The Strange Round Bird: Or the Poet, the King, and the Mysterious Men in Black

by Eden Unger Bowditch

  Jasper, once again, began to investigate Wallace’s coin. He wanted to take a sample that he could view through the microscope, but that was proving hard. He turned to the prism, the Bunsen burner, and the glass tube he had been using to conduct a spectroscopic experiment. Odd, he thought. He was unable to take a scraping of the coin, and heating it did very little, merely changing the color of the flame from yellow to violet.

  Wallace looked over and sat up. “Indium,” he said. “I suggest we have the presence of indium in that coin.” But the coin was not yet near the flame, yet had changed on its own.

  Jasper moved his arm away from the burner. The coin turned from violet back to yellow.

  Wallace noticed, too. “Does that mean there is indium in your bracelet?”

  “Who would use indium in a bracelet?” asked Jasper. “Lucy, would you come here?”

  “Don’t set my bracelet on fire, Jasper,” she warned, hesitant as she approached the boys. “I’d rather not have a flaming bracelet, nor do I want you to make it sooty.” She was over at the table where Wallace and Jasper had been working.

  After promising they would not light it on fire, Lucy allowed them to look at her bracelet. Like Jasper’s, her bracelet had to be observed while still on her wrist since there was no visible means of removing it. Only once in their lives had the bracelets been removed. That was when they suddenly found themselves on a train in America. Their parents had disappeared in the night, along with their bracelets.

  “Please don’t hurt me, Jasper,” Lucy said quietly.

  “I promise I won’t,” said Jasper.

  Placing the bracelet (and Lucy’s arm) under the microscope, Jasper tugged at one of the charms, pulling it away from her wrist as far as the bracelet would allow. He then applied a pinpoint heat to the odd-shaped charms. The bracelet did not seem to get hot but, strangely, it did change the color of the flame. Lucy moved her hand and yelped.

  “I’m so sorry, Lucy. Did I hurt you? Did it burn?” Jasper reached for his sister’s hand. He felt awful.

  “No,” she said, looking up at Wallace with a scowl. “Your coin bit me.”

  Lucy pointed at Wallace’s coin, which was sitting on the table next to the microscope. After she touched it, it had sent a charge of electricity through her arm.

  “I’m sorry, Lucy,” Wallace said earnestly. He looked at Jasper. “She’s right. It did react. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed this. I discovered that in Italy. There is some kind of magnetism, some magnetic pull, between the bracelets and the coin. And, I believe,” he added, looking over at Faye, still deep in thought at the window, “some pull with Faye’s amulet as well.”

  Inside the Mena House, the Locke Kings explained to Noah that they had done much of the reconstruction work on the hotel themselves. While they had kept the pasha’s hunting lodge as the base and renovated the smaller hotel it had become in the 1880s, they had also built secret passages into it. Noah followed them back through one winding passageway that secretly led them to a grand hallway in the hotel. This hallway, however, was not empty.

  “How did you get here?” Noah had quite a start, finding the mysterious brother in black standing guard outside the door as they stepped into the hallway.

  Noah and the brothers in black followed the Locke Kings. This next hallway was wider and the ceiling high, resplendent with beautiful vases, sculptures, and paintings, but only a few doors were located along the wall. Clearly, these were the grandest rooms in the hotel.

  They came to a gorgeous ornately carved door with inlay of camel bone and mother of pearl. Of course, Noah thought, his mother had been given the grandest suite of them all. But when Noah reached for the handle, he saw splinters of wood on the carpet. Hugh had only to touch the door and it swung open with a screech.

  It looked as if a tornado had ripped through the place. A chair had been tossed into the fireplace. The beautiful glasswork was in shatters, the paintings torn from the walls, the bedclothes pulled from the mattress that was, in turn, pulled off the grand frame. Everything was tossed about.

  “How…” Hugh began.

  “Someone has been through her things!” cried Ethel. “But it is impossible.”

