“Yes, dear, that is fine,” Rajesh Vigyanveta said gently to his wife. This seemed to relax his wife. But it had the opposite effect on Faye. This was the woman who had been one of the youngest, most powerful minds in science? That was before she married. What happened to her?
Noah looked up. He opened his mouth to correct Faye’s mother. But why bother? He knew the great Ariana could not have been a member of this childhood group. She was a chanteuse, an artist, not a scientist. But he had not known this about his father. This involved more than individual scientists, stolen from their lives. He and the other children were brought together because their parents were already part of something.
“Miss Bird was our teacher,” Dr. Tobias Modest said. “All of us. She taught Benjamin, Isobel, Clarence, Raj, Louisa, and N—”
“Louisa?” Noah said. “Who’s Louisa?”
“My mother,” Wallace said, adjusting his glasses and sticking his hand back into his pocket. “I mean, Louisa was my mother’s name.” He looked up at his father. “Father?”
“She was with you all, too?” Noah asked, eyebrows raised.
Dr. Banneker looked from Dr. Isobel to her husband, and then to the Drs. Vigyanveta. He looked at his son and the other children.
“She was a brilliant scientist,” Dr. Banneker said, a sadness in his voice. “And . . . well, yes, Louisa, your mother, we knew each other from the time we were—”
But he was cut short by the sound of pots and pans clanging loudly in the kitchen. There was a roar, like an angry bear, then a lot of clucking.
“Don’t you try that with me, you!” came Rosie’s voice. “I’ve put the right amount of ginger in the recipe and I shan’t have you adding your crazy numbers to it.”
“Madame,” came a retort, “there were only six pieces, and there were seven in the other batch. You cannot expect anyone to—”
“Thems were smaller pieces, Nikola. You get your interfering hands out of my pie. Saints preserve us.”
“Ah, yes, and Nikola,” said Dr. Tobias Modest, smiling as he spoke.
With a flourish and a stomp, the tapestry on the other side of the dining table flew back and, to the surprise of all the children, out stepped the very strange man they had met before the train exploded, and then in New York.
“Nikola Tesla?” Lucy said with surprise.
“He was your schoolmate?” Wallace adjusted his glasses.
“Well, Nikola was one of us, yes,” Dr. Rajesh Vigyanveta said. “Not a school chum, no.”
“Was I, Rajesh? So you no longer consider me a member of the fold? Am I no longer a mind worthy of your consort?” Nikola Tesla huffed his way past everyone and, after sweeping imaginary dust from the chair with his white handkerchief, seated himself stiffly across from Miss Bird by the fire.
“Nikki,” Dr. Banneker said soothingly, “you have always been one of us. We are honored you came to share the holiday with us here.”
“Hmph,” said Tesla, shimmying his feet in a shuffle, trying to turn away from them all the more.
Ariana, graceful as a ballerina, swept across the room and placed a hand on the back of Tesla’s chair.
“Nikola Tesla, your name reaches throughout the world of intellect, beyond the world of the mundane, into the mind of all who seek to understand the universe. Anyone who has come to know you must surely love to hear of your wondrous discoveries and inventions.” She smiled the dazzling smile that brought kingdoms to her performances. Nikola Tesla blushed and, inch by inch, toe by toe, moved his legs back around the chair so he was facing the room. She offered him her hand and, unlike with anyone else, he took that hand and, his pale face now pink, brought his lips within nanometers of her hand,
“That’s a good boy, Nikola,” said Miss Bird. “Don’t go sulking when there are so many people who want to play.”
“Miss Bird, for your information, I was not—”
“Always a bit huffy, that one. I never,” Miss Bird said, leaning aside to tell the others. “But what a genius.” She looked up at Miss Brett, who had moved closer to the fire. Miss Bird took Miss Brett’s hand. “You are so kind, dear, so caring with the children,” the old lady said, a twinkle in her kind eyes.
Miss Brett flushed and bent down to speak closely to Miss Bird. “You were the teacher of the children?” she asked.
“Oh, yes, I taught them, though sometimes I felt they were teaching me.”
“I know the feeling,” Miss Brett said, smiling.
