“Except France is next door to Germany, and Baron Zeppler is almost certainly going to visit an exhibit like that.” Arthur swallowed. “It would be a dangerous place to take Rory.”
They couldn’t possibly take Rory to Europe, not with a mind full of history’s secrets that the telepathic Baron Zeppler could pluck from his brain. But going back to Paris would mean Arthur could be gone for months, not just weeks, without Rory.
Then again, it wasn’t just Europe that Arthur was worried about.
Zhang noticed his hesitation. “Anywhere could be a dangerous place for Rory right now,” he said gently, like he was the one who was reading Arthur’s mind. “Zeppler knows he’s alive. He’s got to be frothing at the mouth at the idea of getting his hands on a psychometric.”
Arthur stared into his coffee cup. “I’m aware.”
He’d been anxious and on edge since they’d left the city, because he wasn’t there to protect Rory when he could be a target. It didn’t help that in the space of a couple weeks, Rory had nearly lost his life to both the Hudson and Delaware Rivers, or that sometimes, when Arthur closed his eyes, he could still see Rory falling from the top of the ocean liner before the river itself had risen to save him.
“Pavel helped Ling and my mom set more guardian magic, before he put the lodestone on,” Zhang said, in a reassuring tone. “His alchemy is something else. No new paranormals are coming onto the island without us knowing.”
“I suppose.” If Arthur wasn’t literally trying to save the world—
“The sooner we destroy the pomander, the sooner we can get back to New York,” a woman’s voice said.
“Jade.” Arthur stood. “Did you have any luck?”
Zhang had stood as well, and without her heels, Jade had to stretch up and he had to stoop to kiss. “Hello, darling,” she said, grinning at Zhang like Arthur hadn’t even spoken.
“Stop being cute,” Arthur said impatiently. “Did Madame Legrand have anything useful?”
“Why are we outside?” Jade said to Zhang. “It’s freezing.”
Zhang gave Arthur a knowing look.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Arthur lied. He picked up his coffee and took a sip, only to find it had gone completely cold.
“Come on,” Jade said. “Let’s go in. I’ll tell you what I’ve found.”
It was warm and cozy inside the restaurant, the floors dark wood, the walls exposed red brick. The waitress brought fresh coffees and onion soups for each of them, the cheese on the croutons perfectly browned on top.
“Madame Legrand is a paranormal scholar specializing in magical phenomena in nature,” said Jade, who was digging into the melted cheese with the enthusiasm of someone who missed France. “She was very excited to find someone to talk to about her research, you know how scholars are.” That was punctuated with a playful look at Zhang. “Obviously I didn’t tell her about the pomander, but I got her talking about Niagara Falls.”
Zhang and Arthur exchanged a look. “I’m not sure I want to take the pomander over the falls in a barrel,” Arthur said.
Jade grinned. “Some things in nature can affect magic. Think of the lodestone that Pavel now wears, magnetite infused with magic. Madame Legrand says the power of the falls has aneutralizingeffect on magic.”
Zhang sat up straighter. “Does it really?” he said with fascination. “But could the falls possibly neutralize a relic’s magic? That’s nothing ordinary.”
“According to Madame Legrand, natural phenomena can also affect each other,” Jade said. “We saw the full moon affect the relic amulet’s tidal magic on Coney Island two months ago. It’s a long shot, but...”
“But it’s the best lead we’ve had.” Zhang was nodding with interest. “I think it’s worth a try.”
“There’s a full moon on the ninth,” said Jade. “That’s two weeks away, enough time to make a plan and get to Ontario.”
Two weeks. Bollocks. “But not really enough time to pop back to Manhattan first,” Arthur muttered.
Jade gave him a sympathetic look, which meant he’d been obvious enough in his recent moping that she’d picked up on his hopes that their next step would swing close enough to New York for a visit. “Sorry, Ace.”
Arthur sighed. “It’s fine. It’s the fate of the world,” he added dryly. “We need to follow this lead.”
She patted his hand. “I’m sure Rory likes the postcards.”
Arthur had sent one every few days, scrawled with his carefully coded messages in case they were read by anyone else. It wasn’t anywhere nearly enough. He swallowed another sigh and forced himself to start planning.
It was chilly on Staten Island, a March day that felt more like winter than spring. Small waves lapped against the rocky shore as a light rain fell from a gray sky that mirrored the gray water.