  Noah picked up a broken lamp. One of his mother’s shoes lay beneath it. He remembered those shoes from Paris. She had a dress that matched. Something else caught his eye. Next to the shoe was a gem. It was not one of her jewels, but a metal bead of some kind. It looked like something from a costume. He put the bead in his pocket.

  “But our workers…we know them so well.” Ethel was shaking her head in disbelief.

  “It wasn’t one of our people, my love. But I think I know who it could have been. The new fellow in housecleaning,” said Hugh, remembering. “That short man with the odd moustache. Rashida, the housekeeper, said he disappeared shortly after arriving this morning. One day of work and he disappears?”

  “Yes,” said Ethel, “I was going to say something. I found him rather rude. I was surprised you hired him.”

  “Me?” Hugh was surprised. “I thought you hired him.”

  “Me?” Ethel, too, was surprised. “Not me.”

  “Clever devil,” said Hugh. “Rashida said he asked questions about the guests and which rooms were in use. She told him he should mind his own business, so he asked others. He was very pushy with the other help and, yet, did very little work himself. Rashida said that when the flowers arrived for your mother, the fellow took them from Samir, the bellboy.”

  “The nerve of him,” said Ethel, knowing how important tips (bakeesh) are for the bellboys.

  “Indeed,” agreed Hugh. “He told Samir to run along and that he would be bringing them to your mother’s room. Samir was upset and told Rashida. Such action is highly irregular, especially for a new worker to impose himself like that. I meant to speak with the fellow, but he never came back. It must have been him. He must have broken into the room.”

  “What kind of odd moustache?” asked Noah.

  “Well, it seemed to be so large and so well groomed. It is unusual for someone in his position to wear such a thing.” Hugh gave a twirl to his own moustache. “I wondered if it had been, well, enhanced with extra hair. I know that seems crazy, but it did run through my mind that it was a fake.”

  “Do you know who that could have been?” asked Ethel, looking intently at Noah.

  “I …” Noah stopped himself. “No, I simply found the moustache interesting.”

  “What could he have been looking for?” asked Hugh, looking around at the upturned chaise longue and broken pieces of vase among the wilted flowers strewn about the floor. Ariana’s things had all been pulled from her trunks and many torn to shreds. The lining of the trunks, too, had been ripped from their frames.

  “Could it have been her necklace?” Ethel was wondering aloud more than asking anyone in particular.

  “It is worth a fortune and is famous to those who know of your mother,” said Hugh. “It is a rare and beautiful thing, that piece.”

  “Yes, one of a kind,” added Ethel.

  Is that what Komar Romak was after? What if we discover she didn’t have it? What will happen to her then?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A BOY AND THE PAST

  OR

  NOAH’S HOTEL TALE

  Noah went immediately to his father’s room. Ralph had been sleeping at the foot of the bed.

  “Thanks, my friend,” said Noah, rubbing Ralph behind the ears.

  Miss Brett was sitting in the corner, reading by the light of a small lamp. “I’m so glad you’re back, Noah.”

  “Have you been here the whole time?” he asked.

  “I’ve been here quite a bit, but so have the brothers.” Miss Brett stood and felt Dr. Canto-Sagas’s forehead. She shook her head with worry.

  “Has he said anything?” asked Noah, hopeful.

  “Not yet, though I am sure he will,” Miss Brett said, sitting back in her chair. “You go see the others. I…I’m at a really g
ood part in the book.”

  She smiled and returned to her reading. Noah didn’t believe her for a moment. She was just granting him leave to go about his business. He went over and hugged her before leaving to find the others.

  Before she knew what she was doing, Faye flung her arms around Noah as he came through the door. Noah didn’t see it coming, so he walked head first into the hug. Faye quickly jumped back, blushing and trying to act as if she had not just done the very thing she did.

  “Well, I’m happy to see you, too, Lady Faye,” said Noah.

  “Lucy was worried about you,” Faye blurted out, pulling back and straightening her skirts.

  “We all were,” said Jasper, who awkwardly put an arm around Noah’s shoulder. Jasper could not understand why his face felt hot when Faye had thrown her arms around Noah. Somewhere in the pit of his stomach, something did a flip. He had wanted to hug Noah, too. But it felt strange when Faye did it.

