WE’RE BACK AT the warehouse, and I’m dumping out the bag of goodies I stole from the mansion. Margo is really relieved to see us. And she’s very excited about the champagne. She rubs the bottle between her hands.
“Darling,” she says to Lamont. “We cannot drink Dom Perignon out of tin cups. That is where I draw the line!”
“I agree,” Lamont says. “Let me go downstairs and see what I can find.”
Margo waits until Lamont is out the door. Then she scoots over next to me and brushes the hair off my forehead. There’s a big bruise there, turning into a big red lump. Obviously, she noticed it when we came in. Along with the red mark on my cheek. And the welts on Lamont’s wrists.
“What in God’s name happened to you two tonight?” she asks.
Lamont’s been pretty quiet about the whole episode since we got back, and I’m not sure he wants Margo to know just how close we came to not coming back at all. All he told her was that something big and dangerous was up and that he’d explain later.
“I banged my head on one of Lamont’s secret doors,” I say.
Margo smiles.
“Oh, I know all about those,” she says. “One night, coming home late, I got my dress caught on one of those damned hinges. Almost stripped me bare!”
“Victory!” Lamont’s voice comes booming from the doorway. He’s holding up three medium-size laboratory beakers.
“I hope you washed the hydrochloric acid out of those things!” says Margo.
“Fresh from the box,” says Lamont. “Pristine Pyrex.”
“Pour away!” says Margo.
The three of us gather around our little crate table. Lamont pulls the foil off the champagne bottle. Underneath, there’s a little wire cage around the cork. Lamont looks at me with his eyebrow raised. He taps the foil and the wire.
“Good thing nobody was looking too closely,” he says. How was I supposed to know there was metal on a champagne bottle? Lamont unwraps the wire, then presses his thumbs against the bottom of the cork.
POP!
The cork shoots across the room and bounces off a wall. Bando barks and chases after it. A stream of bubbles spurts out of the bottle.
Lamont pours some champagne into Margo’s beaker, then some into his. He looks at me.
“What’s the legal drinking age these days?” he asks. “Still twenty-one?”
“Sixteen,” I say. “Twelve if you work on a farm or a fishing boat.”
“Are you making that up?” asks Lamont.
“Yes, I am,” I say.
Lamont pours some champagne into my beaker anyway. I hold it up to my nose, then tip the beaker back and let the champagne touch the tip of my tongue. My first taste of champagne. It feels fizzy and sweet. I gulp down the whole beaker. The bubbles burn my throat.
Then I burp. Can’t help it.
“Goodness gracious, Maddy!” says Margo. “Sip! Don’t guzzle!”
“This tastes…amazing!” I say. What’s even more amazing is the feeling in my head right now. A little numbness right above my eyebrows and a warm buzz at the top of my skull.
Margo shaves off a slice of cheese with a butter knife and holds it out to me. “Try this,” she says.
The cheese is so close to my face, I practically have to cross my eyes to look at it. There are little brown flecks all over it. My nose wrinkles up.
“What’s in there? Flies?”
“Truffles, darling,” says Margo. “Gift of the forest!”
“Tuber melanosporum,” says Lamont, slicing a piece for himself. “Delicious!”
I take a little nibble, then a little bite. The cheese is creamy and the truffle bits taste like…omigod! They taste like dirt! I spit out the cheese and wipe my tongue on my shirtsleeve. Ugh! I hold out my empty beaker to Lamont.
“Refill! Now! I have to get rid of this taste!”
Lamont pours me what’s left in the bottle. I drink it down in one gulp. Dirt taste gone. And then…here comes that little buzz again. So nice. Suddenly I’m not as achy anymore. Just a little sleepy. I move over toward Margo. In this light, she glows like an angel. I rest my cheek against her shoulder and kind of slide down her arm until my head is resting in her lap. So warm.
I look up at Margo’s perfect chin and then over at Lamont.
“Tell me everything,” I say.
“About what?” asks Lamont.
“About Shiwan Khan.”