“Hello, Ebenezer,” she said. “Mr. Grange, it is, um, nice to see you too. Excuse me, I think I need a refreshment.”
“I shall accompany you,” Ebenezer said, holding out an arm awkwardly. Agnes took it and they left the foyer. Mr. Grange followed them, craning his neck to search for Xavier.
“Do you think they rented those tuxedos?” Robert asked with a smirk. “Oh, I heard James Roth is here as well. He’s starring in this mysterious, one-night-only production, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“He must be sad Xavier’s getting out of the theater business. Your father made him famous.”
“Master Leo, there you are!” Kiernan came hurrying up to him. He looked a proper Kaolin gentleman this evening—gone was the kohl around his eyes and the seashell in his hair. His tuxedo fit him well, though the cummerbund was a bit tight around his stomach.
“Mr. Kiernan, may I present Robert Conway, of the Conway Rail family,” Leo said. “Robert, this is Ezra Kiernan. Mr. Kiernan has been instrumental in helping my father with this new endeavor.”
“How do you do,” Robert said politely, shaking his hand. But Leo could read the look in his eyes that said, So this is the Pelagan.
“A pleasure, dear boy, an absolute pleasure. My apologies, but I need to steal your friend away. It is nearly time for the demonstration!” Kiernan was close to bouncing up and down with excitement.
Leo thought he was going to be asked to recount his experience with the Arboreal and Sera’s blood. He hadn’t been looking forward to sharing that he’d been attacked by a tree.
“What demonstration?” he asked as Kiernan led him away into the drawing room. Xavier stood by the mantel talking to Robert’s father, both with drinks in hand. Mr. Grange hovered close by, pretending to be part of the conversation. But Xavier was focused only on Mr. Conway; he’d never invested in any McLellan productions, and Leo knew it was a sore spot for his father.
“Ah, Leo.” Xavier waved him over. “I was just telling Hubert that he’s going to be exceedingly grateful I invited him here tonight. I’m letting him in on the ground floor of an earth-shattering discovery. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, sir,” Leo said, but neither man was really paying attention to him.
“Now, Xavier, you don’t want to oversell yourself,” Mr. Conway said, wagging a finger.
“Oversell? Why, not at all. Just wait till you see what she can do.”
“She?” Mr. Conway raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on here, McLellan?”
Xavier smiled and put his glass down on the mantel.
“If I could have your attention, please,” he called to the room at large, and silence fell. Agnes and Ebenezer were standing off by the windows, and his sister kept glancing toward the stairs. Leo guessed she was worried about Sera. With a start, he realized he was worried too. And not just about her but about everything—this party, this new direction the business was taking, whatever role he would be expected to play in it. The future he had so confidently envisioned for himself only a few days ago was not so clear anymore.
“As many of you know,” his father continued, “I have been working in secret for quite some time on a brand-new venture, one that will reshape the McLellan empire. Ezra, if you please.”
Swansea came in with an easel and several large boards. Kiernan took one and placed it on display. It was a blown-up photograph of Boris, the one Leo had seen at dinner, only much larger.
“It’s just a tree,” Sebastian Horne scoffed. “What are you playing at, Xavier?”
“This is no ordinary tree, Sebastian,” his father said. “It is called an Arboreal, and it possesses a unique and wondrous power—laugh if you must!” he added, because there were some chuckles among his audience. “But this creature can turn a crumbling farmland into a green oasis. How many of you have ties to the agricultural industry? How many resources have been lost this year, burned in the wildfires, drained to dust by droughts, crops ruined by blight and rot? This tree can change all that. Plant it on your property and I guarantee in one week your soil will be as rich and yielding as if freshly tilled. In two weeks, you’ll be ready to plant, and by the third week, I promise you’ll have a harvest unlike any you’ve seen before.”
“Impossible,” George Wilkes cried.
“I assure you it is not,” Xavier said. “And I would appreciate being allowed to finish without any more outbursts.”
Wilkes fell silent, and Leo could sense his father’s pleasure grow. There was nothing he enjoyed more than dressing down one of his peers.
He motioned to Kiernan, who replaced the photograph of Boris with one of Errol. Leo had yet to see Errol out of his pond, and the picture was murky, mostly just a set of bulging eyes.
“Up next, we have a mertag. Very hard little creature to photograph. Have you ever thought about why Pelagan waters never seem to run dry, especially when Pelagans dine on fish day and night? And meanwhile the waters around Old Port have become too toxic for sea life, and the Gulf of Windsor is once again in danger of being overfished.” He looked at Wilbur Grandstreet. “Wilbur, how many more ships might you sell if the eastern seaboard, from Wenton to Pearl Beach, were suddenly flush with life? If the oyster beds returned, and trout and carp and pike became plentiful once more?”
Mr. Grandstreet looked pleased at being addressed personally. “Why, I can imagine a fair few. But we’ve been busy with orders since that island was discovered too, Xavier.”
“Ah yes. Braxos. I’m glad you mentioned it.”
Kiernan replaced the photograph of Errol with the one of the ruins from the Old Port Telegraph. Now that it was blown up to a much larger scale, Leo saw a shape on top of the doors to the ruins, and it looked sort of like the star pendant on the necklace hidden away in his sock drawer. But they couldn’t possibly be related. Sera had only just gotten here, and those ruins must have been hundreds of years old.
“The island of Braxos has not been seen in our lifetimes,” Xavier said. “Until now. Many believe these ruins hold gold or jewels or other riches. The deputy mayor was claiming last night at the Regent that it was filled with beautiful women who could make a man hand over his fortune with a single kiss.”
There were some chortles at that.
“But the legends I have heard come from a more reliable source and contain wonders greater than precious stones or women,” Xavier continued. “I have been told that the waves lapping at its shores can tell the future. I have heard that within its forests lies the power to speak to those who are dead. And I believe that these ruins’ walls contain the answer to a secret every man here would sacrifice anything to claim for his own.” He paused for dramatic effect. “The secret to eternal life.”
The men looked at each other uncertainly. Leo felt his own face go blank. Who was this source that told his father all these fantastical stories, and more importantly, how could he possibly believe them?
Hubert Conway was the first to speak up.
“Come now, Xavier,” he said. “These tales you tell are like fairy stories for children. A magic tree? A fountain of youth? You must think us mad to believe a single word you say.”