  “Well, nothing to worry about,” said Noah, looking at Faye. “None of you.”

  “I beg to differ,” said Wallace. “There is much we have to worry about since—”

  “I mean about me,” said Noah. “I’m fine. And I found out a few things I want you to know.”

  “Us, too,” said Lucy.

  It was a chilly evening at the castle. They repaired to the small den near Mr. Bell’s office where a fire and a tray of biscuits, sandwiches, small cakes, and honeyed nuts had been left for them. Noah realized he was starving. He hadn’t noticed how hungry he was until now. He put a whole sandwich in his mouth and grabbed another.

  Faye smiled to herself. Noah seemed to be more himself. Instead of being annoyed, she was truly pleased to see that funny ginger head on top of that kinetic, gangly body stuffing food into that ridiculously grinning mouth.

  “Right,” said Lucy, climbing into Noah’s lap, taking a cake from his hands, and eating it herself. “Let’s see what we know about anything.”

  With Noah there, they felt like all their pieces might come together. There was a map. There was a plan. They would be able to find her. They must. Noah glanced over at the photo that had arrived after her disappearance. Mr. Bell kept it on his desk. Yes, they were putting together a plan.

  Faye poured another cup of tea. They had a lot of puzzle pieces to put in place.

  “What we do know,” Faye began, “is that our parents, Mr. Bell, and the mysterious men in black all know what this thing is. It is something that King Suleiman found hundreds of years ago. We know someone or something called ‘Il Magna’ is involved and has something to do with Komar Romak.”

  “Il Magna must be of extreme value,” said Wallace.

  “Perhaps it is an enormous thing made of gold,” said Noah.

  “And all clues point to Il Magna going back ages,” said Faye. “It can’t be a person. He’d be dead long before now.”

  Wallace considered. “It might be someone who did something or had something or—”

  “It’s the mustache of the vizier who didn’t want to help,” said Lucy.

  “The mustache didn’t want to help?” asked Noah.

  “No, it’s the other one,” insisted Lucy, “and they were both them and they did it and made everyone sad about it, except themselves.”

  “What?” Noah looked to Jasper for help.

  “The mustache and the other one, of course,” said Lucy. “It’s like they all are and then they make it not what it is.”

  “Lucy, please, no one understands what you are saying.” Jasper tried to keep any hint of annoyance out of his voice.

  “Very well. If you don’t understand the words I use for myself, then ask me your own questions about things you want me to give you.” Lucy was in more than a huff, thoroughly fed up with being misunderstood.

  Jasper imagined the endless grilling needed to draw something understandable from Lucy’s formidable mind. She could remember everything. But knowing what she remembered was a different story. “Lucy, how can we ask questions first if we don’t know anything yet?” he asked.

  Lucy harrumphed.

  “All right, then,” said Jasper, who knew he was getting nowhere. “Lucy, can you tell us what you mean about ‘the moustache and the other’ and…what you said?”

  “The pretend beard and mustache were hiding his Komar Romak half-moustache and the other one, too,” she said slowly. “It wasn’t just the Rustem fellow who came to Suleiman. There were two.”

  Noah sat up. “Suleiman’s advisor? That’s who you mean? You said he arrived from the Ukraine with another boy,” he said, wiping his hands on his shirt and going over Faye’s notes. “So the one fellow came to advise the queen and the other became the vizier, and then Suleiman’s son-in-law. Unfortunately, it is very likely that Rüstem Pasha Opuković …”

  Noah looked at the name, Rüstem Pasha Opuković. Yes, Rüstem Kovic…Komar Romak…like Reginald Roderick Kattaning…they all seemed to be almost like iterations, or pseudonyms, or plays on the words…Komar Romak. “What was the name of the boy who came with Rüstem Pasha Opuković?”

  “There was only one mention,” said Wallace. “What was it, Lucy?”

  “Wallace asked first,” said Lucy, huffing a bit at her brother, who opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. “There is only a quick mention of Kotlic Moklutuk Ram. It didn’t really say much, but they called him Kor. Everyone seemed to have lots of names back then. Apparently, he was an adviser to Suleiman’s wife. Kor.”