The children exchanged looks among themselves.
“Well, it’ll be getting cold if yous aren’t at the table to eat it,” said Rosie, her hands on her hips. “Now.” She pointed toward the dining room.
“Yes, ma’am,” Dr. Banneker said, jumping up as if he had been scolded. Wallace could not help but smile to himself. His father was acting like a little boy. His big, strong, powerful father was, in some real way, scared of the nannies and Miss Bird.
Both Dr. Banneker and Dr. Modest helped Miss Bird from her chair and to the dining table. Dr. Canto-Sagas and his wife helped her into the seat at the head of the table, which Dr. Vigyanveta pulled out for her, and which Nikola Tesla dusted with his ever-present white handkerchief. The children watched as their parents fussed over the elderly lady. And the children, in turn, each imagined Miss Brett as an elderly lady, and how each of them would adore her and fuss over her.
“How I love roasted sweet potatoes,” Miss Bird said, and no sooner were the words from her lips than she found each of her boys trying not to burn his fingers on the hot sweet potatoes. “Stop this nonsense,” she said, taking the potato held by Dr. Canto-Sagas. “You sit and eat. And the lovely teacher, come sit by me, my dear. We have so much to share. On my left, dear, so I can see you with my better eye.”
Miss Brett blushed, feeling honored to be so asked. At the far end of the table, Clarence Canto-Sagas sat on Miss Bird’s right, then Noah, then Ariana. Jasper sat next to his mother and Lucy between her parents. Across the table, Dr. Banneker sat beside Miss Brett, and Wallace next to him. Faye tried to avoid sitting next to her mother, but was unsuccessful. Rajesh sat next to his wife, and Nikola Tesla sat across from Lucy
Wallace looked into his empty plate, finding it hard to look at his father. Jasper felt that things were still too unresolved for his liking, and found the plate of fish very interesting for it allowed him to look away from Lucy, who was beaming, sandwiched between her parents.
Noah succumbed to the caresses and embraces of his mother. He basked, helplessly, in her presence, his father somewhat abandoned on Noah’s other side. Clarence Canto-Sagas smiled affectionately at Miss Bird. Faye sat between her parents and tried to shed herself of the anger that still burned inside her.
There were soups—rice and chestnut, roast vegetable and orzo. There was a roast on either end of the table. There were four terrines of potatoes—mashed, roasted, baked, and sweet. The sweet potatoes had been crusted with a brown sugar, salt, and butter rub, so that they were sweet and savory at the same time. They practically melted in your mouth. There were gravies and sauces and relishes and butters. There were big loaves of hot, fresh bread and small plates of salted olive oil for dipping.
There was a whole smoked salmon, sliced very thin, its head garnished with parsley. It being obvious that the fish was a fish, Lucy declined a serving. “Oh, I couldn’t eat the sweet little fishy,” she said sadly. “It was somebody’s friend once.”
There were sausages and crisp onions, and trout almondine. Noah took a giant helping of the roast boar and Faye continued to shoot him dirty looks, which did not keep him from making comments about eating the boar before it could eat them and snorting piggishly as he chewed. Lucy nibbled sausage, blissfully unconscious of its origins. Every plate was sumptuous. Nikola Tesla, picky though he was, did not turn down a single dish offered at the feast, though he cleaned his fork after every bite and talked nonstop of his death ray
“Theft, I tell you. I am certain someone gazed upon my death ray a
nd stole it.” He wiped the side of his hand after pounding it on the table.
“Stole it?” asked Jasper. He glanced over at Noah, who had raised his eyebrows in suspicion.
“Stole it by looking at it?” asked Noah.
“Stole it, yes, with the mind. Someone’s mind stole it, I am sure. The blueprints felt different,” he insisted.
“How does it work?” asked Wallace, genuinely interested in the device from a scientific point of view,
“It uses a ferrous mercury alloy as the ammunition, first of all,” Tesla said in a near whisper.
“And that is a powerful choice for ammunition?” asked Noah, doubtful.
“It can blow a hole through a wall—even slice a cow in half,” Tesla said, wiping a phantom speck from his tiny moustache,
“Oh, never do that,” said Lucy, who leaned back so her mother could slice her roast beef. “Never cut a sweet, furry cow in half.”
