The Empress's Tomb

by Kirsten Miller

  • • •

  I spent the next fifteen minutes counting the nine hundred seconds until Molly was back.

  “Hey there,” she said. “Where were we?”

  “That boy. The one you said ran away. What’s his name?”

  “Phineas Parker. Why?”

  “What does he look like?”

  “No idea. I’ve never seen him. Why do you want to know?”

  “Just curious,” I told her.

  “If you know where he is, you could claim the big reward his parents have offered. But I doubt you’re cruel enough to turn him in.”

  “Not after what you’ve told me. By the way, what’s his gift?”

  “Art,” said Molly. “His parents have his paintings all over their office. Supposedly they sold one a while back for something like thirty thousand dollars.”

  “Listen, Molly. Do you think you might be able to get me a picture of Phineas?”

  “Probably,” she said. “What would I get in return?”

  I thought for a moment. “If you get me a picture, I’ll get you expelled.”

  “Promise?” said Molly, her eyes gleaming.

  “I promise,” I assured her.

  “Molly!” Mrs. Fontaine took us both by surprise. “That’s it! You’re here through November.”

  “Great!” Molly exclaimed as she bounced back to her seat.

  • • •

  On my way home from school, I took out my phone to call Kiki, only to discover two missed calls from my house. It was not a good sign. When I walked through the front door, I found my mother waiting in the hallway, clutching a stopwatch like a sadistic track coach. She glanced down at the clock and then back up at me.

  “It’s forty-seven minutes after six. Why are you late? I checked online. There’s nothing wrong with the subway.”

  “Actually, I walked home.” Her tone had me scared, and I desperately wished for a little Fille Fiable. “I’d been sitting down for hours. I needed some exercise.”

  “Exercise is the least of your concerns right now. Your father and I would like to talk to you in the next room.” I was too shocked to move. “Now!” my mother ordered.

  The floor of the living area remained covered with fallen books. Only a small circle surrounding the couch had been cleared of debris. I took a seat across from my parents and tried to ignore a book entitled Central American Temples of Doom that was calling to me from across the room.

  “Would you like to tell us why you had such a hard time getting out of bed this morning?” my mother asked.

  “I was tired?”

  “That’s the best you can do?” My explanation had been rejected and my mother looked disgusted. “I had just finished talking to the head of the Borland Academy when your principal rang,” she said. “She seems to think she can get you back in line. Though it’s against my better judgment, I agreed to give her a chance.”

  “Thank you,” I muttered.

  “Not so fast. The Borland Academy is still expecting you in December. I’ve already written the check. Sleep late again, and you’ll wake up on a bus to West Virginia.”

  “We don’t want to punish you, Ananka,” said my father, looking a little uncomfortable. He always preferred to play the good cop. “We just want to help you succeed. If you do well in school, then one day you can do whatever you want. You can study giant squid or join the FBI or dig up old bones around New York. But you’ll never be able to do all of that if you don’t get through geometry first.”

  “Your father may not want to punish you, but I do,” my mother declared. “We have given you our trust and your privacy, and you have abused them both. That’s why we’ve felt the need to take a few precautions. Your father and I have spent the day finding all the books you’ll need for your studies. They’re in your room now. Everything else in the library is temporarily off-limits until you learn how to focus.

  “Every day for the next two weeks, you will come directly home from detention and begin your homework. During this time you will stay away from Kiki Strike. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” It’s easy to sound humble when you think you have an ace up your sleeve.

  “Fine. Then it’s time to get started. And, Ananka?”

  “Yes?”

  “Tomorrow you’ll take the subway home.”

  I hurried to my room to inspect the damage. My desk drawers had been rifled, and many of my favorite books had been confiscated, but my collection of New York history books hadn’t been touched. My copy of Glimpses of Gotham remained, along with the map that was tucked between its pages. I almost breathed a sigh of relief until I happened to notice the windows. Both were secured with brand-new padlocks. I was trapped inside. I lay down on my bed, fully prepared to have a good cry, when there was a knock at the door and my father stuck his head inside.

