“I’m glad you’re here,” I said as he docked.
“Yes, when I’m on deliveries I get them done quickly so my afternoons are free.” He laughed. “I see you’re back to your regular attire.” He lifted a canvas tarp off a wooden box. “I have a surprise for you.”
I heard her even before I saw what he was uncovering. “Sera!” I called, bouncing on my toes. She shrieked even more loudly at the sound of my voice. Khan lifted her out and handed her to me. I felt the familiar warmth radiating through my chest when I held her. She had her hood on. I stroked her feathers and she responded with her ki-ki-ki-kee.
“Thank you, Khan. Thank you so much. How is my father?”
“I couldn’t get inside. I recognized his friend Jeremiah Thorn outside the shop. He told me your father is hiding out in the basement permanently now.”
I pouted. Are they bringing him food and water? Is he taking care of himself?
“Jeremiah gave me a parcel from your father, and I found this attached to Seraphine’s leg. What is it?” He held up a small metal tube.
“My father and I trained Seraphine to carry secret notes. Sometimes he’d send her to the Works to find me. She’s an incredible tracker.” As I spoke, I removed Seraphine’s hood and tossed her up into the air. She flew in ever-higher circles. I shielded my eyes to watch until she disappeared into the dusky orange-streaked sky.
Khan handed me a packet wrapped in brown paper, and the tube. His eyes were warm. “Remember when I saw her circling the Tombs? She must have been tracking you then.”
“Yes! Of course.” I nodded. Popping open the tube, I saw a piece of rolled-up paper. It always amazed me that my father could write in such tiny letters.
The note simply said M.T.Y.L.T.T. I smiled. Even in the midst of pandemonium, he remembered. “It means he loves me ‘more than yesterday, less than tomorrow.’ It’s engraved on my timepiece—see?” I showed Khan the back.
Next I unwrapped the parcel. Inside was another note, wrapped around a little clock. This one was written in our secret code. I deciphered it for Khan.
Hi, Buttercup,
Khan relayed incident at Ironworks. Sorry about Malice, even if he was a mean old curmudgeon. Wherever you are, stay put. Crows out in force. Don’t worry—men keep me well hidden while I complete my finest project. I promise I will get us out of here.
Love,
Your sober father
PS: Found this clock while clearing out shop, remembered it was your favorite.
At one inch tall, the marvel I held was the tiniest grandfather clock in the world, complete with a swinging split pea–sized pendulum behind a little glass door. My father once told me he’d made it for the mouse that lived in the shop. My throat tightened, and the feeling spread into my chest. Father’s clearing out the shop. Is this the last clock, then? I held it to my ear. Tick-tock, tick-tock.
I didn’t understand why my father still made promises to me, promises I knew he couldn’t keep. He was so caught up in his big project that he could not see how bad things really were. Maybe it was Father’s way of coping, but I was through with living in denial. I swallowed hard, folded the paper around the clock, and tucked it into my pocket.
Khan cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “I missed you last night, Little Bird.” He took my hand. “Were you all right staying here?”
“Of course. Please don’t worry.” I smiled up at him. “But I missed you, too.”
Khan looked around the camp, his brows drawing together. “Wow, there’s little left for me to do. Looks sort of sad without the colorful tents.”
Mr. Moralis walked out onto the dock. Khan released my hand to shake his. “Horatio reported back this afternoon,” Mr. Moralis said. “There’s a search under way for the missing guards. Now that you’re here, we’re planning to revive the one we have.”
As we followed Mr. Moralis, Khan told me the Works had reopened. “I spoke with Tony. The police could not find a body, so for now that foreman you dislike—what do you call him?”
“Scarface.”
“Right, Scarface. He’s running things. Apparently he asked Tony where you and Geeno had gotten off to. Tony played dumb.”
“Khan, I forgot to tell you, but when I was getting Geeno out of the factory, I saw three numbers on the wall with dashes between them: eight, thirteen, and twenty-one. What do you suppose they are?”
“Could be the combination to a safe. Most businesses have a safe to protect important papers from fire. I know Mr. Englis has one with a combination lock on it. It’d be foolish to put the numbers on the wall, though.” He chuckled.
