“You were up early this morning,” Bimmy said.

“Up early?” Audie tried to sound nonchalant as she buttoned up her boots.

Bimmy reached for her own button hook. “I heard you step out.”

“I wanted to make sure that postcard to the triplets went out in the first mail.” Even though it was for Bimmy’s benefit, Audie did so dislike misleading her friend. Though her statement was partially true, she could not bear the glimmer of suspicion in Bimmy’s eyes.

To Audie’s great luck, Cypher’s knock on the door was sufficient distraction. He had come to take them to breakfast and then on to the theater for rehearsals. The three had the elevator to themselves so Audie could not resist asking what he had learned.

Cypher had slept well so he didn’t see the harm in answering Audie’s question. “Well, our Oberon is really a man by the name of Wylie Wurme, also a magician and illusionist, but there is no evidence of Wurme ever performing Oberon’s signature act.” Cypher’s left eyebrow arched. “Seems his essential equipment goes missing in some way before each show.”

“So it wasn’t really stolen!” Audie exclaimed.

They had clunked to a stop on the ground floor and the doors rattled open. Cypher’s forefinger went to his lips. “Seems so,” was all he said as they stepped into the lobby.

The fourth chair at their table in the nearby café remained empty all through breakfast.

“Perhaps Theo forgot she was to join us?” Bimmy suggested, crunching the last bite of bacon on her plate. She wiggled her fingers. “Maybe she ran out of string.”

“Or maybe she was working late at the theater.” Audie sprinkled a little more brown sugar on her oatmeal. “And overslept.”

“I think it’s likely the latter,” Cypher said. “According to Mr. Houdini, there were still a lot of loose ends to tie up.” He took note of the time and then encouraged the girls to finish up. “I don’t relish paying the five-dollar late fine,” he told them as he paid the check.

As minor acts on the bill, they did not have grand dressing rooms of their own. Cypher shared one with the English acrobats, a tap dancer, and Herring’s trainer, as well as some of the other men and boys. The women’s shared dressing room was on the second floor, up a rickety, narrow stairway. Audie and Bimmy politely stopped at the bottom, allowing the opera diva to go ahead of them.

“Buongiorno.” The diva acknowledged them with a dip of her head.

“Buenos dios.” Bimmy winked at Audie. “That’s how we say good morning in our native country.”

“Buenos dios,” Audie echoed, unaware she was mimicking an inaccurate phrase.

The opera diva was a solid woman and it took some time for her to progress up the stairs. As Audie waited her turn to ascend to the dressing room, she glanced around backstage. Ten in the morning was the theater’s witching hour, when everything came to life. Some stagehands were testing the ropes, some moving props, and one of the costumers was mending a tear in the thick velvet stage cushion.

A flash of fur low to the ground caught Audie’s attention. Chocolate-striped! Min!

Audie stopped herself from calling aloud. Surely a cat would not be a welcome backstage addition. If Bert knew, he would be likely to throw her out. But how did Min get there? And where was she headed?

“I’ll be right back.” Audie dashed after her cat, following her down the stairs. Min’s pace picked up and so did Audie’s. The smell was powerful in this space deep below the grand stage: Old hay and animal dung made Audie’s eyes water. But she ran on, after Min.

When she saw Min slip between some heavy metal bars, she couldn’t help crying out. “Min! Take care.” Audie ran even faster, grasping the cold bars in her hands as she caught up with her cat.

There was Min, cradled in a baby elephant’s trunk. Though Audie’s ears were not buzzing, her heart began to pound. Elephants were dangerous! She herself was an orphan all because of these great beasts. She tried to call to Min, but all the saliva had gone from her mouth. Her tongue clicked against dry teeth. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Here, Min. Here, puss.” She patted her leg for Min to come to her.

But Min did not. She blinked, her golden eyes shining like flashlights into Audie’s heart. Audie’s grip on the bars relaxed. She watched Min nimbly climb up the elephant’s trunk to a flat spot near the back of its head. Then Min began bathing the elephant, as if it were a kitten, giving special care to the tops of its boat-sail ears.