  “It’s really not that bad,” he whispered. “Just get an A on your next test and she’ll forget everything. You can do it!”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I sniffled.

  “By the way, something came by messenger for you today. I think it’s from one of your friends. Don’t tell your mother I gave it to you.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. He tossed a small manila package onto the bed.

  “If you need any help on your homework, just let me know.”

  “I will,” I promised, wiping my eyes.

  I ripped open the package and dumped the contents out onto the bed. There were two padlocks identical to the ones on my windows, a miniature hammer and chisel, and a small leather case. The case contained a metal test tube that was cold to the touch and labeled Liquid Nitrogen. I fished inside the envelope and found a note.

  Sorry I stood you up today. Heard you got busted. It’s not as bad as it looks. If you can’t pick the locks, you can use this kit. Coat one of the locks with nitrogen and let it sit for a minute or two. When the lock freezes, just shatter it with the hammer and chisel. (Be careful! Nitrogen freezes fingers, too.)

  See you tomorrow night.

  Kiki

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Sleeping Beauty

  Friday morning, I pushed through the front doors of the Atalanta School a full forty-five minutes before the first bell. The halls were practically empty. I raced past a few scholarship students and a suck-up or two on my way to the bathroom. I’d downed a triple espresso while walking to the subway, and the effects were becoming unpleasant. As I struggled frantically with the buckle of my belt, I heard someone slam the door of the neighboring stall.

  “Psst! Ananka.” The whisper bordered on a shout. I looked down and saw a freckled face grinning at me from under the divider.

  “Molly?” I groaned. The girl really needed to work on her boundaries. “What are you doing?”

  “Come over here,” she insisted.

  “What? No!”

  “Come over here. I’ve got something for you.”

  “Don’t you think that would look a little weird, Molly?”

  Molly scowled. “I’m serious. Do you want it or not?”

  “Good God, Molly. Can it wait a minute? I’m about to explode.”

  “No, it can’t. In case you’ve forgotten, I have every teacher in school watching me. I don’t have much time.”

  I took a deep breath and unlocked my stall. I didn’t have a chance to check for eavesdroppers before Molly pulled me into her stall. We stood nose to nose over the toilet.

  “This is very strange,” I told her. “Why all the secrecy?”

  “I got you a photo of Phineas Parker.” Molly unzipped her backpack. It was empty aside from a picture in an enormous silver frame.

  “I just needed the photograph, Molly, not the frame. This is from Tiffany’s. Your shrinks are definitely going to know it’s missing.”

  “Like I care? I’ll tell my dad to add a hundred bucks to their next check. Ooooh! Or maybe they’ll make me find another doctor. That would be fantastic! So what do you think?”

  I had a hard time pulling my eyes away. P
hineas Parker had auburn hair, hazel eyes, and the face of a Greek god. An enormous squirrel sat perched on his shoulder.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Molly cackled. “Who knew he was such a looker? If he ever decides to move back home, maybe I’ll get his parents to set us up.”

  “Molly,” I said with a smile, “by that time, you’re going to be hundreds of miles away from New York.”

  “So you’re really going to do it?”

  “A promise is a promise. Nothing’s going to happen immediately, but one day soon, you’re going to get expelled.”

  Molly threw her arms around me and smothered me with a hug so powerful that I nearly lost control of my bladder. Two girls giggled when Molly and I stepped out of the stall, but I didn’t care. Never in my life had I made anyone so happy.

  • • •

  That evening, only hours before Lester Liu’s dinner was set to begin, I took the subway home from school, walked straight past my mother with my head held high, and locked myself in my bedroom. Shortly before seven o’clock, my father knocked at the door and asked if I cared for a little bread and water. I politely informed him that I’d already eaten and requested that he leave me to my studies. At seven fifteen, I carefully cracked one of the padlocks and tiptoed down the fire escape. By seven thirty, I was outside Betty Bent’s building. I didn’t feel an ounce of guilt.

