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“We were to eat breakfast together.” Liza sniffled. “I promised to give her a tour of Harry’s equipment and introduce them afterward…” Her voice trailed off almost subtly, making me wonder what she wasn’t saying about Houdini. “She was so excited, I cannot imagine her missing it. For some reason she kept asking if he’d be practicing for another aquatic act.”
That certainly sounded like Mrs. Harvey. I patted Liza’s arm, trying to steady her without causing further distress. The motion also helped keep me calm and focused. I needed to remain in control if Thomas fell apart. “Were you to meet her at our cabin or hers?”
“We were supposed to meet outside the breakfast room at quarter past eight.” Liza drew in a ragged breath. “I was running a little late myself, but by quarter to nine, I decided to check on her rooms. I wasn’t sure if she’d overslept. When I got to her room and knocked, no one answered.”
“You weren’t in our cabin?” I asked. Liza shot me a look but didn’t elaborate.
Uncle kept pace behind us, remaining silent but watchful. It was impossible to discern what his feelings were—unsurprising, since he was the man who’d taught both Thomas and myself the importance of divorcing emotions from both murder scenes and investigations.
“I went to fetch you, but you were out, so I ran to Uncle.” She glanced over her shoulder, either assuring herself he was still with us or hoping he’d not overheard my earlier question of where she’d been. “I found him en route to the captain and we started searching everywhere.”
I tried not to let my own fear show. It would have taken something extraordinary to keep Mrs. Harvey from being introduced to Harry Houdini. “She’s probably chatting with one of the other ladies. You know how distracted she gets.”
I could no longer tell who was pulling the other down the promenade faster, Liza or myself. We rounded the corner and practically ran to Mrs. Harvey’s cabin. The door was ajar, and Thomas was standing in the center of the room, fists clenched at his sides.
“Have you—”
He held a hand up. “One more moment, please. I’m almost…” He abruptly walked over to her trunk and popped the lid open. “Her cloak is missing, as are her gloves. There’s nothing out of place, which means she was likely interrupted on her way to breakfast.”
“How did you know where she was going?” I asked. He hadn’t been present when Liza offered that information.
“There. The tea in the cup on her nightstand is ice cold to the touch.” He pointed it out. “Under the saucer is a paper with this morning’s date on it, meaning she’d had the tea delivered when she woke up. Since there’s no sign of a meal, it’s not a stretch to assume she was heading to breakfast with your cousin. She is acting as a chaperone, so another easy deduction. Now then”—he spun on his heel, eyes darting over everything once more—“who would have enticed her enough to not send word of her being late?”
I felt Liza’s awe fill the space. Uncle’s was there as well but was a bit more tempered, as he’d witnessed Thomas’s deductions firsthand several times. For Liza it might be akin to seeing a circus monkey speak English. Or perhaps watching a magician who truly could make miracles happen. Thomas was every bit as incredible as the ringmaster, if not more so. Mephistopheles was amazing at engineering tricks, but Thomas unearthed truth by using his intellect.
“Come,” Thomas said, abruptly moving out the door, “let’s pay a visit to Mephisto. Wadsworth? Lead the way to his lair.”
We rushed past third-class passengers who crowded the deck, my pulse galloping faster than any racehorse the closer we drew to the workshop.
There were many more people out than I’d seen on our way to Mrs. Harvey’s cabin. Some of
them appeared stricken, faces pale as the frost creeping up the ship’s railing. My body thrummed with warning—something had happened. Something that created an uncomfortable buzz and a glazed-over look of worry. Or was I simply imagining things? I slipped over a section of slick walkway, and Thomas’s hand shot out, steadying me. I gripped his arm, noticing Uncle had also taken Liza’s as we picked up speed. Each step forward filled me with more dread.
Once at the workshop, I dropped Thomas’s arm and banged on Mephistopheles’s door, the pounding more frantic than my heart. I waited a breath, then knocked again, this time louder. The vibration reverberated up my arm and I felt it deep within my bones, but I couldn’t stop myself from banging again and again. We had to find Mrs. Harvey. I couldn’t imagine—
Thomas carefully wrapped his hand over mine, stilling me. “He’s not here, Audrey Rose. It’s all right.”
I stared at the closed door, jaw clenched against the tears that were threatening. Mrs. Harvey needed to be all right. I sucked in a deep breath, composing myself once again. The cool air helped soothe the rising panic.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s head down to the carnival cargo area, Mephistopheles—”
“Dr. Wadsworth!” We all jerked our attention toward the sound of the ringmaster’s voice. I wasn’t comforted by the expression on his face—it was more wild and frenzied than I’d ever before seen, even half hidden by a mask. “Please, come quickly.”
Mephistopheles skidded to a halt, then swung back in the direction he’d come from, not waiting to see if we followed. Thomas looked half mad with worry, but kept whatever he was thinking to himself, guiding me into the stairwell after Mephistopheles as quickly as my bulky skirts allowed. Instead of descending into the belly of the ship, we climbed the stairs up and up, the sounds of our shoes clomping over the metal and ringing both above and below.
Uncle and Liza brought up the rear, while Thomas and I practically clutched at Mephistopheles’s scarlet coattails. I’d ceased to be surprised when we reemerged on the first-class promenade and headed straight toward the music room. Mephistopheles had addressed my uncle rather than me, which wasn’t promising.
Without preamble, he threw the door open, thankfully revealing a sobbing Mrs. Harvey in the corner, hanging tightly to a very pale Andreas. Jian loomed behind them, his expression as stormy as the churning sea. If he were a god, he’d be wrath incarnate.
“Mrs. Harvey.” Thomas rushed to her side, dropping down to his knees, examining her for any wounds or trauma. Liza let go of our uncle and assisted Thomas.
My own emotions calmed at seeing Mrs. Harvey alive, though terribly shaken, her whole body vibrating with tremors and her lips moving silently in either prayer or comfort.
I immediately switched into scientist mode, attention falling over every object in the room while Thomas tended to his chaperone. The tarot cards Mephistopheles had painted, the Cirque d’Eclipse, were scattered across the floor. The magic looking glass lay propped against the wall where I’d seen it last, appearing no worse for the wear.
“There.” Mephistopheles told my uncle and me. “In the trunk.”
Uncle pushed his spectacles up his nose, his expression harder than the polished wooden planks we stood upon. I steeled myself as well; coming upon a body any place other than in a sterile laboratory was always a challenge. We were scientists, not monsters. I crept over to where the trunk sat alone behind a tower of tasseled pillows, fine silks and scarves spilling from its sides as if it’d been disemboweled. Andreas shut his eyes tightly, looking as though he wished he could conjure up another fate.
