Faye sat sulking for several minutes after that. She found herself sitting next to her mother, who sat listening intently to something her father was saying. Suddenly Faye felt she had been there before—déjà vu. Her mother sitting meekly at her father’s side, looking up at him, hanging on his every word.
Faye looked from one to the other. She could not decide who she was angrier with. Her father was so full of himself, telling everyone about something he had done—something brilliant. Faye looked at her mother, who was smiling that bovine smile with her big green eyes gazing adoringly at her husband. Then her mother turned those eyes on Faye and gave Faye that same weak, cowish expression. Her mother was a genius, or she had been.
But Faye could not remember her mother being any other way She remembered her mother being even worse—never speaking, very thin and ill, always ill. Gwendolyn Vigyanveta had been the youngest graduate of the Annex, the first woman to be admitted to actual classes at Harvard. She was a rising star in science, yet she let her husband run her life. Faye’s mother couldn’t even make a decision without her husband’s approval. What had happened to her?
Faye would never be like that. She would never let a man make all the decisions and sit quietly as he did so. Never
Miss Brett brought a plate of biscuits over to Faye. “Here, sweet angel,” she said, then she leaned close to Faye’s ear. “I know this is hard,” she said in a whisper. “But you need to let yourself forgive them, even a bit at a time.” Faye did not take a biscuit, so Miss Brett placed one on Faye’s saucer and handed the saucer to Faye.
Faye took it, reluctantly, and held it without eating. She bit her lip, still watching her parents. She knew Miss Brett was right, but not entirely so. No, she would not forgive. She placed the saucer on the table and stood up. She walked over to the corridor across the room, but her stiff departure was barred by a wrought-iron gate. She had not seen it, shadowed in the dark. It would not open, even as she shook it, but she noticed the strange grooves that ran around it and up around the archway
Then she turned and walked to the next passageway. It, too, was barred. Feeling her face flush, Faye turned back to the last corridor. Without a passing glance at the parents, she marched toward the last passageway. Here there was no gate to bar her way.
Faye took a deep breath and walked into the darkness.
Soon, she was standing in the dark, without even the singing to serve as excuse or direction. She inched further into the hallway, but here there were no flaming torches, however small. There was only dark and cold as she moved away from the entrance. It felt tight and close. Were the walls closer than she thought? Were they getting closer as she walked? Faye’s chest felt tight. She shut her eyes tight. No, she would not call for Jasper. She tried to catch her breath, but it felt as if her lungs were suddenly made of stone.
“Faye?”
Faye heard the voice calling softly into the darkness. She saw Jasper standing at the entrance. She wiped the sweat from her brow. Even in the chill, she was sweating. Gulping down what air she could, she closed her eyes again.
“What is it, Jasper?” She tried to sound relaxed.
Jasper stepped into the darkness and, as his eyes adjusted, he saw Faye sitting on the stone floor. He sat down next to her.
“I just can’t accept it all as easily as everyone else,” she said. “I can’t stop being angry.”
“It’s funny,” said Jasper, thoughtfully. “You see yourself as weak when you need a friend. It must be exhausting trying to keep your chin up all the time. Your power to fight is the thing that makes you battle-weary, Faye. It’s all right. Really, it’s all right.”
“What should I do?” asked Faye, suddenly holding tight to Jasper’s hand. She tried not to resent the crack in her voice. She felt the chill of the sweat on her skin and wished she were sitting by the fire instead of here with her stockings and skirts on the stone floor clinging to Jasper’s hand.
Jasper stood up, letting her hold onto his hand. She stood up, realizing that she had been clutching Jasper’s hand, but she didn’t let go. She was grateful that she didn’t have to come stomping into the room all alone. He had saved her from humiliating retreat.
Together, they went back to the warmth of the hearth.
Back by the fire, Miss Brett and the parents were deep in conversation. Miss Bird snored in the comfy chair, and Nikola Tesla muttered to himself by the fireplace.
The children sat either on the rug, on cushions, or on the armrests of their parents’ chairs. Wallace’s father patted his leg as an invitation, and Wallace climbed up to sit in the big man’s lap.