  My fingers had just brushed the bell when Betty opened the door and dragged me inside her dark basement apartment. Before I could say a word, she lifted one finger to her lips.

  “I’m glad you came early,” she whispered, taking a quick peek over her shoulder. “There’s something you should see.”

  “Is anyone else here?” I asked.

  “Just Oona. Come on.” She weaved around the mannequins and headless dressmakers’ dummies that crowded the living room. Her parents were designing costumes for a new opera that appeared to be set on Mars.

  “Hold on just a second. I’ve got something to tell you,” I hissed at Betty’s back. “I discovered your boyfriend’s secret identity today.”

  Betty slowed her stride but refused to turn around. “Boyfriend?”

  “You know who I’m talking about. He loves the outdoors, enjoys working with animals, and hasn’t seen a bar of soap in a while.” Betty stopped walking. “His real name is Phineas Parker. His parents are psychologists. He ran away a few months ago. Want to see a picture?”

  Betty nodded mutely, and I passed her the picture I’d removed from its frame.

  “Not bad, huh?” My grin faded when I saw Betty’s face. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “Nothing. I just wish Iris had never made that love potion. Look—maybe you shouldn’t tell anyone else about this.”

  “Why not?” My fine detective work had been rewarded with a first-class piece of gossip. Keeping it to myself would be like winning the lottery and losing the ticket.

  “He hasn’t given us any reason to sell him out. Let him keep his secret for now.”

  “Don’t tell me you have a crush on the wild child of Central Park.”

  Betty shrugged. “What if I do? What difference would it make?”

  “But he’s been following you around like a lovesick baboon,” I argued. “Obviously, he likes you, too.”

  “Maybe. But thanks to Eau Irresistible, I’ll never know for sure,” she said with a sigh. “Now hurry up or you’ll miss the show.”

  Betty bustled toward her bedroom at the back of the building. Light flooded into the living room through the open door.

  “Okay, stand here.” Betty shoved me into a shadow and pointed into the bedroom. “Take a look.”

  Gazing into three full-length mirrors was Oona, wearing a magnificent dress composed of multiple layers of pale, dove-gray silk and chiffon. Whenever she moved, hundreds of beads sewn along the hem of the gown sparkled like morning dew.

  “What an amazing dress. Did you design it?” I asked Betty.

  “No. Oona brought it with her. In a huge box with a big red bow.”

  “A present from Daddy?”

  “Uh-huh. It was delivered to her house this morning. She had to try it on here. She said her grandmothers wouldn’t approve if they knew she was accepting gifts from Lester Liu.”

  “I take it you don’t approve, either?” I asked. Betty shook her head. “It is a little strange, I suppose. But it’s only a dress.”

  “It’s not just a dress. See all the little sparkles on the bottom? Those are real. They’re diamonds.”

  “They can’t be real,” I scoffed. “There are tons of them.”

  “I know, but they are. I tested one. And there wasn’t just a dress in the box she brought. Did you see her new jewelry?”

  Still unaware we were watching, Oona stopped twirling for the mirrors and reached into a giant box that lay open on the bed. A thick diamond bracelet flashed on her wrist as she pulled out a silver fur stole and draped it around her shoulders. She struck a movie star pose and blew a kiss at her own reflection. I suddenly felt as if I were spying on a stranger. The Oona I knew had her faults, but her dignity wasn’t for sale. Not only would she have refused Lester Liu’s gifts, she’d have set the box on fire and tossed it into the street. This was a person I’d never seen before. An impostor, perhaps. An evil twin. Or maybe, it occurred to me, this was the real Oona—the side of herself she’d kept hidden from the rest of us.

  “She does look great,” I muttered, afraid to share my suspicions with Betty.

  “She’s gorgeous. That’s the problem,” Betty whispered. “Her father’s found her weakness. Who knows what he wants, but he thinks he can buy her trust. I’m starting to get worried, Ananka.”

