“So,” Logan said after a long beat of uneasy silence. He was unsure of where to start. The man this boy would become had been like a father to Logan. He’d taken Logan under his wing and taught him everything he knew, but the boy in front of him was a stranger. “They call you Nibs?”
“Only those who don’t know better.” The Professor’s nostrils flared slightly, just as they had every time Logan or Esta had managed to do something to piss him off. It was eerie to see the action on this younger boy’s face. “You can call me James, since I assume we know each other.”
“Then you read the notebook,” Logan asked, still too nervous to feel relief.
“I did.” The Professor—James—leaned on the silver-topped cane. “It’s quite an object you brought me. Too fantastical to be true, really.”
“You don’t believe it?” Logan asked. Unease prickled at the nape of his neck. He has to believe. Logan was royally screwed if he didn’t.
“I don’t believe anything without proof,” James said, pushing his glasses farther up his nose. “You spoke of the Delphi’s Tear?”
“It’s here, in the city,” Logan told him. Apparently, the notebook hadn’t informed him about the package of other stones. Probably a good thing.
“You know this how?”
“It’s what I do,” Logan said, and when James narrowed his eyes, he explained further. “I mean, I can find things. Or, I guess I should say that I can find things that are imbued with magic. I can find other things too,” he said quickly, when James frowned at him, “but I’m most accurate when there’s some kind of power involved.”
“What about the rest of the artifacts? The stones and the Book?”
Logan felt his chest go tight. “The rest of them?” he hedged.
“You were supposed to deliver them to me, according to the notebooks. If the notes in those pages are to be believed, you should have a package for me. If you don’t have the package . . .”
“I had it,” Logan pleaded. “I swear I did.”
“But you don’t now,” James said, looking more than ever like the disappointed professor Logan had known.
“Esta took them,” he explained. “She knows how I am right after we slip through time, and she took advantage of it.”
“Esta?” James had gone very, very still. When he spoke again, his voice was urgent. “She has the Book and the artifacts. You’re sure of this?”
Logan nodded. “She left me here without them, and then those big guys picked me up before I could get to you.”
“Kelly’s boys,” James murmured, but he wasn’t looking at Logan. He was staring into the dark corner of the cellar, clearly thinking through something. Then, all at once, he seemed to come to a decision. “It’s an interesting story.”
“It’s the truth.”
“So you say. And I’m inclined to believe you, but I have no way of knowing for sure. You could have used the Book to deceive me.”
“I didn’t,” Logan said, feeling again the itch of panic. “You have to believe me.”
“Actually, I don’t. Which presents a problem—for you, at least.” He adjusted his grip on the head of his cane, a movement that was as much a threat as his words.
“Let me prove it to you,” Logan begged.
“How?” James asked. “What more proof could you possibly offer?”
“Let me find the Delphi’s Tear—the ring. It’s close. I know it is. I’ll find it and give it to you, and then you’ll know I’m not hiding anything.”
The boy’s expression didn’t betray even a flicker of interest. “You’re sure that you know where it is?”
“Not exactly,” Logan said. “But I could take you to it.”
James considered the offer. “Mooch!” he shouted, his voice bellowing louder than Logan would have expected from such a slightly built boy.
“Yeah, Nibs?” The redhead appeared at the top of the steps with a speed that told Logan he’d been waiting.
“Bring Jacob and Werner and come down here.”
That wasn’t the reaction Logan wanted. While James watched the steps expectantly, Logan tested the ropes on his hands. If he could loosen them, maybe he could wiggle free. But the ropes were as tight now as they had been when Mooch first tied them, and before he could do anything, the three larger boys had come down the steps and were waiting for further orders.
“You wanted our help?” the sandy-haired one asked, and Logan gasped as he felt the air pressed from his chest.
“Not yet, Werner,” James said, his gaze on Logan. “We need him alive . . . for now.”
BREAKING AND ENTERING
1902—New York
When they finally arrived at the building, Jianyu looked up and found the darkened windows of the apartment where Cela said Evelyn lived and wondered—not for the first time—if the path he had placed himself on was the right one. As a child, he had never intended to become a thief. And now, because of the choices he’d made, he was without country or home, far from his family and in a situation beyond his imagining or his control. For a moment he looked up at the darkened sky above him, the sweep of stars that were the same constellations of his youth.
He found the stars that were the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, as he often did on clear nights. In the tale, the two were banished from each other, divided by the band of the Silver River, just as he was divided by a continent and a sea from his boyhood home. But Jianyu’s own choices had led him from his first home, and there would be no magpies to carry him magically back, and even if there were, he couldn’t go. Not without the queue that was prescribed by Manchu law.
The future to come was unknown. His path was surely here now, in this land, but what might he do with it? Where might he go or what might he become if he were not bound by the Brink, now that he could not return to his homeland? And if the Brink was to remain, how would he choose to live in this world, where he was?
But the questions were premature. No future would be possible if the stone fell into the wrong hands. So he would make the choice to become a bandit—a thief—once more, to have a chance at some other future.
“You’re sure she lives here?” Jianyu asked.
Cela nodded. “I had to fit her wardrobe a few months back when she was too busy or lazy to come in when the theater was dark. We should have plenty of time.”
“We?” Jianyu said, turning to her as panic inched up his spine. He couldn’t get the stone and keep her safe. “You’re not coming,” he said, his tone more clipped and short than he had intended.
“Like hell—”
“I need you here,” he told Cela, trying to calm her temper before it erupted. There was not time for an argument. “To watch for any trouble.”
“And just what am I supposed to do if I see some?” Cela asked doubtfully.
“Warn me.” Before she could argue further, Jianyu added, “Can you make a birdcall of some sort? The window is open.” He pointed to the way the curtain fluttered from the open window.