This was a baby elephant, Audie could see that. An orphan, no doubt; who better than Audie to know the pain of that situation? “What’s your name, little fellow?” she asked, her heart softening. Audie glanced around and noticed a small placard on the wall near the cage. “Baby? Is that you?”

The elephant made a snuffling noise, raising its trunk slightly, as if confirming Audie’s guess. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, Audie could see that the young creature was chained to the wall. Her heart sank further when she saw the raw spots on its foreleg, the one ensnared in some kind of manacle.

Without words, Audie and Min and Baby remained in one another’s company for a good while, rehearsals and costumes and magicians completely forgotten.

*   *   *

Jamie shifted his cap back on his head, considering this intruder.

Maybe Helmut had tumbled to Jamie’s activities. Sent this girl as a spy. What else could she be up to? Wasn’t she a juggler, along with that Persian man? They must be some kind of team; they wore matching garish costumes. You’d never catch Jamie in laces and tights like that!

He turned back to the matter at hand. The girl.

Jamie shifted slightly in the dark recess, silent as midnight, but still the girl stopped. Turned. He ducked and nearly tripped over something low to the ground. Something alive. He shuddered, remembering the rat-infested wards at the orphanage. When he caught the stripes on the creature’s back, he exhaled in relief. It was only a cat! A cat that circled his legs before slipping fearlessly through the bars into Baby’s cage. What on earth? Curiosity overcame common sense, and he stepped out of the shadows.

“They’re friends.” The girl uttered the words as if in prayer. “Good friends.” She turned toward Jamie, her face ghostly in the dim light.

Jamie was so drawn to the scene that he was now standing at the girl’s shoulder.

“Are you Baby’s keeper?” the girl asked.

Jamie nodded. “Assistant,” he clarified.

The girl’s hand trembled as she pointed to the bull hook hanging on the wall. “Do you use that?”

“Never.”

She nodded. “I’ve read about them. In Harmsworth Natural History and other books.” She blushed, fearing she sounded quite the snob. “They’re social creatures, as well you know.”

Jamie grunted. He knew no such thing. Wasn’t even sure what “social” meant.

“Do you know they can live for seventy or eighty years?” she asked. “Well, more like forty in captivity.”

Jamie looked over at Baby. How old was he? Not even a year? He got sick at his stomach thinking of that sweet creature living another forty or fifty years under Helmut’s “care.” “That so?”

She nodded. “And it’s horrible what we do to them.”

Jamie stiffened. He had done his best to show Baby nothing but kindness. “I take good care of this one, I do.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that.” The girl slipped two volumes from the costume bag she carried and offered them to Jamie.

He glanced at the titles. Harmsworth Natural History. Animal Kingdom, Volume 1, it said. Volume one! How many books were there about animals? About elephants? “Might I borrow these?” Jamie asked.

“Of course.” The slim young thing held out her hand. “Audacity Jones. Audie to my friends.”

“Pleased to meet you, miss.” He shook, tipped his cap. “Jamie Doolan.”

Audacity cocked her head, as if listening for something. A long moment passed. It felt to Jamie as if his worth had been weighed and measured. “I can’t bear to think of Baby trapped here forever,” she said. “Neither can Min.” She nodded her head toward the cage.

“Is that your cat, then?” Jamie stuffed the books in his pocket. “Best to keep her out of Bert’s sight. He doesn’t like cats. Says they make him sneeze.”

“She’s very clever,” Audacity said. “She’ll stay out of Bert’s way.”

Jamie hadn’t much experience with cats. But this one did appear to have good sense. And Baby had taken to her, hadn’t he? “That’s a sight that warms my heart,” he added, watching cat and elephant together.

“Doolan!” A harsh voice shredded the quiet. “Where are you?”

Min jumped down, having completed Baby’s toilette.

“You two best be going,” Jamie urged. He reached for a pitchfork, so Helmut would find him working. “My boss wouldn’t like you taking up with Baby.” He flipped dirty straw into a wheelbarrow.

The shouting grew louder and closer.

“There’s a way out, over there,” Jamie said. “Hurry.”

“We’re going.” Audacity patted the bars of Baby’s cage. “But we’ll be back.”

“Mer-row,” added the cat.