Thirteen

″What do you think he’s doing down there?” Gaige chewed his thumbnail and paced the length of the parlor.

Molly was sitting on the floor in her dress, her feet touching and knees splayed. She raised her hands over her head and blew out a long breath. “I imagine he’s consulting the time gods.”

My foot tapped the ground. The pitter patter sound was admittedly annoying, but I couldn’t stop myself. After I’d finished telling Cyrus about my encounter with Lachlan, there had been a distinct change in his countenance. My boss had taken a full minute of silence to think things through, and then announced he was going to the vortex. I was given orders to stay put in the station, and that had been that.

″What if he is deciding which one of us he’s going to sacrifice?” Gaige’s brown eyes were round and shiny. I couldn’t decide if he was desperate or delusional. Or just being Gaige. “Someone has to go down for this, even if only for precedent.”

″To whom?” I asked. Even as the words escaped my lips, I remembered that entertaining Gaige’s wild theories was rarely productive.

″Time,” Gaige replied, as if the answer was obvious.

″I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Charles interjected. He’d been quiet, sitting in the corner and keeping to himself.

″Neither does he,” Molly assured Charles, pointing at Gaige. Exhaling, she bent forward until her forehead touched the floor and held the yoga pose.

″What if he’s calling in time SWAT?” Gaige posited next.

″That’s not a thing,” Molly answered without missing a beat.

″Enforcers are a thing,” Gaige shot back. “What if they’re on their way right now to drag us out of here?”

His question reminded me of the men who’d hauled Baylarian from the Fountain Grill. They were Carolla’s men and likely more violent than the syndicate enforcers. The group was muscle for the Black Hand Gang.

″Cyrus is not arresting us.” I rolled my eyes like the idea was as ridiculous as sacrificing one of us to the time gods or whatever. “Also, enforcers are only called in when a target won’t go without a fight. Nothing I said could’ve given Cyrus the impression we were going to clash with his wishes.”

Gaige continued like he didn’t hear me. “Did you tell him about Holton? That the guy’s dirty? Maybe that will distract him from our crimes.”

I sent Gaige a withering glare. “Sorry, it must have slipped my mind. Family drama and time traveling serial killers have a way of making a dirty alchemist seem minor. Plus, we absconded to an unauthorized time with a client’s acquisition, which sort of makes us look dirty. In case you’ve forgotten, we have Jane’s broach hidden beneath the floorboards in our room.”

″Is that where you hid it? I’d almost forgotten it was here,” Gaige admitted.

″Seriously, guys?” Molly sat up, and then her eyes popped open and scanned the room. “He’s talking to Flamel.”

″Where did you get that idea?” Gaige wrinkled his forehead.

She narrowed her gaze and started to say one thing, but then decided to go in a different direction. “Stassi told Cyrus about seeing Baylarian and Lachlan, which the boss was totally not expecting. He went all Cyrus and clammed up, and then he says he’s going to the vortex. What else would he be doing? Who else would he possible consult?”

The explanation sounded so logical, I was a little embarrassed that I hadn’t considered the possibility already.

″No.” Gaige shook his head. “That can’t be right. Too boring.”

″Boring?” Cyrus’s deep voice stopped us all cold. Four sets of eyes turned to our boss standing in the doorway. “No conversation with Nicholas is ever boring.” He pinned Gaige with his emerald stare. “Your mother wanted me to let you know that you’re grounded when you get back to Branson.”

″Grounded?” Gaige sputtered. “I’m an adult!”

″Well, you haven’t acted like one. Her words,” Cyrus replied.

″Did my parents say anything?” Molly asked, managing to sound both hopeful and nervous.

Cyrus frowned and then shook his head like he couldn‘t believe he was about to repeat the Drapers’ words for their daughter. “Your mother asked if you could purchase Ash of Eye from the apothecary on Bourbon Street. I offered to do it myself, but Sylvia said the vial could only ever be handled by one ‘of the blood’.”

This brought a giggle to my lips, though I felt anything but amused. Mrs. Draper was a scientist, technically. The creams and lotions she made were pure magic, though.

Molly’s cheeks turned pink, and she gave a stuttering laugh. “One point for Mom.”

Gaige’s eyes went wide. “Are you really a witch? Is that why they tried to burn you in Salem?”

