Artemis turned to me, looking very confused. “Is he trying to flee?”
“I believe so,” I said.
She jogged to follow. I walked. There was no need for expediency. Although Percy’s urgency was evident, even a toddler could have caught him.
Percy weaved between shelves, still clutching the books. He stepped behind a rolling ladder at one point and peeked around it as if he imagined himself invisible.
“Sir, we’re not here to hurt you,” Artemis called.
He pushed a book cart into our path. It moved two inches with the determination of a slug.
“This is the lowest-stake’s chase I have ever seen,” Artemis muttered.
“It does feel unnecessary,” I agreed.
We cornered him, dare I say effortlessly, near the microfiche machines. He clutched the books to his chest like a shield.
Artemis held her hands up in a calming gesture. “We just want to talk.”
Percy frowned. “Your cover identities are terrible.”
“Our what?” I asked, taking a step forward.
“Art and Artie,” he said. “Come on. You two need to try harder.”
“That is not—” Artemis sputtered. “That is not my actual name, it’s Artemis. Wait. Howdoyou know our names?”
Percy’s gaze flicked from her to me. “It doesn’t matter how I know.”
I decided I should speak. “I’m Arthur.”
He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
“It’s thetruth,” Artemis insisted.
“Sure. Whatever. It hardly matters.” He glanced around, then lowered his voice. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe. I shouldn’t be seen speaking with you.” He reached into his shirt pocket and handed Artemis a small, white card. “Meet me at this address in two hours. Don’t follow me now.”
I looked at the card. All it had on it was an address in the Strip District. No name or indication of what the place was.
“Why should we trust you?” I asked.
“You shouldn’t,” Percy said matter-of-factly. “But you want answers. And this building isn’t secure.”
Before we could question him, he slippedsideways between two shelves with surprising speed and vanished into an employee-only corridor.
Artemis blew out a long breath. “That was weird, right?”
I studied the card. My instincts told me he was afraid of something real, not imagined.
“We should go,” I said.
She nodded. We walked back through the foyer, dusk light spilling across the marble floors and gilded trim. Outside, the evening breeze carried the scents of food stands along Forbes Avenue.
How had Percy known our names? Had Artemis submitted a request? How did he know we wanted answers? What kind of answers was he going to provide? Either way, we were meeting with him in two hours. We’d come this far, and I’d been searching for so long. I could wait a little longer.
Halfway across the parking lot, Artemis slowed. She looked down at the card, then at the ground.
“I never much cared for being called Artie,” she murmured, her voice small and uncertain.