“Hmm, that must be it. Mr. Malice had a safe in the perch. This sounds strange, but I feel like Mr. Malice was trying to tell me something. Maybe it has to do with the safe.”
Khan snorted. “Nothing about you surprises me anymore, Avery. Now you’re telling me Mr. Malice reached out to you from beyond?”
I scrunched up my face. “My goodness, you’re right. Please, forget I said that.”
We arrived at one of the few caravans left. Unlike the others, this one had bars on the windows and a heavy steel door. Two burly men stood by the entrance, smoking cigarettes. They stepped aside as we approached. Katalina and Hurricane were waiting by the steps. I was pleased to see that Katalina held Hurricane’s hand. Hurricane worshipped her so.
Mr. Moralis stared directly at Katalina. “Let us hear the man out. Do not do anything rash.”
“Rash? Do not slit his throat, you mean?” Katalina swiped her finger across her neck.
I winked at Hurricane and she beamed back at me. I thought Katalina was joking, but apparently her father did not think so. He held out his hand, asking her wordlessly for her knife.
The herb doctor stepped outside. “The salts worked. He is ready to speak with you. I must go finish packing up the apothecary.”
The guard stood up shakily when he saw us. He had a crimson line around his neck where the other guard had tried to strangle him with a cord. He eyed Katalina warily. Mr. Moralis spoke first. “What is your name?”
“Nelson Lemming, sir.”
“I am Mr. Moralis. I believe you’ve met Miss Kohl.” He extended his hand toward the others. “My daughter, Miss Moralis; Mr. Soliman; and Miss Hurricane. Do you understand why your presence here has caused such turmoil, Mr. Lemming?”
“I believe so.” He took a few steps back and wrung his hands together. “I’ve heard about the boy that was taken from your camp, and is being held at the Tombs.”
Katalina flew across the room. “That is my baby brother, you imbecile. Do you know what they did to him? Do you?” If her father hadn’t disarmed her, Nelson Lemming might’ve had a knife in his heart. She screamed in his face, “They branded him like cattle! How do we know you were not there, hiding behind your crow mask?”
The guard held up his arm. “I wasn’t! It wasn’t me!”
“Enough, Katalina.” Mr. Moralis guided her back to a bunk and sat her down. “If this is too emotional for you . . .”
She shook her head. “No. I want to stay. I want to hear what he has to say.”
Hurricane sat next to her, and I next to Hurricane. Khan stood by the door. Mr. Moralis continued, “You said you want to help. How do we know we can trust you?”
Nelson Lemming shook his head. “Just let me go. I swear I won’t tell a soul. I’ll leave the city. Whatever you want.”
Hurricane whispered to me, “Avery, see his aura. Focus as hard as you can.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, but my mind was a whirlwind. Just seeing the guard again made my head buzz. Hurricane took my hands. She whispered, “Use your breath, in, out, nice and slow. Calm your mind.”
“All right.” I lowered my shoulders, relaxed my breathing, and focused on each breath in and each breath out. As random thoughts popped into my head, I pictured them floating away on a river. Soon my mind felt calmer. I slowly opened my eyes and saw the room with my second sight. As I looked around, I rea
lized all of us were highly charged, our auras various shades of gray. I relaxed my breathing again, and my own energy became infused with pure white light. I pushed that light toward Nelson Lemming.
He glanced at me with a strange expression, and I saw snippets of his life. I saw his dog Bojangles again. I saw his fear of Dr. Spector, of the other guards. I saw the argument he’d had with the dead guard. “What they’re doing is wrong,” he’d said. “We have to get out now, before it’s too late.” I saw the other guard turn on him, punch him, call him a traitor, wrap a steel cord around his neck.
As he continued to look at me, his aura changed, softened, lightened. He let out his breath as if he’d been holding it and sat down. “I do want to help.” He glanced up at Mr. Moralis. “I can’t rightly explain it. I’m ashamed of some things I done, but it’s not just that. I can’t be a part of what they’re doing anymore.” His eyes met mine. “There are bad things going on in the Tombs. I was going to leave, if Jason hadn’t tried to kill me. I’m not a religious man, but I believe this here happened for a reason. Please, let me help.”