Jasper shot Noah a glance,
“Wallace, you take a big helping,” said his father. “Put a little hair on that chest of yours.”
Miss Brett could see Wallace shrink next to his father.
“Then there are my lightning balls,” continued Nikola Tesla.
“Lightning balls?” asked Noah, his eyebrows raised.
“And you know exactly of what I am speaking. My lightning ball was the brilliant invention you saw on the train. I call my invention the Fire Sphere of Death, or Sphere of Atmoselectronic Power, or the—”
“AtmoSphere?” suggested Noah.
“What?” said Tesla, indignant.
“The AtmoSphere.” Noah smiled. “Kind of a catchy name, yes?”
“What is this silliness?” grumbled Nikola Tesla. “My Spheres of Death are beyond any—”
“Yes, we know,” Faye said. “It’s what you used to make us think our parents were dead.”
Tesla had not spotted the waving arm of Dr. Canto-Sagas, begging him not to speak of this.
“We did that explosion for your own safety,” he said. “What of it?” He shook his napkin and pushed his food around with his fork.
“What?” Faye was indignant. “For our own safety? You allowed us to suffer and believe our parents were blown to pieces for our own—”
“This is why I have no children,” said Tesla. “This and the horrid things that come down from their noses. Why would I want to have such whining creatures with no sense of propriety and self-preservation?”
Faye stood up. “We have a sense of—”
“Faye!” said Jasper. This was going nowhere. “Please, Faye. It’s Christmas.”
Faye sat back down. She sat quietly until the anger subsided. She would not spoil their evening. But she would also not let this rest, either.
When the main meal was finished, sweets and puddings followed in droves. There was treacle tart and apple pie, pumpkin cake and biscotti. There were meringues and marzipans, frangipane, chocolates, and custards.
“Would anyone like this frangipane with apricots?” asked Lucy, holding it up. “I’ve eaten three and would very much like this one, too, but—”
Faye couldn’t bear Noah eating yet another. She stood up and reached over, as Jasper reached and Wallace leaned over as well. Their arms all bumped at once, knocking Lucy. Again, it was as if an electrical shock passed through them. Jasper felt a tug in his wrist, Faye from her neck, and Wallace through his leg. Lucy dropped the tart and wrenched her hand back.
“Oh!” cried Ariana, who reached for her throat. Then, recovering herself, she looked around the room,
“I understand, dear lady,” Nikola Tesla said, fanning Ariana with his kerchief, believing she had been as appalled by the dropping of the tart as he had,
“What happened?” asked Noah, mid-bite.
“It happened on the train, only not as strong,” Faye said. “It must have been static electricity.”
“Or the electrical charge from the frangipane,” said Lucy, picking at the fallen treat. “It is electrifyingly delicious.” And into her mouth it went,
Ariana, collecting herself, reached for a handkerchief to delicately dab at the perspiration on her upper lip. Lucy watched her, wide-eyed. Ariana smiled and, with her graceful fingers, brushed away the crumbs in the corners of Lucy’s mouth.
Electrical charges? Wallace considered this. It was true, the charge seemed stronger than on the train. Faye, Lucy, Jasper, and Wallace had all been near one another before tonight, many times. But somehow, that evening, around the table with their parents, something happened. Could there be some strange electric or magnetic or electromagnetic charge among them? He might be able to explain the coin, for he had been working with magnets, but what about everything else? Was something changing? Getting stronger?
By the end of the meal, everyone had been exceptionally well fed. Noah had to be dragged away reaching for a last custard, a last biscotti, or a last caggionetti. Ariana was worried the boy might burst. Lucy took one more meringue and wrapped it in her napkin.
The parents, teachers, and Nikola Tesla repaired to the hearth. The nannies joined in for some after-dinner conversation, bringing along trays of tea and brandy.
“Just a little Christmas nip,” said Rosie, taking a brandy and handing one to Miss Bird.
“I’d fancy a look around,” Faye whispered to Jasper, wanting neither tea nor brandy. “What, for example, is down those halls?” Faye pointed to the four halls that led from the main room. “Can you hear it?”
