The Serpent's Curse Lisa Maxwell (famous ebook reader .TXT) 📖

When they came to a display about earthquakes that had happened early in the century, they paused. Beneath a wall of photos was a model of the city, most of the streets destroyed by the quake. Chinatown had been flattened, as had most of the area around it. But the building they were currently in had remained standing… for the most part. It explained the missing top floor.

The level of sheer devastation made Harte pause. “The whole city was destroyed,” he realized. Twice. He’d never seen anything like it. No wonder Chinatown seemed so changed from the streets that he’d walked only a few weeks before.

Esta was frowning. “I knew there was a big earthquake sometime early in the century, but I don’t remember there being two.…”

“That’s what it says,” he read, running his finger along the words etched into the placard. “The first one was in July of 1904, and then there was another two years later, in April of 1906. It destroyed most of what had been rebuilt and burned the rest of the city to the ground.”

Her brows were furrowed. “July?” Esta stepped closer and read the placard again. “That’s when we were there, Harte. Look at this—the map. Look at where they think the epicenter was.”

He leaned forward, but he knew already what he would find. On the other side of Chinatown, the small dead-end Dawson Place was marked with a red bull’s-eye.

“I knew that Seshat was powerful, but I didn’t realize—” She looked at the map again as though it might tell her some other story if she stared at it hard enough. “I did this.” She lifted her hand and touched the spot on the map.

“You don’t know that,” Harte told her, wishing there was something more he could say.

“I do.” She looked at him, her whiskey-colored eyes filled with certainty. “I felt her. When I slipped you forward. I thought I could hold her back, but I—”

The guard entered the room behind them, and Harte went on high alert. “Later,” he told Esta as he nudged her along, ignoring the way Seshat rattled within.

As they rounded a corner and entered the next gallery, Harte noticed a glass case that glowed golden from within at the same time Esta grabbed for his arm. Seshat’s power rustled at her closeness, but Harte barely noticed, because he’d already seen what had made Esta gasp. The Dragon’s Eye. Miraculously, it was still there, every bit as ornate and fanciful as the day Harte had found it deep within the Order’s vaults.

This time the crown wasn’t sitting out in the open, but behind a thick case of glass that reminded Harte of the one that had contained the Djinni’s Star back in St. Louis. There was no hint of opium, as there had been at the fair, but he circled the case carefully, pretending to read over the information about the crown as he tried to figure out what security they would have to get through.

He looked up to find Esta staring at the headpiece, mouth pulled into a frown and her brows furrowed, like she was confused. He sidled up next to her. “The security seems minimal,” he whispered. “We could try to take it now.…”

Esta shook her head ever so slightly. If he hadn’t been looking for her answer, he wouldn’t have realized she was telling him no. She glanced up at him, and he watched indecipherable emotions play across her features. She was about to say something, when the guard from before entered the room. This time he wasn’t alone.

“Do you know, I think I’ve had enough touring for one day,” Esta said. Her voice had a false brightness to it that couldn’t mask her nerves. “I’m positively famished, though. Maybe we could find a place to eat?”

“Of course,” he told her, playing along. He didn’t allow himself to make eye contact with the guards, who were clearly following them.

Harte braced himself for an attack as they worked their way out of the exhibit and took the stairs back down to the lobby. They nodded to the man at the front desk, then let themselves out into the noise of the streets. Once they were outside, Esta picked up her pace, but a few blocks away, Harte tugged her to a stop. He leaned against one of the ornate lampposts.

“We need to keep moving,” Esta told him. “I think we’re being followed.”

Before he could argue, she threaded her arm through his and began tugging him along. Even with the layers of clothing between them, Seshat pressed at Harte, writhing within him to get to Esta.

Soon, she whispered. Soon the girl will be mine.

No, he thought, shoving Seshat back into the farthest depths of what he was. I will destroy us both before I ever let you touch her.

Harte thought he could feel Seshat’s mocking amusement, but he turned his attention back to Esta. “They were waiting for us. I should have expected it. I never should have brought you there—but it’s been fifty years.”

“Thoth’s been waiting for centuries to get control of Seshat,” Esta reminded him. “What’s fifty years in the grand scheme of things?”

When they reached California Street, a cable car was stopped in the center of the intersection, blocking the flow of traffic. Just as the driver had finished collecting his fares and was returning his hand to the large hand brake in the center of the car, Esta tugged Harte into the street and urged him on. He didn’t hesitate. Ignoring how exhausted and drained he felt, he sprinted alongside Esta to reach the trolley. They barely managed to hop on as it started moving—too late for anyone to follow. While Esta paid their fares, Harte collapsed into one of the empty seats. He didn’t miss the two men standing at the corner, where they had been, watching the cable car pull away. Their frustration was clear, and on their lapels, silvery medallions gleamed.

Once the trolley car was underway,