I nodded. I accepted that he’d changed. I’d seen it happen with my own eyes. “I believe him,” I said, and whispered to Hurricane, “It worked this time. Maybe because he was already trying to change. Thank you.”
Hurricane squeezed my hand. “Well done.”
Mr. Moralis looked at Katalina; she nodded, as did Khan. “All right, Mr. Lemming. We are choosing to trust you, because we need your help.” Bending over so that his face was closer, he lowered his voice. “If you lie to us, you endanger our lives. I will not kill you, but I swear this: You will find yourself bound and gagged and on the next freighter to Romania, where you will be imprisoned in a work camp for the rest of your life. You will wish you were dead. Am I perfectly clear?” I hadn’t heard Mr. Moralis use that tone before, or imagined such a threat. It made me wonder how many others among the Gypsies’ enemies had met a similar fate.
Lemming shifted in his seat. “Yes, sir.”
Crossing his arms, Mr. Moralis took a step back. “Good. Tell us everything you know about the Tombs.”
Lemming cleared his throat. “The Tombs started out as a hospital for the criminally insane, an adjunct to the prison. The lower levels were abandoned because of water problems—flooding, you know. But just before the end of the Civil War, Dr. Spector reopened them. I was a prison guard at the time. Some of us were transferred, given different uniforms, told the mask was important because of the type of work Spector was doing. And we had to sign a vow of silence about anything going on at the Tombs.”
In a lower voice, Lemming said, “Dr. Spector takes folks like your mother into the lab.” He wrung his hands together. “I hear terrible screaming. He’s performing some kind of experimentation. I’d have quit sooner, but I need the money.” His eyes slid to the floor. “I’m sorry. I stood by and paid no heed.” His voice strained as he tried to get the words right. “But I couldn’t stand it anymore. I . . . I told Jason. I thought he was a friend, but when I told him it wasn’t right, what Spector was doing, well, you already know what he did.”
Khan took a step closer. “What kind of experiments is Spector doing with them?”
Lemming shifted again as Khan took another step in his direction. “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I swear, I don’t know.”
Khan bowed his head and pressed his palm to his forehead in frustration.
My knees felt weak and my breath was shallow, as if I were breathing through a thin tube. I was glad I was sitting down. Khan handed me his handkerchief. “Avery, are you all right?”
I dabbed the perspiration from my neck. “I need some air.” I walked over to the door and stuck my head out, inhaling cold air deep into my lungs. I turned back. “I have to get my mother out of there, Mr. Lemming. Please. Can you think of a way to get her out?”
“And Indigo!” Katalina added.
Before I could think better of it, I said, “And we must find a way to stop Spector.”
Khan stared at me as if I’d gone mad.
I clutched my hands to my chest. “He’s taking children off the streets.”
“The place is a fortress,” Lemming said, “and they’ve increased security after you got away. You’ll never get back in.” He rubbed his chin again. “Spector rarely leaves anymore; the only time I know of for sure will be for the All Hallows’ Eve masquerade.”
Mr. Moralis exchanged a look with Khan. “What is this masquerade?”
“Spector’s benefactor is hosting it for his patrons.” Lemming looked up at us. “There’s big money backing Spector’s operation.”
“Do you know the names of any of these ‘big-money’ benefactors?” Mr. Moralis asked.
“No, but I see the fancy carriages that pull up for his meetings at the Tombs, and he pays better than any other boss I’ve ever had. I guess that’s why the guards never leave. He buys our loyalty—and our silence.”
Later, looking out over the home of the Gypsies, as it converted from a camp to a traveling caravan, I thought about our meeting with the guard. I’d wanted so badly to speak with him, but we’d not learned anything useful. And now I could not erase the image of my mother’s screaming as Dr. Spector took her into his lab.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Best Friend
Early the next day, since Khan and I had to retrieve some things from Geeno’s crate, I begged him to go with me by horseback instead of by boat. We borrowed two horses from the Gypsies and rode into the woods. The familiar swaying motion brought me back to happier days. I missed riding. We used to own a horse named Luna, a dapple-gray mare. I’d ride her whenever Father didn’t have her hitched to a cart delivering clocks or hauling stuff from the salvage yards. I remembered the smell of her when she’d rub her soft muzzle on my face, like sweet hay and sunshine. Father had sold Luna, along with most of our fine possessions, when we’d fled Brooklyn Heights to hide in the slums.