Jasper strained to listen. Yes, there was something. A humming. Was it music? It sounded like one low, humming voice.
“Come on, Jasper,” said Faye. “Let’s explore.” She would have wandered off on her own anyway. She even thought of sneaking off so her parents might have to wonder where she was. Somehow, the moment had never seemed right, but now, with the music, she had to explore.
“Oh, yes, let’s do explore,” said Lucy. But then she looked anxiously at her mother and reached for her hand. “Maybe—maybe I’ll stay here to be sure they don’t go away.”
“Good luck with that,” said Faye. She looked at Wallace, who seemed so tiny sitting next to his father.
Lucy tugged at her mother’s arm. “Please don’t go away right now, Mummy. I’m—”
“Ma cheré,” said Isobel Modest, “we are here and will not go anywhere . . . without letting you know.”
With slight trepidation, Lucy let go of her mother. Isobel looked from Lucy to Jasper. “Je vous promets, mes enfants. I promise you both.”
Initially, the children realized they had to trust that promise. They had no choice. But Lucy chose to test the promise and came running back to her mother’s arms moments after leaving. Then, seeing her mother still there, she hurried off to catch up with the others.
“Let’s go there first,” Lucy said, pointing to the hallway on the far right. The archways offered nothing but darkness beyond.
“Why?” asked Faye.
“It’s where the singing is coming from,” Lucy said. The others could tell now that the music was louder in that direction. It was the sound of Gregorian chanting. So the children entered the passageway gingerly, carefully, slowly.
Farther down, there were small flame torches mounted to the walls, as they had been in the tunnel, invisible from the main room, With the dim torchlight in the passageway, their path was not total darkness. Still, with the chanting, there was a haunting feeling as they approached.
Lucy slipped one hand into Faye’s, and her bracelet, on the other arm, into her mouth. Faye squeezed to let Lucy know she was there.
After listening to the different doors, the children determined that it was the third door on the right side. Without a doubt, the voices were coming from the room beyond, “Open the door,” Noah said, standing deliberately behind Faye.
“Oh, isn’t that brave of you,” Faye said.
“I think we should leave it closed,” Wallace said. “I mean, out of respect for whoever is singing.” He was shaking a bit, but tried
to hide it. He had shoved his hands into his pockets, grateful his lucky coin was there.
“If we open the door just a bit, we can see what’s going on,” Faye said. She had to peek. She touched the handle of the door and turned it slightly. It was not locked. “Shhhhh,” she said.
Noah leaned over Faye, with Jasper just below him. Wallace and Lucy bent below Faye. Slowly, Faye turned the knob and pushed the door open. She opened it only a few inches, but it was enough.
The room was smaller than the dining room, but it, too, had tapestries and tall ceilings. In the room were gathered twenty mysterious men in black—at least, the children assumed they were mysterious men in black. All the men wore dark robes, like monks, instead of their usual strange costumes.
“It’s like it was on the boat,” whispered Noah.
Faye carefully, and silently, closed the door again. Somehow, it felt wrong, looking in on them. Somehow, it felt wrong, even cruel, to disturb them.
“Let’s go,” said Faye, but Wallace was looking at his pocket. He could feel the coin inside it moving, as if to get out. Faye walked off to try another door.
“What is it, Wallace?” asked Jasper. Right then, the coin stopped its strange behavior, and Wallace didn’t feel like mentioning anything. He followed the others down the hall, but every other door was locked.
“Let’s get back before they miss us,” whispered Jasper.
“Oh, I don’t want Mummy to miss us,” Lucy squeaked.
They turned around and headed back the way they came. They quickly slipped out of the corridor and into the room of adults. Conversation had not been altered by the departure or arrival of the young inventors. In fact, within moments, it was clear to Faye that the children had not been missed by their parents at all. Had the parents even noticed they weren’t there? Was life better for them without children, who were a bother and a distraction? No, the parents were all deep into their discussion. Was she surprised? Faye took a deep breath and bit her tongue. No, she was not surprised, She was hurt, but not surprised.
The Ravens of Solemano or The Order of the Mysterious Men in Black Page 26