  “Me, too,” I admitted. If the Irregulars’ safety depended on the girl in the mirror, we were all in grave danger. The buzzer rang.

  “I’ll be right back,” said Betty.

  “Hi, Oona.” I stepped into the light of the bedroom. Oona waved at my reflection.

  “Well, what do you think?” she asked.

  “Your father has excellent taste,” I noted dryly.

  “He does, doesn’t he?” Oona spun around once for her own amusement before she saw the expression on my face. “Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped. “If he sent something, I have to wear it, don’t I? What would he think if I showed up in one of Betty’s old rags?”

  I didn’t know what to say. As Betty returned to the bedroom with Luz, DeeDee, and Iris in tow, I finally put a finger on what bothered me. Oona’s argument made perfect sense. It just wasn’t something my friend would have said.

  “Your parents are letting you hang out with us again?” I asked Iris as she walked through the door.

  “Yeah, they finally figured out that it’s better to have older friends than no friends at all.” Iris reached out to brush her hand against Oona’s silk dress. “You look amazing, Oona,” she gushed.

  “Tell me something I don’t know, munchkin,” Oona replied haughtily as she twirled out of Iris’s reach.

  “Pretty on the outside,” DeeDee grumbled under her breath. “Where’s Kiki?”

  “Looks like she’s going to be late,” said Betty. “Have a seat.”

  “I brought your bugs.” Luz dropped onto Betty’s bed with a thump. She pulled a flat, nickel-sized object out of a paper bag and held it pinched between her thumb and index finger. “There are twenty of them, and you can put them anywhere you want. There’s adhesive on the back if you need to stick one under a table or behind a painting.”

  “You’re a genius,” I told her.

  “It’s been said before,” Luz replied.

  “Iris and I brought some Fille Fiable.” DeeDee placed three small spray bottles on Betty’s vanity. “Just remember that it stays strong for only a few minutes. You may need to reapply it several times.”

  “You’re telling me how it works?” Oona asked. “In case you’ve forgotten, I got a personal demonstration from your vertically challenged sidekick.”

 
; “Okay!” Betty refused to let Oona’s comment do damage. “Time to get you dressed, Ananka. Want to come, Iris?”

  “You bet!” Iris chirped, eager to escape from Oona.

  • • •

  As costume designers for the Metropolitan Opera, Betty’s parents spent their days designing Viking costumes for men with small bones and transforming plump prima donnas into starving French peasants. On countless occasions, I’d seen the evidence of their work lying half stitched in the living room, but I’d never been invited to visit their studio.

  “Ever wonder why we live in a basement?” Betty asked Iris, her hand poised on the knob of a door posted with keep out signs. “This is why.” She opened the door to reveal an enormous work space packed with costumes of every imaginable description—donkeys, Romans, sultans, and geishas. “We’d never get this much space above ground, and sunlight destroys the color of the fabrics.”

  “You could make a fortune on Halloween,” Iris marveled.

  “My parents would never loan this stuff out. In fact, they’d probably kill me if they knew what I was doing.” Betty walked over to one of the clothes racks and began rifling through the hangers. “How do you like this, Ananka?” She held out a pink costume with gossamer wings.

  “Very amusing,” I droned.

  “Can I try it on?” Iris’s hazel eyes twinkled.

  Betty peered down at the girl in confusion. “I don’t think it’s the right size for you. Besides, you’re almost twelve. Why would you want to dress up like Tinker Bell?”

  Iris stared at her green ballet flats. “I was just thinking that I could use an outfit like that in case you guys needed my help again sometime. You know, when you need someone to look like an innocent little kid.”

  “I doubt we’ll have any need for a fairy. How about a little mermaid? You could do surveillance from fountains.” I was the only one laughing.

  “You’ve been spending too much time with Oona,” Betty scolded. “Looking young isn’t the only thing you’re good at,” she told Iris. “If some people want to treat you like an eight-year-old, that’s their problem. Don’t forget that you’ve already saved their butts once. With your brains, I’m sure it won’t be the last time.”