It was intoxicating. Freeing. I heard myself laugh, and reached out to touch a glittering chain of molecules. Lightning sparked through the net and flashed in my eyes down in the real world.
It was like playing God. Beautiful and terrifying.
The first lightning strike hit the roof, and the concussion was so intense at this close range that I went temporarily deaf and blind, and every hair follicle on my body seemed to rise in the electrical aura. When it passed, I barely had time to draw a breath before the next bolt hit steel, and then a third. Hammer of the gods.
When the wind hit the smoking, glowing structure, spinning down in a dark spiral from the low-hanging clouds, the metal just collapsed in on itself like a dropped Tinkertoy model, and the whole beach seemed to vibrate from the impact. Fire licked and hissed as some of the more flammable components caught, but it wasn't likely to spread; the rain was intense, and concentrated right on the worst of it.
Venna hadn't moved. She was smiling slightly, and when she looked at me she said, "Now you have to balance it."
"What?" I yelled over the roar of thunder and pounding, wind-driven surf. I stumbled toward her and swiped wet hair back from my face. "Balance what?"
"The scales," Venna said. "Make it all go away, but don't let the energy bleed over into more storms."
"You mean it's not over?"
Venna shook her head. She'd let the funnel cloud dissipate, its purpose completed, and the rain was slacking off from a monsoon to a downpour. "You'd better hurry," she said. "The Wardens will be screwing it up if you don't hurry. They never can get it right."
I had no idea what she meant, but Venna was notably not helping me. She crossed her arms and stood there, Zen Alice, untouched by the chaos she'd helped unleash.
I turned my attention to the storm.
"The Wardens teach you to do this from science," she said very softly; I didn't know how it was possible to hear her over the wind, but she came through as if it were a still, silent day. "Science can fail you. Learn to listen to it. Sing to it. It doesn't have to be your enemy. Even predators can be pets."
I struggled to make sense out of what I was seeing. So much detail, so much data, all in spectra the human eye wasn't meant to see, much less understand. I can't do this. It's too big. It's too much.
I took a deep breath, stretched my hands out to either side, and stepped into the heart of the storm.
It hurt. Not only physically, though the windblown sand and debris lashed at me like a dozen whips. It got inside my head, and howled, and I flailed blindly for something I could touch, could control, could stop...
And then, when I opened my eyes on the aetheric, it all made sense. The swirling chaos became a shifting puzzle of infinite intricacy, and where the pieces met, sparks hissed through the dark, bright as New Year's fireworks lighting the sky. I reached out and moved two of the pieces apart; the spark leaped and died in midair. I tried it again and again, until the grand, gorgeous pattern of the air was whisper-quiet, glowing in peaceful shifting colors.
When I blinked and fell back into the real world, I could see the stars.
Venna gave a very quiet sigh. "Yes," she said. "Exactly like that. Now you are Ma'at."
So now I was guilty of some kind of supernatural sabotage, at the very least, but I figured it probably boiled down to plain old insurance fraud. Something simple and skanky, something with an immediate financial benefit for Eamon, of course.
But hey, at least I'd learned a useful skill.
"Astonishing," Eamon murmured, looking at the wreckage and all of the emergency crews swarming around the scene in the predawn light. We were sitting on the low rock wall-Eamon, Venna, me, and Sarah, with the two Wardens asleep behind the rocks, held in that state by Venna. I didn't think Eamon could see Venna at all, because he hadn't asked about her, and she didn't exactly fit in.
Didn't seem prudent to mention her.
"Complete destruction," Eamon said, and seemed utterly satisfied. "You are a one-woman wrecking crew, love."
"Thanks," I said with an ice edge of chill. "We done now?"
"Done?" His eyes were preoccupied, and it took him a second to pull his attention away from the human aftermath on the beach to focus on me completely. "Ah, yes. I did say that I wanted only this one thing from you, didn't I?"
Bad feeling bad feeling bad feeling. "That's what you said."
"I don't think that will be possible after all," Eamon said, and smiled just a bit. Just enough to keep me from killing him. "This is the start of a beautiful and very profitable relationship, Jo. After I marry your sister-"
"After you what?" I blurted. "Time-out! Nobody's getting married. Especially not to you."
Sarah didn't even look up to meet my fierce stare. Haggard and strung out, but my sister, dammit. My family. "You can't tell me what to do," she said.
"Sarah, wake up! He's a criminal! And he's a murderer!"
"Yeah, well, what about you?" she flung back. "You think you're not guilty of things? You think you aren't just as bad? Don't you dare lecture me!"
"Keep your voice down!"
"Or what? You'll call the cops? Go right ahead, Jo; they're right over there!"
Sure enough, two uniformed cops standing next to their cruiser were looking in our direction. I swallowed and tried to moderate my own voice to something in the range of reasonable. "Sarah, you do not want to jump into this. Really. You don't know this man. You don't know what he's capable of doing."
Eamon took her hand. His long, lovely fingers curled around hers, and then he kissed her fingers, staring at me with bright, challenging eyes the whole time. "She's not jumping into anything," he murmured. "And really, Joanne, you're making far too big an issue out of this. I only want to make her happy."
"You want to use her," I said. "You want to threaten her to get me to do whatever you want. Trust you to find a way to make money off of disaster."
He made a tsking sound. "Construction companies, insurance companies, cleanup crews, police, fire, ambulance, paramedics, hospitals, doctors, funeral parlors, coffin makers...all those people make money off of disaster. And thousands more. I'm merely a novice."
"You want to cause them!"
"Don't be so negative," he said. "Freak accidents happen. No reason not to arrange them to our benefit once in a while."
Venna hadn't moved. She continued sitting on the wall, neat and prim, kicking her black patent-leather shoes like a kid, watching the emergency crews with every evidence of total fascination. I shot her an exasperated look. "Help me out here."
"It's human stuff. I can't," she said serenely. "Besides, they can't see or hear me. I'm a figment of your imagination, Joanne."
Hardly. My imagination would have conjured up a hunky, half-naked guy Djinn, preferably one who looked like David. I glared at her.