meanwhile, the supernatural world was involved in a war, one in which neither side had been able to score a definitive victory. But annihilating two cities, along with a sizeable chunk of the War Mage Corps, would certainly qualify.
John felt his blood run cold.
“How many pillars have to fall,” he asked Zheng through numb lips, “before the spell fails?”
“How the hell should I know?” the big vampire snarled. “You’re the mage! You tell me!”
But John couldn’t tell him. Spells as important as the phase tended to be excessively overengineered. If their enemies wanted to bring it down, they would need to destroy more than one pillar, maybe a lot more. Although how many John didn’t know because this wasn’t his city!
But if they didn’t stop this, it wasn’t going to be anyone’s city, and millions were going to die.
“We have to find Caleb,” John said.
“Who?”
“The war mage we’re tracking! We have to find out who’s behind this—”
“You have to,” Zheng responded, whilst searching for something in his suit. “I have to see the tong.”
“The tong? Why on earth would you go back there?”
“Because they have men!” Zheng said, gesturing at the leather coated army. “And they’re the only ones who do!”
“Men who are already fighting—”
“Yes, in the damned streets, when they need to be here! This is the real battle—”
“The battle is the whole city!” John snapped. “If the tong pulls its forces here, the Corps will follow. They won’t have anyone slowing them down anymore—”
“And if they don’t come here, those pillars will fall and we’ll all die,” Zheng pointed out. “And I know the tong. They haven’t committed all their troops. Not by half—”
“Then where the hell are they?”
“Where do you think?” Dark eyes flashed. “Guarding their warehouses and rerouting mages away from their businesses. They’re trying to minimize losses when we’re about to lose the whole damned thing! They have to send their people here—all of them. Now!”
“And you’re going to convince them of that how?” John demanded. “Even if they didn’t see you rescue me—”
“They didn’t see shit. Your lot made sure of that!”
“—they didn’t seem exactly friendly!” John thought of the duel Zheng had had to face simply in order to get a hearing. And that was after he’d dragged John in as a prize! “What makes you think they’ll listen—”
“They’ll listen.” It was grim. “They’ll listen if I have to—"
Another earthquake hit, sending both men to their knees.
“—rip their damned insides out!” Zheng yelled, glaring at the Corps, who had just launched another massive volley at the pagoda.
John could feel the magic like sunlight on his skin. Could smell it on the air, a harsh, buzzing, peppery odor that stung his nose and watered his eyes. As if anger had a scent.
Shield or no shield, that pillar wasn’t going to last.
John gripped the big vampire’s arm. “If you survive, tell them to reroute the barriers—those great blue shield walls of theirs. Tell them to trap as many mages as they can in the city—”
“With the civilians?” Zheng looked at him like he was mad. “That will leave the people no way out—”
A stray spell from the battle slammed into the canopy of trees above their heads, sending burning branches and leaves pelting down on the two men. Zheng swore, but other than moving back slightly, there was nowhere to go. The battle was worse.
“A way out where?” John yelled, through smoke and drifting ash. “You said it yourself, the portals are closed! We’ve must have been pushed out of phase far enough that they can’t find us!”
It would explain why Jonas hadn’t been pulling any more mages out of here. The clogged, narrow streets should have served as the perfect bottlenecks to allow for the extraction of large numbers of the enthralled. Yet, if that had happened, John had seen no sign of it.
No sign at all.
Probably because, for any portal to be opened, it had to have a fixed point on either end. When John first arrived, the city had still been in its usual phased position, since whoever was masterminding this had needed to get his own troops in here. But as soon as they all arrived, it had been in his best interest to knock the place out of alignment, ensuring that no rescue attempts could be made.
And leaving those inside well and truly alone.
Zheng must have agreed, because he nodded tersely but didn’t comment. Or maybe that was because he’d finally found what he’d been looking for. It was a small bronze ball, scuffed and scratched and dented, with Chinese characters impressed into the metal. It looked old.
The vampire saw John’s interest, and gave a grim smile. “You mages aren’t the only ones with tricks up your sleeves.”
Or on them, John thought, as Zheng held the device just above his right forearm. A second later, the small orb was gone and he was wearing a bronze gauntlet. And then a breastplate of boiled leather, a pair of matching tassets to protect his legs, another gauntlet and a Chinese style helmet, all of which were covered in small, trefoil brass ornaments. Lamellar armor, where metal plates were sewn into the leather to strengthen it, had been common in ancient China, but John had never seen anything like this.