Had my roommate been close enough, Gaige probably would’ve regretted the questions more than he did from her simple glare.

″Those women in Salem were not witches,” Charles interjected.

″Neither is Molly,” I added for good measure. “Because witches aren’t real.”

″Just like vampires aren’t real?” Gaige challenged. “From what I hear, there’s a bloodsucker stalking the Quarter right now.”

Up until that point, Cyrus had worn his impatient face. It was a lot like his thinking face, his happy face, and his furious face, only a little more pinched. Nevertheless, something in Gaige’s ridiculous rebuttal had stopped our boss from clapping three times and telling us to sit on our bottoms. Instead, he just shook his head and held up his hands, one toward me and one facing Gaige.

″Can we please focus?” he asked.

Gaige and I hung our heads and mumbled apologies.

Cyrus lowered his hands. “For your information, I was indeed speaking with Nicholas.” Turning his attention to Gaige, our boss added, “No, you are not being arrested.”

″We’re not in any trouble?” Gaige asked hopefully.

Cyrus’s laugh bordered on maniacal. “I absolutely did not say that. Once we deal with the immediate issues, we will discuss how you all will work off the fourteen months I spent looking for you. At the present, we know that Lachlan and Baylarian are here. We must find them.”

Molly had progressed to standing yoga movements, facing the wall as she struck a warrior pose. “That might be difficult. After the way Baylarian acted at Hotel Grunewald, Carolla is going to lock him up and throw away the key.”

″Carolla?” Cyrus scanned the room for confirmation. “Sylvestro Carolla?”

I nodded.

″You saw the three of them together? At Hotel Grunewald?”

Again, I nodded.

″Tell me about it.”

Between the four of us, we recounted the morning’s activities while Cyrus listened closely.

″Baylarian has time sickness,” he muttered when we were finished. “That explains why Lachlan didn’t jump immediately after seeing you, Stassi. Baylarian is too sick.”

In hindsight, it was a little odd the duo hadn’t blown town after the chance meeting on the street. Lachlan knew he was in New Orleans in violation of syndicate mandates, and he’d suspected I was a runner. With no reason to believe I wasn’t in the city on a sanctioned mission, a cautious runner would have jumped.

″Whatever Lachlan and Baylarian are doing here must be worth the risk of running afoul of the syndicates,” Cyrus continued. “If they are in bed with Sylvestro Carolla, my guess is they’re involved with bootlegging. Carolla is young right now but already a number two behind the Black Hand gang’s founder, Charles Matranga. A financially lucrative endeavor could give Carolla the backing he needs to take over the Black Hand Gang earlier than he’s supposed to.”

″That would be a bad thing, right?” Molly asked.

″A very bad thing,” Cyrus agreed.

Gaige raised his hand and waited for our boss to acknowledge him. “What are we going to do once we find them?” Then, remembering we were not currently our boss’s favorite runners, he tried to save his own ass. “Not that I’m questioning your plan, sir. I’m just—well, what is the plan?”

Cyrus didn’t answer right away. I couldn’t decide if he was choosing his words carefully or letting Gaige stew in his own juices for fun. Either way, I started to squirm. Was there an obvious answer we were all missing?

″We’re not going to…kill them, are we?” Gaige’s voice squeaked.

Cyrus′ expression didn’t change. “Did they train you as an assassin at the academy in Paris?”

″No?” Gaige’s response came out like a question.

″No, Gaige. They didn’t. We are not in the business of assassinations.” Cyrus sounded more confused than upset that Gaige had so readily jumped to murder. “Baylarian is an oddity in time. There is no record of his existence, and yet he is very real.”

″How is that possible?” Charles asked. “For there to be no record of his existence? He must come from somewhere.”

Cyrus smiled a genuine smile that only emphasized how tired he looked. “That is what we need to know. The Baylarian we have locked up isn’t talking. This one might.”

″How are we going to find him?” I asked. “How will we question him?”

Cyrus replied dryly. ″We are not going to do that. Victor and I are going to follow some leads. You four will stay here until we’ve located him. No one leaves while we’re out. Got it?”

All four of us nodded like contrite children.

