Wonderstruck

by Allie Therin

  Rory was already there, deep in a copy of The Further Adventures of Zorro, oblivious to the world.

  Arthur’s heart lurched, and he wanted so badly to kiss him. Instead, he dropped into the small wooden chair across from Rory, which creaked under his weight. “I haven’t read that one.”

  Rory looked up. “Hey,” he said, lighting up. “Did you get it?”

  Arthur gestured to his briefcase. “I didn’t touch it,” he admitted, too quietly for anyone to overhear. “I know I’m not magic but, well, I’ve got your magic in my aura, and I just thought better safe than sorry.”

  “Smart.” Rory pushed a menu across the table.

  Arthur pushed it back. “Order for me.” When Rory furrowed his brow, Arthur added, “It’s your food, your culture, and there’s probably nothing on that menu I won’t enjoy.” He pointed at the toddler, who had an entire meatball in one tiny fist and was eating it like an apple. “I mean, look at her. I want that to be me.”

  Rory grinned. “You’ve never had meatballs?”

  “I’ve had meatloaf.”

  “Not the same.” Rory waved the waiter over, an older man who gave the toddler an indulgent smile as he passed the big table. Rory ordered for them in a blend of English and Italian, and Arthur’s heart hurt all over again.

  As soon as they were somewhat alone again, the words burst out of him. “Did your father have you beaten for speaking Italian?”

  Rory’s eyes widened.

  “I’m sorry.” Arthur rubbed his face. “I shouldn’t have asked, and I certainly shouldn’t have just blurted that out—”

  “It’s okay.” Rory looked shaken by the question, but he said, “Yeah, he did, me and another boy. Just the one time. I didn’t ever speak it at his church again.”

  Arthur swallowed. “It’s barbaric.”

  “It happened to lots of kids,” said Rory. “Still does, doesn’t it? For all kinds of languages, Seneca, Spanish, Russian, Chinese, you name it. Church told us we were supposed to be Americans now.”

  “That just makes it worse,” said Arthur. “What is so threatening about letting children keep their culture? That shouldn’t have ever happened to any child. It shouldn’t have happened to you.”

  “Not arguing with that,” Rory said ruefully. He added, more gently, “It’s in the past.”

  “Christ.” Arthur covered his eyes. “Now you’re having to comfort me about the bad things that happened to you.”

  “It’s not like things have been all roses for you,” Rory said quietly. “Yeah, you grew up with money, but you still can’t tell your own family the truth about your feelings on fellas.”

  “Yes,” said Arthur, “but I’m capable of nuance. I can acknowledge my own hardships while also acknowledging that other people have dealt with far worse. Look at what Jade and Zhang have to deal with.”

  “Yeah.” Rory sighed. “Is it better anywhere else?” he asked tentatively.

  Was that—an openness to leaving New York someday? “Everywhere has prejudices,” Arthur said. “But at least there are places that no longer openly codify them.” He added, too casually, “If, you know. If you ever wanted to see them.”

  Rory pursed his lips, and Arthur braced himself for disappointment. But then Rory said, “When you and Jade talk about Paris, it seems like you were happier there.”

  There was something softer in his eyes as he asked the question. “It was easier,” Arthur hesitantly admitted. “Easier for me not to worry about my family’s reputations on the line. Easier for my family to just say I’m off in Europe instead of explaining why I’m eternally single.”

  “Do you want to go back?”

  “You’re here.” The words slipped out before Arthur could stop them.

  Rory’s eyes widened.

  “And I have to save the world, of course,” Arthur quickly added, wincing. Rory had lied to Mrs. Brodigan for weeks because he couldn’t bear to keep her back. Even the sincerest promise that Rory wasn’t a burden might mean nothing if he thought he was shackling Arthur to New York.

  The waiter was coming with their food. They were quiet as he set plates in front of him and then disappeared again. Rory had ordered the meatballs for Arthur, and he went straight for his fork.

  “What if we were in Paris together?” Rory suddenly said. “I mean, I’ve only been outta the state that time I was dragged to Philly by Hyde, and I don’t got the cash. But you just took on my dad for me. And if this could be for you, if it could make you happy—” He shrugged self-consciously. “Just...what if?”