“It really is good to see you, son,” his father said, pulling Wallace into a bear hug. “You got that coin? I mean, for good luck?”
Wallace smiled. “Yes, Father,” he said. “I never let it out of my pocket.”
“I knew it would be safe with you.” His father smiled. “Because we could all use good luck, right?”
“I love it because you gave it to me,” said Wallace. “I’m not one to believe in either luck or magic.”
“Of course you’re not,” his father said, grinning more broadly. “You’re my boy. You’re a scientist.”
Wallace threw his arms around his father’s neck. His father wrapped those big strong arms around him. It felt so good to be near his father. He felt so safe.
Rosie came waddling in, carrying a big box with the name “Thomas J. Smith” on it.
“Crackers!” cried Lucy. “Christmas crackers!”
Lucy jumped up and down, and the others couldn’t help being excited, too. Soon, small explosions were going off all over the room. Jasper and Lucy each pulled an end of a green- and blue-colored cracker. With a pop, Lucy squealed with delight and grabbed the foiled chocolate.
Wallace, meanwhile, smiled, leaning back against his father’s chest and clasping his coin in his hand. He felt so secure holding it, feeling the comfort of the familiar warm metal against his palm. And it was warm, he thought. In fact, it was not only warm, but it seemed to be vibrating.
Wallace looked around the room at the others. Everyone seemed consumed by the festivities. Everyone was focused on the Christmas crackers.
Maybe it’s just all the excitement, Wallace thought. He looked over, and Lucy was wearing her bracelet, as was Jasper his. Faye held the charm on her necklace, just as Wallace clutched his coin.
With an impulse he could not explain, Wallace held his coin out and walked over to Jasper. He brushed his hand past Jasper’s arm, as if by accident. He could not be absolutely sure, but he thought he felt the coin in his hand quiver as he passed. Jasper jolted back.
“Hey, Wallace,” Jasper croaked, rubbing his wrist. “You gave me a start. That was—well, that was really weird. Have you hurt yourself? Are you all right?” Jasper scanned Wallace’s startled face. Wallace, quickly slipping the coin back in his pocket, looked down at Jasper’s arm.
“Yes, I . . . I was looking for . . . something,” Wallace mumbled, completely absorbed in his thoughts. Then Wallace walked past Jasper and toward the fireplace. He knew what he wanted to do next, but he didn’t know why.
He walked over to Faye and, trying to look relaxed, took the coin from his pocket and raised it, as if to show Faye,
“I’ve seen your coin, Wallace.” She smiled, then suddenly grabbed her throat. “Ouch!”
Wallace quickly withdrew his coin and shoved it deep into his pocket. “What happened?”
“You, no, it . . . I don’t know, but you must have done something.” Faye rubbed her throat, where the charm lay against it. “It must have been an electric shock. Don’t shuffle across the carpets, Wallace,” she said. “You know better than that.”
“I . . . I’m sorry,” Wallace said, though his mind was racing. Suddenly, he felt as if the coin was an imposter. What was it doing? It was as if his coin was attacking his friends. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Or had it? Trying to think back, Wallace considered that maybe, just maybe, t
he electrical events on the train had done something to his coin. Or was it even his coin?
He took it from his pocket when he was a safe distance from Faye. It was indeed his, as surely as the train that had exploded had not been their train or . . . or . . . he did not know. Something was different. Something had happened to the coin, but when? Yes, something happened, or was happening.
A large hand closed around his. Wallace looked up into the eyes of his father.
“Father,” Wallace said. “Father, there’s something strange about the coin. Something—”
“Keep that safe in your pocket, son,” he said quietly, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear, “and don’t let it near the others.” His tone was serious and pleading. Then he cleared his throat, as if he’d caught himself. He smiled. “That is, don’t let anyone drop it down a hole or . . . well, keep it close, right? Don’t want to lose it. Maybe it’s best if I take it back . . . after all this . . . to keep it safe.”