We cleared the trees; my horse began to trot. Misty morning light blanketed the flatlands. I eased from a posting to a swinging motion and transitioned her to a canter.
“Race?” I challenged.
Khan grinned. “You’re on.”
I leaned forward, lifting from the saddle, my weight in my heels. My horse lengthened her stride, picking up speed. The hood of my cloak flew back. I glanced sideways, to see Khan gaining on me.
Just then I heard Seraphine’s shrill cry and looked up to see her soaring through the sky above. “I’m coming!” I leaned further forward, spurring my horse on. It was as if she’d been waiting for me to ask. Faster and faster she ran, the wide-open field calling her. The cloak whipped behind me. Hooves thundered the ground; sweat glossed her flanks. I was flying, the closest to Seraphine I’d ever been.
My face flushed. At the edge of the field I eased the mare back to a walk and tilted my face toward the sun.
“Whew, I needed that,” I told Khan as he caught up to me.
“Yeah, me too. Except the losing part.” He laughed. “Avery, I have a confession to make.” I turned sideways to face him. He tilted his head. There was a solemn yearning in his warm amber eyes. “I miss the old days, too—when you and I were young and we thought we would always be together.”
Warmth spread through my chest. Impulsively, we reached out and held hands, our horses trudging along, cooling down. I took everything in—the trees, bright red and orange; the clod of the horse’s hooves on the earth; the contrast of the warm sun and crisp air; the tingle in my hand where it touched Khan’s.
We neared the edge of Brooklyn proper and let go before someone saw us. We had to find the Gypsies’ stable. At any other, we risked having the horses stolen, a common problem in these parts.
After turning over the reins to the stable hand, we worked our way through the crowded streets to Geeno’s crate in the industrial sector. We unlocked the back room, gathering my meager belongings and all of Geeno’s things. Then we carefully wrapped his insect jars in
newsprint. The only escapee seemed to be the partly mechanical mouse, which had chewed through his box and disappeared.
“Can you imagine the look on someone’s face,” I said, “if they find that particular rodent in their mousetrap?” I chuckled at the thought.
“I wish I could’ve seen it.” Khan looked at me with an awed expression. “A mouse? That’s unbelievable, Avery. These all are.”
We layered each wrapped jar in burlap to keep them extra safe, and Khan placed them in a large satchel. When we returned to Fulton Street, the bustling center of town, we peeked around to make sure the coast was clear. It wasn’t. Three crow-guards were heading straight for us. By their aggressive stride and the way they surveyed the street, I knew they were hunting. Hunting for me.
My throat constricted. A feeling of vertigo rushed over me.
Khan jumped into action. He ducked into a doorway, pulling me with him. Just as before, he pressed his body against mine and bowed his head. Khan was as immobile as the wooden door to my back. It grew eerily quiet around us, and even though it did not make sense, I felt as if we were no longer there. The guards marched by. Both the guards’ proximity and Khan’s flustered me.
We waited until they were gone, then bolted toward the stable.
We rode back to camp on edge. I’d begged Khan to teach me his special cloaking skill, but he assured me that, like my second sight, it was something he was born with. By the time we arrived, Mr. Moralis had sent the elders, along with most of the women and children, to safety. The rest of the men stayed behind to finish the work of moving.
As the sun dropped, so did the temperature. I rubbed my arms as we went over to the caravan where Katalina and her father stayed now. They’d spent the day further questioning Nelson Lemming. We did not want to set him free until we had all the information he could give us—especially true for Katalina, who did not want to release him at all.
It was Katalina who ushered us in. Hurricane sat at the table with Mr. Moralis, quietly peeling potatoes. She brightened when I smiled at her. Horatio and Lucas arrived a short while later. Khan gravely informed them of the crows we saw in town.
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