  Arthur’s heart leapt, but he had to be realistic. “It would make me happy,” he said wistfully. “To have you in Paris—there’s a world’s fair starting right now, we could look for answers to the pomander.”

  Rory tilted his head. “Shouldn’t that be our next move, then?”

  “It would,” Arthur said reluctantly, “except under no circumstances should you get that close to Baron Zeppler. And it’s not just me being overprotective; the world can’t let him have the secrets your mind holds.”

  Rory narrowed his eyes. “This baron is making things real personal.”

  “Yes,” Arthur agreed tightly. “He is.”

  * * *

  They caught the first morning train east out of Syracuse to Utica and then another train north, into the Adirondacks. Rory watched the forest out of the train window with wide eyes. He’d been lost in visions of the past when his dad had him shipped off to the asylum, and even after Mrs. Brodigan and her sister got him free, he’d been too weak to see much beyond the walls of his room.

  But now he could see mountains, and trees with their first green leaves. Arthur told Rory they were going to a campsite where he, Jade, and Zhang had once opened the Tempest Ring.

  Rory wondered if he was ready to follow Arthur anywhere he wanted to go.

  Jade met them at the train station. “Zhang and the Ivanovs are setting up,” she explained quietly, as the three of them piled into the back of a taxi.

  The weather was still cool in April, and the summer tourists and campers hadn’t yet gone into full swing. Their taxi was the only car on the road, and Arthur promised the driver double if he’d return to their campsite the following day.

  They hiked off the trails, to a deserted part of the forest.

  “Pavel’s already been working on the potion,” Jade said as they walked.

  Rory swallowed. “Is he...”

  Jade nodded sadly. “His magic rushed him the instant he took the lodestone off. But the lodestone was strong enough you were able to enthrall an entire ship. We’re all hoping it will be enough to pull him back.”

  She paused in the middle of the trail. “We placed warding magic up ahead. We know from your ring it won’t contain a relic’s magic, but we’re hoping it helps. There’s no one else around for miles, though. Zhang is keeping an eye out.”

  “No one to breathe in the pomander. Well, of course, except for us,” Arthur said, without enthusiasm.

  Rory frowned, realizing whose name he hadn’t heard. “Ling isn’t here?”

  Jade shook her head. “We opened the pomander at Niagara Falls and Arthur promptly vomited. We’re not sure it’s safe for someone without magic to even be around it.”

  Rory’s eyes widened. “But then what about Ace?”

  “I have your magic in my aura,” said Arthur. “Your relic-strengthened magic. Believe me, I’ve felt the difference. Your magic is protection.”

  Rory frowned but let it go.

  Another half mile of hiking, and Jade led them to a small clearing. Sasha and Zhang were speaking quietly together while Pavel bent over a silver bowl, a stream of lavender smoke dancing above it—directly above it, and not blowing away, despite the breeze.

  Rory’s skin broke out in goose bumps.

  Arthur cursed softly. “That already
looks more impressive than the attempt the three of us made.”

  Pavel looked up, his pupils so blown his light brown eyes were swallowed in black. Rory tagged behind Arthur as he walked toward Pavel and the potion. When he was about two feet away, Arthur crouched on the ground and set the briefcase in the dirt. He opened the lid, revealing dull brass that caught the grayish sunlight.

  Rory grimaced. The snuffer wasn’t a reminder of anything good, and even the sight made his skin crawl. “I don’t think I should touch it again.”

  “No,” said Zhang quietly, as he and Sasha came over to join them. “Probably not.”

  Pavel picked up the snuffer, and closed his eyes as his hands traveled over the brass.

  “What’s he doing?” Rory whispered to Sasha, as Arthur straightened up.

  “Looking for ashes or wax residue,” Sasha whispered back. “His alchemy won’t work on just the metal.”

  Pavel traced his finger inside the snuffer, then set it to the side. He rubbed his index and thumb together over the potion, and the smoke hovering over the bowl deepened, the wispy lavender becoming a more solid-looking royal purple.

  There was a soft nudge in Rory’s side.