But Wallace pulled his hand back and returned the coin to his pocket. His father opened his mouth to argue, but didn’t. Wallace could feel his father’s arms grow a bit tense, as if he was trying to keep Wallace safe within them.
But why was everyone using the word “safe”? Were they safe? Wallace still didn’t know, and that scared him.
“We have some gifts to exchange, dear,” Ariana gently said to Wallace, placing her hand on his shoulder.
Wallace turned around, but his father kept his arm around the boy’s shoulder. Wallace nodded to Ariana, who had pulled her hand back. She smiled, but Wallace wondered if he had given her a shock, too. It was as if everyone who touched him got jolted. He looked up at his father. Not everyone, he thought. Not everyone.
“Oh, these are lovely,” said Lucy again and again, as she ran her fingers over the beautiful red and gold ribbons from Ariana. The children were admiring their gifts—a small leather tool pouch for Jasper, a set of handkerchiefs embroidered with her name for Faye, a bismuth crystal for Wallace.
“That is beautiful,” said Faye, admiring the strange iridescent metallic lump in Wallace’s hand.
“Bismuth is fascinating,” said Wallace. “It’s the most diamagnetic of all metals. Remember, I was working with it on the train. It can create a strong reversed magnetic field—”
“Well, beauty can often be repulsive,” said Noah, nodding at Faye, who ignored him but handed the bismuth back to Wallace,
Lucy, who had eyes, now, for no one but Ariana, was digging in her apron pockets. “I have a gift for you.” She pulled out the old handkerchief she had taken from the ship,
Ariana looked at it queerly and, for a few moments, looked back at Lucy. “Thank you, Lucy. I guess you must have found it somewhere.”
Lucy smiled and went back to her ribbons,
Another round of tea was served, but things were certainly winding down. Lucy began to snore softly, leaning on her mother’s shoulder. Miss Bird had long ago fallen asleep by the fire. Miss Brett realized it must be very late.
“Are we to spend the night here?” she asked the parents as a group, not knowing which of them would have an answer. “Unfortunately, I didn’t pack any—”
“Not,” came a low sharp voice. It was the man in the floppy hat. He had entered the room, coming from the passageway by the fireplace.
“pardon?” Miss Brett had not heard the word, only a sudden grunt from the man,
“We go,” he said.
“Oh, well . . . I suppose we need to wake—” But the man cut off Miss Brett. He simply picked Lucy up and tossed her over his shoulder.
The others, who were no less exhausted, but had only managed to stay somewhat awake, stood up to go. Slowly, they marched toward the huge doors. But Wallace stopped. He turned and ran into his father’s arms.
“I . . . I don’t want to go,” he whispered, trying to keep the tears from coming down.
“Now you be strong,” his father said. “You be a man, and—”
“But he is not a man,” Miss Brett said, trying to keep control of her voice. “He is a boy, and he needs his father to understand that.” She knew her face was reddening, but she held her ground. She had been there, holding this little boy almost every night after arriving at Sole Manner Farm. It was not fair for his father to demand so much of him. “Wallace is brave and strong, and you need to see that.”
“Well, I only meant . . .” But Dr. Banneker could see his mistake, written all over the face of his little boy. He held his son tight. “You are brave, Wallace. And I am so proud of you.”
“Where are you going? Will we see you?” Jasper reached for his mother’s hand.
“Of course, mon cher,” she said, squeezing his fingers, “We will not be . . . far.”
“Of course, we’ll see you,” said his father.
“Will we see you . . . tomorrow?” Noah asked, looking into his mother’s eyes.
His mother smiled, averting his gaze. “Dear, I’m off to New York. My friend, Enrico Caruso, performed Rigoletto in November. I met him in London and wired the Met immediately. I could hear something magic in that voice. He performed with Marcella Sembrich, as I was otherwise engaged. She is fabulous, though, and no one was disappointed. She is the queen of the Met after all these years. So, where was I? . . . Yes, I’m off to New York to record with Enrico.”
Noah barely listened. He didn’t care about Caruso or the Met. To him, these were simply the familiar details of yet another departure.
