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Understanding flashed through Abel’s expression. “Paul Kelly has it?”
“He must,” Viola told him. “Right now he trusts me. If I leave without an excuse, he’ll grow suspicious, and I won’t be able to find out where it might be.”
Abel Johnson looked like a man fighting with himself. “This ring—everyone keeps saying it’s so important. But do you really believe it’s worth a man’s life? Your friend’s life?”
Pressing her lips together, Viola met his eyes. “Jianyu knows how important the ring is. He wouldn’t risk a chance to retrieve it for anything. Not even for his life.”
Abel let out a frustrated breath. “Look, I don’t pretend to know anything about this magic mumbo jumbo you all are involved in. It doesn’t have anything at all to do with me. But Jianyu saved my sister’s life twice now, so ring or not, I’m not leaving until you agree to come.”
Viola wasn’t sure what she should do. If Abel Johnson didn’t leave, he’d get himself into trouble with Paul, and for what? Niente. It would only put them all in danger and make the ring even more difficult to locate. It certainly wouldn’t save Jianyu.
She glanced back at the building. Her brother was an early riser. Soon he’d be stirring, and he’d expect her to be there. “There’s no time for me to return before Paolo realizes I’m gone, but once the sun is up, I could make an excuse.”
“I don’t know if Jianyu has that long left,” Abel told her. His expression was serious, and Viola could not tell if the look he wore was the truth or simply a bluff.
Guilt twisted her stomach, but she lifted her chin. Jianyu’s life was in her hands, but she could not lose her chance to find the Delphi’s Tear—to protect it from Nibsy, the Order, and even from her brother. Jianyu would not want that. He would understand. None of them were worthy of the power it contained. If any one of them had control of an artifact as powerful as the ring? Viola knew well the suffering that would follow. She could not allow that to happen.
“Come back at noon. Paul goes out after his lunch to check on his businesses around town. I should be able to slip away for a while then. Wait at the corner of Great Jones Street,” she told him as she forced down her guilt. “If I can, I’ll meet you there.”
“That’s not good enough,” Abel said, his hands fisted at his sides.
“It has to be.” Then Viola turned away from him, ignoring his protests as she walked toward the kitchen entrance of the Little Naples Cafe.
She did not look back as she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, pressing her back against the heavy wooden panel. She knew that every second that passed until noon would be a trial. If the ring weren’t so important, if the others after it weren’t so dangerous, her choice would have been easier.
When are choices ever easy? she thought darkly, and before she could stop herself, Viola was thinking of another choice—perhaps another mistake. What might have happened the night of the gala if she hadn’t turned Ruby down? What if Viola had simply accepted the gift of Ruby’s kiss, if the two of them had left the gala together, right then and there, for some impossible future? She would not have thrown her blade. She would not have hit Jianyu. She would not be in this position, stuck between the anvil and the hammer.
Viola lifted her fingers to her lips, and this time she touched them. But she could no longer feel the imprint of Ruby’s mouth upon hers. Even the memory of it was beginning to turn hazy. Perhaps her refusal that night had been a mistake, but what other choice could she have made? Perhaps her refusal now was a mistake as well. She let her legs fold beneath her and began counting the minutes until Abel’s return.
THE MOMENT APPROACHING
1904—Texas
The early-morning sun beat down from a crystalline sky as Esta finished placing the last vial of incendiary, and then, brushing her hands on her pants, she made her way back to where Maggie was waiting with North. He looked worse than before, his skin nearly gray and his breathing shallow.
“Is everything ready?” Maggie asked, looking up from where she sat cradling North.
“I think so,” Esta said, glancing out to where she’d laid the charges.
“You really think this will work?” Maggie asked, her voice like glass.
Turning back, Esta saw Maggie sitting there, her skirts covered in the dust from the ground, her arms filled with North and her eyes filled with fear. “It has to.”
Esta wasn’t sure that Maggie heard, though. The other girl’s attention was on North, and Esta wondered if the look on Maggie’s face was the same one she herself had worn the day Harte nearly tumbled from the bridge, or the night before, when Jack Grew was choking the life out of him. She allowed herself a moment to wonder where Harte was, whether he’d made it off the train as he’d planned and was safely away, or if he too was trapped.
She wanted to believe that she would know if something had happened to him. She wanted to believe that maybe the fact that Seshat’s power was still connected to her meant that Harte was as well, but Esta had never been one to spin fairy tales. And anyway, wanting a thing didn’t make it so.
Far off in the distance, the keening whine of the train’s whistle sounded. A few minutes later, it came into view, and the time for wondering was over.
Esta jogged to the place where the fuses she’d laid earlier all came together and ducked behind a row of scrubby bushes. She ignored the prickling brambles as she checked the position of the sun and wished she had a watch of her own. So much of the plan was dependent upon everything happening at exactly the right time, and yet she would have to rely only on instinct, hoping that she remembered and reacted when necessary.
The train was coming closer now, and when Esta turned, she saw that the posse was coming as well. A sense of déjà vu swept through her as she saw the horses at full gallop. Then she noticed that a small group of them had steered their mounts to the center of the tracks. The engineer must have seen the horses, because Esta heard the wailing screech of the brakes and the hiss of steam being released from the boiler as the train struggled to slow in time.
She remembered then how the train had swayed with the sudden braking, and she continued to watch the scene, waiting. Right now, the other versions of themselves should be leaving the Pullman berth. Soon they would make their way out of the train, as they had the first time. With the way Esta had used her affinity earlier, she wouldn’t be able to see when her past self exited the train with Maggie and North. She wouldn’t be able to tell when it was approaching—the moment she would lose hold of time and North would be shot. But if she could distract the posse right when it happened, if the men on horseback turned away instead of aiming for North, maybe she could rewrite what had happened.
She could only hope that there would be some sign of when to act once the train came to a stop. Because if she acted too late, all their plans would be for nothing. If North was shot as he was before, nothing would have changed.
As the horses’ thundering hooves grew closer, Esta thought she saw the flicker of something—a wavering of her vision in the spot where they might have once stood a little ways off from the train. Her instincts told her that it was as good a sign as she’d ever get. She touched the scar at her wrist and hoped that her theories were right.
