But Zhang was shaking his head. “You need an aura to link it to. Sasha’s a paranormal. We don’t have auras, we have magic instead.”
“So everyone’s got one or the other?” Rory pursed his lips. “Could we find someone with an aura for Pavel?”
Mrs. Wang exchanged a glance with Zhang’s astral projection. “It’s...complicated,” Zhang offered.
Rory furrowed his brow. “Complicated?”
Zhang looked awkward. “Not everyone is comfortable with that type of magic.”
Whattype of magic? The type of magic he already had inArthur? Who wasn’t comfortable with that? Rory opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Mrs. Wang gave him a kind smile.
“We know the Ivanovs. Ling is interested in alchemy and Sasha sometimes brings us Pavel’s potions.” She gestured at the vials on the shelf. “And we’re looking for another way to help him. Subordinate magic is difficult. Humans were not built to have magic at all, and certainly not to have magic flood into them like a river that’s broken its dam.”
Rory let it go, not wanting to talk too much about his link with Arthur and why he had it. “The relics help. Maybe we could give a relic to Pavel if we could find another relic.”
“We certainly could. Although,” Mrs. Wang’s smile turned wry, “is that going well for you?”
He winced, but her words had been sympathetic, not judgmental. He relaxed a hair in his seat. “Not really,” he admitted. “Are you a subordinate paranormal too?”
She shook her head. “Incorporeality.” When Rory blinked, she calmly passed her hand straight through the surface of the table. “I can phase through anything except lead.”
“It’s why half our trunks are welded shut,” said Zhang. “Handy place to keep magical artifacts when no one else can get them out. Speaking of...”
He disappeared. A moment later, there were footsteps on the stairs, and then the door opened.
Rory got to his feet, brightening as Jade came in. She smiled warmly back at him. “Ace gave us your compass and your ring.” She held out cupped palms, the compass in one, the gold, bejeweled ring looking right at home with her pretty nails in the other. “Pavel’s magic should be gone from the compass by now, but we thought Ling may still want a quick look. The ring, on the other hand...”
“Want us to keep it for you?” Zhang nodded at one of the sealed trunks. “We can’t put it in lead, because my mom can’t phase through that. But we can put the ring out of your reach until you want it back.”
Rory sighed. “Yeah, that’s probably best,” he grouched. “I’ve been nothing but trouble as King of the Wind, and I can’t be trusted not to go cracking safes and searching through Ace’s stuff for it.”
Arthur hadn’t come with them to the teahouse. “What’s Ace up to?”
“Ah.” Jade exchanged an awkward glance with Zhang. “He’s heading to the North River piers to pick someone up.”
Pick someone up? No, not just someone—someone coming in on a ship. Maybe from across the ocean. Maybe from London.
Maybe his ex-flame, Lord Fine.
In Jade’s palm, the ring twitched.
Jade, Zhang, and Mrs. Wang all turned toward Rory in alarm.
“Um.” He swallowed awkwardly. “How about we put the ring outta my reach right now?”
Arthur frankly would have been happy to pick up Wesley in a housecoat with ten days of stubble. But he was representing his family, so instead he found a barber for a decent shave and to undo the mess the sea wind had made of his hair. Then came a stop at his tailor, Mr. Dannenberg, to pick up a suit he’d ordered three weeks back. He changed into it there, a three-piece ensemble in a navy so dark it was nearly black, with a light blue shirt and a red tie. Mr. Dannenberg gave him a new fedora to match.
He glanced at his impeccable reflection in the mirror and sighed. He’d have traded the lot for the potato sack Rory had mentioned if he could just go to the Dragon House and deal with all their magic questions instead.
Wesley had of course traveled first class and didn’t have to deal with Ellis Island processing. Arthur drove across Lower Manhattan to the Hudson River, where Wesley’s ship was docked at one of the piers. The pier representative gave assurances he would arrange for all of Wesley’s party’s baggage to be transferred to the Waldorf and then vanished, leaving Arthur alone to face Wesley and his entourage.
He stood on the crowded dock and watched the first passengers disembark down the ramp from the ocean liner: a white couple, the wife in thick furs, awkwardly clutching the arm of her husband as he held his hat in place against the wind; an elderly white gentleman with a cane and a bald head, escorted by a young woman who looked like his daughter.
A short man in a flat cap elbowed his way to Arthur’s side. “You somebody we should know?” the man asked, eying his clothes and hat. He had a notepad in hand and eager expression. Almost certainly a reporter.
“I’m no one important.”
The reporter scoffed. “That’s why you got a coat that cost as much as that ship.” He jerked his thumb at the ocean liner. “Someone special getting off that boat?”