  “Here.” Sasha held out an open pocketknife, the blade a brilliant silver. “Left palm, across the lifeline.”

  Beside Rory, Arthur stiffened.

  Right. They needed to add Rory’s blood to the potion.

  ’Cause that wasn’t creepy at all.

  He took the knife and stepped to Pavel’s side. Pavel reached down to touch the potion, swirling the liquid gently, and changing shades of purple followed his finger like he was painting.

  Well, Rory babbled nonsense when he was deep in his magic. He wasn’t judging.

  “Now,” Pavel whispered.

  Rory clenched his teeth against any sound and drew the knife over his palm. Blood welled instantly in the cut, and the atmosphere in the clearing seemed to thicken.

  As the blood dripped off his palm and down into the bowl, color rippled out, transforming the potion an intense purple that was nearly black. Tiny bubbles broke the surface, like a cold boil.

  Rory fought down a shiver. He could practically taste the magic on his tongue, heavy and metallic like a mouthful of pennies. “Anyone else feel it?” he said quietly.

  “No,” said Zhang. “That’s your subordinate magic. And why it’s your blood.”

  Sasha moved close to her brother. “It’s ready.”

  Rory stepped back, shaking out his hand. To his surprise, Arthur suddenly caught it, and held up gauze. “Jade came prepared,” he said in a whisper. “Are you all right?”

  Rory nodded, letting Arthur wrap and tie the gauze. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Jade pulled the pomander’s box out of a bag, her face set against the sting of the lead.

  She set the box on the ground next to the potion’s bowl and with obvious reluctance, opened it.

  The overpowering stench of rotting flowers swept over them. “Ugh, it’s like the world’s largest, most terrible tea ball,” Jade ground out, as next to Rory, Arthur gagged, bending forward at the waist and turning away.

  Rory could’ve sworn more of his magic bolted down the link. “Ace, you okay?” he asked worriedly, putting a hand on Arthur’s back.

  It took Arthur a few moments, but finally he waved a hand weakly. “Copacetic, as you say.” He straightened, still looking unsettlingly pale as Pavel picked the pomander up, out of its box, and dropped it in.

  For a moment, nothing happened.

  Then the potion suddenly roiled, leaping to the edges of the bowl. Rory sucked in a breath and watched as it got higher, and higher—and then suddenly, a crack split the air. An enormous puff of smoke burst forth from the bowl like a dragon’s belch, far more than the bowl should have been able to hold, enough to flood the clearing and make Rory cough.

  As the purple smoke began to disappear up into the sky, Rory hurried to the bowl.

  His heart dropped.

  The pomander was sitting in the middle of the now-empty bowl, not a scratch to be seen, and the smell was as choking as ever.

  “It did not work,” Sasha said quietly.

  Chapter Nine

  On Thursday, back in Manhattan, Arthur met Jade and Zhang for lunch at the Dragon House. There were egg rolls and chicken with soft noodles waiting as they sat at the circular table in the private room.

  He eyed his chopsticks as he picked up a fork. One of these days, he was going to learn, but it was difficult to find the patience to practice when the food looked this good. “How is Pavel doing? No relapse since he put the lodestone back on?”

  “I spoke to him this morning and I’m very happy to say he’s doing wonderfully.” Jade deftly wielded her own chopsticks as the teapot floated into the air and refilled her cup. “Where’s Rory?”

  “Two blocks over, getting a suit,” said Arthur. “We’re leaving for Boston tomorrow so he can go to Mrs. Brodigan’s wedding.”

  Jade raised an eyebrow. “You’re not attending?”

  “There didn’t seem to be a way to explain why she’d invite a customer,” Arthur reluctantly admitted. “I had thought perhaps I could sneak in when she was going to get married at City Hall, but we got a telegram yesterday that she’s having it in a Back Bay church.”

  Jade tilted her head. “Why are you frowning about that?”

  Arthur made a face. “I suppose because I’m being ridiculous. I never thought she’d be the type to have an expensive second wedding, but she’s a devout Catholic, so perhaps I should have. I just didn’t expect it, that’s all, and these days I don’t much care for anything I don’t expect.”