  “Yes, it must have been that Kor—Kotlic Moklutuk Ram and Rüstem Pasha Opuković—were really Komar Romak,” said Wallace, “and Rüstem Pasha was there when Suleiman’s son was killed. He was the vizier, supposedly the adviser to Suleiman. But then Suleiman left Rüstem Pasha Opuković behind when he went to war. It doesn’t make sense for a ruler to go to war without his advisor. In fact, he took his daughter away from Rustem, her husband, because she hated the fellow. There was something about the man—something wrong, something bad.”

  “Hmmm, perhaps he was an evil monster,” suggested Noah.

  “Maybe,” said Lucy, “there is a place where it just says The Nefarious Kor.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” asked Jasper.

  “Because no one asked and it was written in writing, not printing,” Lucy said. “Someone wrote it. The Nefarious Kor. Nefarious is bad, right?”

  “Yes, it is,” said Jasper. “What if the Nefarious Kor betrayed Suleiman? Perhaps he was the one who tricked Suleiman into killing his favorite son.”

  “Did they know each other, Suleiman and the poet, Muhabi?” said Faye. “Muhabi must have been part of the royal household.”

  “Of course, that must be it. They were probably close. Maybe Muhabi was a confidant of the king.” Noah was looking at the pages he had copied from Sir Edward’s book.

  “It sounds like Suleiman was a fan of poets.” Wallace was looking over his shoulder.

  “And they each had a beloved wife who died,” said Faye. “I’m sure they shared their heartbreak.”

  “Komar Romak was trying to topple an empire,” Noah said aloud. “The lair—the secret, evil lair—must be somewhere in this city.”

  “This map you seem to have found,” Wallace said, now looking at the notes Noah brought, “indicates that it must be here, in Cairo. How can we find it? You think it could help us find the Komar Romak lair and your mother?”

  “Pamina said—”

  “Who?” they asked in unison.

  “Never mind. We just need to find this fellow, Corlyss Swayne—”

  “Who?” they again asked in unison.

  “He is some kind of map expert. He may lead us to the map we want, assuming anyone can. He might even have the secret map that the poet and the king both refer to. It seems to be our only clue and one we can follow.”

  “And how do we find this man?” asked Faye.

  “Well,” said Noah, pulling his calling cards from a pocket, “it’s a bit complicated.”

  CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

  THE DEN OF CORLYSS SWAYNE

  OR

  HOW NOAH GETS WORD

  “It’s the map that we believe will lead us to my mother,” Noah said with cold insistence. “I am going to find it. I am going.”

  “I see that,” Mr. Bell said with a firm calmness that did not allow for contradiction. “You must be accompanied by at least two of the brothers.”

  “Noah, please. Great care must be taken,” said Miss Brett. “I am so worried about you wandering in the Khan at night, so late.”

  “He shall not be alone,” Mr. Bell assured Miss Brett.

  Noah looked at the others and nodded. They had always assumed this would be the case. They would not be allowed to leave without the brothers.

  “Very well, Mr. Bell. Miss Brett. But please,” Noah said, with all the authority he could muster, “the brothers must remain at a distance. I have one chance to find the map maker. Corlyss Swayne does not seem willing to see anyone. I cannot afford to make him nervous or suspicious.”

  Mr. Bell looked directly at Noah. He nodded before he spoke. “Yes, we understand.”

  Mr. Bell turned and nodded towards the door. Three brothers in black entered the room. Two were young acolytes in black galabayas. The third looked like a Spanish dancer in black satin trousers and a short black bolero jacket with lace at the wrist. They exchanged no spoken words—just simple nods—and the brothers in black were gone.

  “I assure you,” said Mr. Bell, “we will take care to send them without their hats. Mr. Canto-Sagas, there will be a carriage for you. It will leave you at the Khan and be waiting to take you back. Who will be going?”

  “I will,” said Noah.

  “Jasper and I will go, too,” said Faye. “Wallace and Lucy will stay.”