John smiled wryly, relief in his eyes. “Going to call one of your interesting friends, are you? Is one of them a curse-breaker, by any chance? An Egyptologist who knows a thing or two about pyramids and mummies?”
Arthur kept the smile glued to his lips. “You wouldn’t believe the half of it.”
Chapter Twelve
Before digging into eight days of missed work, Rory had gone up to the Meyerses’ apartment to give Lizbeth her letter. She’d squealed like he’d brought her a pony, and what he’d thought would be a five-minute drop-off turned into two hours as she demanded he tell her everything about the countryside and her new friend.
Mrs. Meyers sent him back to the antiques shop with a tin of jam-filled rugelach. He grabbed the mail from the lobby on his way in and took it to the counter with the old cash register. As he set the stack down, the ring on his finger caught the light. He frowned at it, then grabbed it and gave it a hard yank.
It didn’t budge.
He sighed and shoveled a cookie into his mouth as he started sorting the bills.
“Ahem.”
Rory swore loudly, dropping his stack to scatter on the ground.
Zhang’s flickering astral projection raised an eyebrow. “Italian?”
Rory jerked his thumb toward the office. “I’m not gonna swear in English in front of Mrs. B.”
“What’s that, dear?” Mrs. Brodigan poked her head out of the office and scanned the shop. “Who are you talking to?”
Rory gestured in front of him, where she’d see nothing but empty space. “Zhang’s here. Sort of here. Here his way.”
“How lovely! Offer him a cup of tea,” Mrs. Brodigan said, with clearly no understanding of how the astral plane worked, before ducking back into the office.
Rory balanced on his good ankle as he scooped the mail back up. “Why’re you flickering like a bad bulb?”
“Arthur’s on the phone with Jade. I’m at her place too.”
Rory’s eyebrows flew up. “You can be in two places at once?”
Zhang shrugged, like juggling conversations on the astral plane was child’s play. “Ace thinks his brother John is the victim of magic.”
Rory’s eyes widened and he made a half step forward. “Is Ace okay? How ’bout John—?”
“Arthur can’t give details over the phone; too many people. Even I’m staying out of City Hall until I can go in alone, in case it’s rigged with magic. We need him up at the Magnolia with Jade and me to speak freely.”
“So why isn’t he already on his way?” Rory demanded.
Zhang pointed at Rory.
“Aw geez.”
“He thinks he needs to come get you.”
Rory set his pile of letters on the counter. “Tell him not to worry about me. I’ll finish up and then catch a dimbox to Harlem.”
Zhang flickered out, then right back, making a face. “He’s not sure that’s a good idea on your ankle,” he said, in a wonderful imitation of Arthur’s accent.
Rory narrowed his eyes. “Tell him his brother’s gotta come first—”
“Or I could go back to Jade and stay out of your spat,” Zhang said dryly. “If anyone can convince him, it’s you.”
Rory automatically reached for the link in his magic, finding the sense of Arthur to the south. He huffed. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just call up City Hall and ask for the office of the alderman in charge. They’re gonna put me right through.”
Zhang hesitated.
“What?” said Rory.
“Not my business, except...” Zhang tilted his head. “Ace is trying to hide it, but he’s shaken. Maybe he’d like to hear your voice.”
Rory opened his mouth, then paused. “Oh.” He straightened up. “I—really? You think so?”
Zhang looked at him patiently. “You’re very new at relationships, aren’t you?” Rory made a sour face, and Zhang added nicely, “If you were worried, would you want to talk to Arthur?”
“Course I would.”
“Then why wouldn’t Ace feel better after a call from the twenty-year-old hellcat he dotes on?”
Rory narrowed his eyes. Zhang touched the brim of his hat as he disappeared completely.
Rory’s stomach flipped over as he went into the lobby, but he made himself pick up the party line telephone. He hunched over the phone, ignoring the glances of the three or four people hanging out in the lobby as the operator’s voice sounded in his ear. “How may I direct your call?”
Rory hesitated. “Um. City Hall?” he tried, feeling stupid, like he was trying to read out loud in front of a bunch of judgmental Fifth Avenue pricks. “The head alderman?”
Great, now all the eyes in the lobby were shamelessly glued on him.
“One moment, please.”
He fidgeted as the operator connected the line.
A woman finally came on. “New York City Aldermen, office of Aldermanic President John Kenzie.”
“I’m calling for Ace. I mean, Mr. Kenzie. Arthur Kenzie. Mr. Arthur James Kenzie.” Rory cringed. “The alderman’s brother. He’s supposed to be there.”
“I see.” She sounded unimpressed. “And who are you?”
Rory chewed on his lip, but what could be the harm? He couldn’t be the only one in the city, even. “...Theodore Giovacchini.”
He wasn’t expecting the rush of emotion that came with using his Italian name, the way his lips remembered the language. The way it felt to have someone he could be Italian with again.
“Giovacchini, you said?” The woman’s voice was even cooler. “I will let Mr. Kenzie know.”
A few moments later, a familiar deep voice was on the line. “Jade said you were about to call. You didn’t have to.”
Arthur’s voice was perfectly polite. Too polite, like a mask. Rory frowned. “What’s going on with your brother?”
“I was going to come pick you up,” Arthur said, which wasn’t an answer, but then, Zhang had said he couldn’t talk freely at City Hall. “I can wait until you’re ready—”
“We got eight days of work at the shop,” Rory interrupted, “and if I leave, Mrs. B’s gonna do it all herself. Go to the Magnolia now.”
“But—”
“Ace, I’m fine.” Rory kept his voice quiet as the lobby’s loiterers were strained to listen in. “Go tell Jade and Zhang about your brother, and then I’m gonna come to you. The three of us got—you know. We got some talents. We’ll figure it out.”