Constantine - The Novelization - Whoa is (Not)

andy while he waited for the pan to heat up - might drip molten metal on his hand.Constantine was practiced, however, and with a steady hand poured liquid silver and goldmetal into the mold casings: bullets. The room smelled of minerals, as if the air werereminiscing about caverns of lava.Without their original shapes, some of the relics' virtues would be compromised. ButConstantine figured they were still impregnated with divine emanations, if a little diluted."You might reconsider..." Midnite suggested. Unspoken was the corollary: If Constantinedidn't take action, where would there be to run, later, after Earth and Hell had become one?There didn't seem any real point in reconsidering. Hopeless as this likely was."You could come with me," Constantine suggested nonchalantly. "Two fools die as easily asone."Midnite smiled, showing white, very white teeth. That remark had passed between thembefore."Not likely," he said. "No matter who rules on Earth, there will be sorrow. Fear. Loss. And Ido run a bar."Constantine suspected that whatever protection Midnite supposed he would have after Helltook over was illusory, and that the illusion was a product of Midnite's powerful ego.The truth was that Midnite's power was also his vulnerability. He specialized in a kind ofmagic that was about self-belief and force of personality translated into magical energy. And themore vain you were, the more powerful you were, in that kind of magical arena. Ego becameenergy, somehow, with him. It was that way even with nonmagicians, among the great men ofhistory: One of Napoleon's strengths had been his almost pathological self-belief. But it had alsoblinded him enough to make him invade Russia just before winter, a fatal step. With men likeNapoleon, and Midnite, the power of self-confidence also meant that they had to stay in a state offortress-like confidence in themselves to the point that they were blind to what might reallythreaten them - in Midnite's case, he might imagine himself important enough to be treated as anequal by the son of Satan.Mammon wasn't likely to think so.But Constantine couldn't say any of that to Midnite. The voodoo master wasn't constituted toaccept advice - if he did, he might falter. That was the paradox of his power.Constantine finished pouring the molds and put the pan down, then picked up the castings anddipped them into a big waiting pot of cold water.There was a hiss, an emission of steam. The steam seemed to carry the faint fragrance ofsaintly virtue."How exactly," Midnite asked, "do you intend to get close enough to use those?"Constantine cocked his head to one side, considering the question. He'd been putting that oneoff. But Midnite had a point.When the answer came, it came from an unexpected source. Chaz cleared his throat, lookedbetween the two magicians, and spoke up."They're not going to leave her unguarded...," Chaz hesitated.Constantine looked at him, frowning. Could it be that Chaz was going to be good forsomething besides ground transportation?"Now as we know," Chaz went on, "half-breeds are most vulnerable when their outer skin isbreached by holy water. And certain objects. Most notably, either of the two crosses of Isteriahave been used by the unordained to bless and sanctify all commonly occurring waters. Evenrain."He hesitated. They were staring at him. Was he making a fool of himself? He plungedonward. Too late to keep his peace now."If one such item," he went on, "were available, it might give the good guys an advantage."Midnite stared at him.Chaz shrugged - spread his hands. "No use sitting on the bench if you're not ready to play."