After a quick visit to wardrobe for my boss to be properly garbed, Cyrus and Victor set off. Elizebeth served tea and a late lunch, but I had no appetite and was actively avoiding Charles. Instead, I opted to hang out downstairs in the music store with Liza and Peggy. Cyrus had ordered the alchemists to close the business for the rest of the day, so there weren’t any customers to assist. Instead, I accepted a cloth from Liza and helped her to dust and polish the merchandise.

″Are you guys in a lot of trouble?” I asked when I couldn’t stand not knowing any longer.

″Why would we be in trouble?” Peggy put her hands on her hips. “Are you guys fugitives or something?” The tone of wonder suggested she hoped we might be.

″Or something,” I admitted.

″No one is in any trouble,” Liza promised her sister, shooting an irate stare my way behind Peggy’s back. “Go see if the others need anything, won’t you?”

Peggy and I both knew a dismissal when we heard one. Still, the trainee remained defiantly in place until Liza added, “Now, Margaret.”

I waited until I heard Peggy stomping down the second-floor hallway before speaking. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even teased her.”

Liza waved off the apology. “It’s fine. She’s always been prone to dramatics.”

″So, what did you tell him?” It was a self-serving question, of course. I hadn’t given details about my arrangement with the alchemists, and Cyrus hadn’t asked. Yet. I wouldn’t throw them under the bus and say I’d bribed them—that was just bad optics all around—but I also didn’t want to get caught in a lie if Liza had already admitted the truth. Cyrus did have that effect on people.

″Nothing. He didn’t want to talk to me. He didn’t want to talk to anyone until he saw you were safe.” She looked down at the rag in her hands. “He was very worried about you.”

Because I didn’t already feel badly enough about the situation. Of course, her admission wasn’t news to me. The man had aged visibly in the week since I’d last seen him. His appearance suggested the fourteen months that passed had felt much longer. Hearing Liza say what I already knew wasn’t easy, though. I had been selfish and childish for chasing through time in search of answers. I could have jumped back to Branson from London. I should have jumped back to Branson. Then Cyrus wouldn’t have spent all that time looking for us, worrying about us.

″There is something else you should know, Stassi,” Liza began.

Never a good way to lead.

″When Mr. Atlic arrived, I was searching the database for other royal children who disappeared under mysterious circumstances,” she continued. “He asked me not to continue the search.”

″What? Why?” I demanded.

″I don’t—I don’t know,” she stammered. “He asked what I was doing. I was so surprised to see him, I told him the truth. Mr. Atlic told me to stop, and that was it.”

Why did Cyrus care? Sure, she’d been using company resources for a personal project of mine, but that wasn’t strictly prohibited. Did Cyrus not want me to know the truth?

Does he already know the truth? I wondered.

Flamel told Charles he could tell me about himself when the time was right. Had he told Cyrus something similar about my parentage? Had Nicholas mandated that I only learn my true identity at the “right” moment?

″I did find a few possibilities before he arrived,” Liza added in a whisper.

″You did?” My heart hammered in my chest.

″There was a Flemish princess in 1200s that is said to have died around the age of three. She was the only true-born heir to the throne. One of her illegitimate half-brothers took the throne eventually. It has been widely speculated that the king’s mistress killed the princess to secure her own child’s claim.”

A Flemish princess? Did I feel like a Flemish princess? Not really.

″What was her name?” I asked.

″Eleanor.”

Did I feel like an Eleanor? Not really.

″Okay. Who else did you find?” I asked. Though I wasn’t fully passing on the idea of Princess Eleanor, I was interested in the other options.

″Lady Jane Grey. She was older. About—”

I cut her off with a wave of my hand. “I’ve met her. That’s definitely not me. Next.”

Liza sighed heavily. “There is also Anastasia Romanova. She was one of the daughters of Tsar Nicholas II of Russia. The entire family is said to have been killed in 1918, but many believe Anastasia escaped.”

The name seemed oddly coincidental. Stassi could easily have been a nickname for Anastasia. In fact, the alchemist in Paris had suggested using Anastasia on our run, because it sounded like a proper given name for someone called Stassi. Charles, Edward, and Richard had all kept at least a version of their given names, so it was only fitting that I would have too.

″1918?” I asked to make sure I’d heard correctly.

Liza nodded.

If Tessa had relocated me from 1918, then this was technically my home time.