  He picked up a pork bun from the steamer basket. “Rory did agree to bring the Tempest Ring and use it if there’s any danger. And I’m going to Boston with him, if not the wedding itself.”

  Jade put her hand on her chin. “You, in Boston?”

  “It’s been known to happen,” Arthur said.

  “I thought you despised Boston because of baseball,” she said. “In fact, I seem to recall you once said you wouldn’t be caught dead within fifty miles of Fenway Park.”

  He had said that. “Was that me?” he said innocently. “Surely that doesn’t sound like me.”

  She grinned. “Boston’s not where we’re worried about danger, at any rate. It’s Philly.”

  “Rory said that before Hyde killed her, the dream reader paranormal, Miss Shelley, sent a telegram to Baron Zeppler,” Zhang said. “We don’t know what was in the telegram, but we should probably assume Shelley told Zeppler everything they had discovered about Rory—his psychometry, his address, his association with the three of us.”

  “But that was the last Zeppler likely heard,” said Arthur. “Because Miss Shelley was murdered, and Hyde incapacitated, and Sebastian de Leon ran off to London with Gwen and Ellis. Instead of gaining a psychometric and a relic, Zeppler lost three henchmen that night. He must be looking for answers.”

  “Somehow I doubt he’ll come to America himself,” Jade said grimly. “After all, why directly attack when others can take all the risks for you? And it’s one thing to prey on a lone subordinate paranormal, quite another to start a fight when he knows Rory is now tied to several other paranormals in New York. He may be looking for a back door instead of a confrontation.”

  Arthur pursed his lips. “What are my chances of getting Rory to agree to hide?”

  “Oh, somewhere between zero and zero,” Zhang said dryly.

  “But what if I suggested the Caribbean? We’re trying to destroy a Spanish pomander—let’s look for an answer in the places that speak Spanish.”

  Zhang looked at Jade. “San Juan?” he said hopefully. “Havana?”

  “As enticing as the Caribbean sounds,” she said, “there’s a world’s fair in Paris.”

  But the
y couldn’t take Rory to Paris. Arthur stared at his fork. He wasn’t so selfish he’d risk the world so he didn’t have to be alone, but the thought of leaving Rory an ocean behind made his chest ache.

  Jade exchanged another look with Zhang. “There is perhaps one more option,” she said slowly. “But don’t get mad.”

  “Well, that’s ominous,” Arthur muttered.

  “We go to London and find Gwen.”

  Arthur’s eyebrows flew up. “You’re not serious—no, I can see that you are. Why on earth would we do that?”

  “She saved your lives,” Jade pointed out. “And she wants the same things we want: Baron Zeppler out of commission and the pomander neutralized.”

  “Her solution to dealing with a relic that enslaves non-magic minds is to bind it to another paranormal and thereby unlock its powers,” said Arthur. “I’m afraid I’m going to object from the bottom of my non-magic heart.”

  “So we leave the pomander here, in New York.” Zhang leaned forward. “When you were on that ship, you met that other paranormal, Sebastian de Leon, the one who seemed to know something about relics. Do you remember what he said to you?”

  Arthur wasn’t likely to forget it. “That the question I should be asking wasn’t what did he know about relics, but why did I know anything about them. Why they were suddenly being found again after being buried for four hundred years.”

  “And he was on the ocean liner to London with Gwen and Ellis, right?” said Zhang. “Maybe he’s still there.”

  Arthur sat back in his seat. “But London is close to Paris.”

  “None of us are going to take Rory to Paris, or anywhere else we suspect Zeppler might haunt,” said Jade. “And I don’t think Gwen would give Rory to Zeppler, if for no other reason than Zeppler could pluck history straight from Rory’s mind. She might even help us protect him.”

  Arthur chewed his lip. “Zeppler uses henchmen. Rory himself would be safer if he stayed on this side of the Atlantic.”

  “And I’m sure your family said the same thing when you went to war,” she said softly. “Sometimes we don’t get to decide that the people we care about will stay safe. Pavel decided trying to destroy the pomander was worth risking his mind. Leaving America should be Rory’s decision.”