“When will you be back?” he asked. He looked up and into her eyes. She looked back and, for the first time, he detected something, Was it fear? Was it sorrow? She touched her beautiful necklace and seemed to pull herself back together
“Back? Um . . . back here?” She looked at her husband. Noah could see his father, with the tiniest movement, betraying the fact that he was secretly shaking his head. “I don’t know if I will be back here soon, but we have . . . we will . . . there’s something. I forgot to give you your present . . . well, goodness, Noah, don’t you worry.” Reaching into a fold in her gown, she brought out a small silk bag and handed it to Noah. He opened it and found a small brass compass.
“When you look at it, you can know in which direction to find me. Then you can send me kisses and I will feel them.”
Noah looked up at his mother and forced a smile between two tear-stained cheeks. He would rather have had one more hour with her than any other gift she could offer. He looked down at the compass. Yes, he’d rather have her than anything in the world.
Ariana kissed her son on the top of his head, then pulled him to her. “I love you, Noah,” she whispered. “I love you so.”
And for Noah, this was music to his ears.
“This is taking a lot longer than when we came,” said Faye as they walked through the tunnels. She realized they had only the light from Miss Brett’s electric torch. Faye looked around. “We must be going the wrong way. Where is the man with the lamp?”
“Was there another way to go? Did you see a second tunnel?” Jasper didn’t remember. Neither did anyone else. “The man has Lucy.”
“Faye.” Miss Brett stumbled into Jasper, who had stopped. “Sorry, Jasper. Sweet angels, the direction back is the same as the direction there. We’re just tired, and . . .” Suddenly, she looked around as her torch began to fade. Where was the man carrying Lucy? She shook her electric torch and flicked it back on again.
“We’re lost,” Faye groaned.
“No, we’re just . . .” What they were, besides lost, Jasper had not yet decided. “Okay, we just need to go back the way we came.” But the light from Miss Brett’s torch shined into two passageways behind them.
“Which way did we come from?” asked Faye.
“Lucy would know,” said Wallace quietly.
“We’re going to need a better guide than our memories,” said Noah.
“Hello!” called Jasper. “Lucy!”
“Shhh, you’ll wake her,” Faye said. “They’ve got to be right beh
ind us . . . or in front of us.”
This meant that standing still would either bring Lucy closer to them or take her farther away.
“I’m sure we’ve just . . .” Miss Brett looked around. Had they gone the wrong way? Was that possible?
“Sorry, I . . . I don’t want to wake her but . . . we must find them.” Jasper felt a bead of sweat coming down his brow. Stop it, he thought. The man had not taken off with Lucy. They’d simply taken a wrong turn.
Deciding on a tunnel to take, they followed it right into a dead end. Then, quickly turning around, they hurried along but found themselves not back where they had come from, but cornered by a pile of rubble.
“Is that moonlight?” Noah pointed to what may have been a crack in the top of the tunnel.
“Or a reflection of the electric torch?” wondered Wallace.
Clearly, the tunnel seemed to veer and then fork at the bend. They continued down one tunnel, but found that way also blocked by rubble.
“Did this just happen? Did the rocks just fall to block us?” Wallace said, adjusting his glasses. Were they now trapped down there?
“We would have heard it,” said Faye. “And there would be dust in the air.”
So they traced their steps back once again and tried the other way. Here, they found themselves in another long, dark passage. Miss Brett’s torch was dimming. She shook it once again.
“This can’t be right, either,” said Noah, taking a few steps back and looking in both directions. Pulling his new compass out of his pocket, he looked at it in the gloomy dimness. “I wish I knew what direction to find.”
They kept walking. The brick in the tunnel turned to stone. They passed a chute much like the one they had seen earlier. But the walls changed as they walked. Soon, the walls were covered with drawings and carvings. Again, they saw men in cloaks depicted as a group. There were carvings of birds and animals, too. And there was writing. It seemed to be Latin.
“This must be an older part,” said Wallace.
The Ravens of Solemano or The Order of the Mysterious Men in Black Page 27