Still, shouldn’t I feel more of a connection? I wondered, and then had to remind myself Russia and America were very different places, even in the same year. Besides, I would’ve been very young when I was moved.

″How old was she?” I asked.

″Seventeen when the family was killed,” Liza admitted.

″Oh.” I lost a little of my enthusiasm for the idea. “Not me, then. What else you got?”

″I wouldn’t be so dismissive. Anastasia was reportedly a very sick child. She suffered from a number of ailments, and it is even rumored she died when she was very small. Some believe that the girl raised as Anastasia was actually a cousin born to the Tsarina’s sister out of wedlock.”

I frowned. “I’m not sickly. I’ve always been extremely healthy.”

Liza looked up. “That you recall. The medicines available to the common person in your time far surpass those available to royalty at the turn of the twentieth century.”

That was a good point. In the twenty-fifth century, we had all sorts of new viruses and bacteria and issues, but we also had cures and simple fixes for a lot of ailments that were once a death sentence. Still, it felt like a reach.

″You think it’s possible that Anastasia didn’t die? That maybe Tessa moved her to the future, and the family just swapped in a new kid? I don’t know.” I shook my head. “Maybe. Any other possibilities?”

″One other option. She was five years old when she mysteriously disappeared on a family vacation. Three months later, a mob stormed the Imperial Palace and murdered the emperor and empresses. Many believe the monarchy knew rebellion was likely and sent their daughter away. True loyalists believe they told everyone she’d died so no one would look for her.”

That sounded more promising. The age was close. The overall story sounded more in line with Charles and the princes′ situations.

″What’s her name?”

Liza tried to hide a smile. “Pingyang, in honor of the favorite daughter of the founder of the Tang Dynasty, Emperor Gaozu.”

Not so promising.

″Um, I’m not Chinese.”

Liza chuckled. “I noticed. Are you ready to consider the Anastasia theory more closely?” Liza arched an eyebrow. “It is either that or Princess Eleanor. Or….” She trailed off with a shrug.

″Or Cyrus stopped you too soon,” I finished. “Before you found the right person.”

″Yes. Or that. I could try and—”

″No,” I said quickly. “Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve done. Don’t take any more risks on my account. I’ll take it from here.”

My boss hadn’t returned by nightfall. Dinner came and went with no word from him or Victor. When the menfolk didn’t appear by later in the evening, Elizebeth called her house and asked Mrs. Kaye to stay the night with her children. Neither she nor Liza dared leave the customs station, and even Peggy was holed up in the parlor reading. It seemed Cyrus hadn’t just put my friends and me on lockdown, but the alchemists were under the same order.

I passed the hours by avoiding Charles and contemplating the list of possibilities from Liza. I felt like the main character in a video game where I was able to choose my backstory. Did I want to be a Flemish princess named Eleanor, saved from her father’s mistress before the woman could carry out the dastardly killing? Did I want to be the daughter of the last Tsar of Russia, the lone survivor of a mass execution that killed the rest of my immediate family? Did I want to choose “other” and be no one of consequence?

Life didn’t work that way, sadly. Children didn’t get to choose the people who contributed to their DNA. My birth had already happened. The two sets of genes that had come together to make me had already joined. Wanting something to be true didn’t change facts. And the fact was that Cyrus would haven’t stopped Liza if there was nothing to find.

I was like Charles and Richard and Edward. Maybe I was Princess Eleanor. Maybe I was the Grand Duchess Anastasia. Maybe I wasn’t royalty at all. Maybe I was the daughter of a notorious mob boss or the heir to a political dynasty. Whatever the case, I was living on borrowed time.

Stop wasting it feeling sorry for yourself and being angry with Charles. He isn’t the enemy.

Had our roles been reversed—if I were the one to grow up with a nice family in the French countryside and he the orphaned runner—I couldn’t say I wouldn’t have kept the same secrets. I did understand why he had lied, and I wanted to give him the chance to tell the truth. He deserved that much.

Charles was sitting alone in the small courtyard where we’d fought the day before. He had his head tilted back, his face pointing toward the moon. I barely made any noise, but I could tell he knew I was there.

″Hey. I’m ready to talk,” I called to him.

His face was radiant in the silver light. “So am I.”