Just as he was about to succumb to the phoenix and fly out—after all, hadn’t they all but demanded a performance?—something struck the side of his face. It fell onto the table, and he looked down. There, with its edges curled, smoldering, was a mousepad. On it, the words Don’t you wish you were here?
He jerked his head over his shoulder.
The crowd behind him had risen from their seats, climbing over one another to get away from the heat of the fire. No one had reached the doors quite yet, but not for lack of trying. Chairs were overturned, people shouted, hands raised above them as if to ward off the phoenix. They were scared, they were frightened, and for a moment, didn’t Arthur revel in it? Didn’t the phoenix scream again, only this time in pleasure at the sight of humans fleeing?
He did. It did.
Until he saw the one man who wasn’t running, the one man who stood with his hair whipping around his head, his shoulders squared. His eyes were wide, unsure as he looked up at the towering creature before him, but he did not back away, did not try to run. Instead, he stood his ground, his tie flapping against his chest.
Arthur turned around, facing him, in what was only the second time Linus had seen the fiery bird since his arrival on the island the previous year. The phoenix lowered its massive head toward him. When it was eye level, it chirped, cocking its head as it blinked rapidly. Linus raised a steady hand, and the phoenix clicked its beak before nuzzling his palm, eyes fluttering.
“There, there,” Linus said quietly. “All this fuss, and for what? You are good, Arthur, no matter what form you choose to take.”
“Linus,” both Arthur and the phoenix said at the same time, the man’s voice clear, the phoenix’s like a guttural exhalation.
“Come back,” Linus said as the phoenix bumped its head against his hand. “You’ve proven your point. It’s time, Arthur.”
He closed his eyes, and the bird shrieked once more—pointed, sharp, a reminder of his power to everyone within earshot—before it folded in on itself, head pointed at the top of Arthur’s head. It shot down, and he felt his body burn as the phoenix slammed back into him, his arms and legs jerking. It was over in a bright flash of light, leaving only the stench of smoke behind.
He took a stumbling step toward Linus, his knees weak as they usually were when he pulled the phoenix back. Grabbing his arm, Linus pulled him into a hug, the railing between them. Arthur sighed, bowing his head against Linus’s shoulder. “You with me?” Linus whispered.
“Yes.”
“Good. Then you must listen. Rowder made a mistake.”
He tensed but didn’t raise his head. “Tell me.”
“The children,” Linus said. “She mentioned them all by name.”
Arthur pulled back with a frown, ignoring the eyes of everyone upon them as they slowly realized there wasn’t a threat any longer, shuffling back toward discarded seats. “What do you mean?”
“David,” Linus said. “She mentioned David.”
For a moment, Arthur still didn’t understand. They’d mentioned all the children at one point or another, Arthur included. What did David have to—
When it hit him, it hit him hard. She couldn’t know about David because anyone who did was either on the island or in a halfway house waiting for Linus and Arthur to arrive. And the only time they had said David’s name in the city had been last night at the hotel, before finding the surveillance bug.
Arthur whirled around, Linus’s hand sliding down his arm, their fingers catching for a quick moment. It took Arthur only a few seconds to stand in front of the table once more, but by the time he did, he was back in control.
Sallow had fallen over the back of his chair and was now crouched behind his desk, only the top of his head visible as he peeked over. Burton was pale, mouth hanging open, eyes wide and filled with shock. Haversford’s face was in her hands, her shoulders shaking.
Rowder hadn’t moved. She sat where she had before, hands folded in front of her, thumbs pressed together. The gleam in her eyes could only be described as hungry, and Arthur cursed silently for giving her what she so obviously wanted.
People scrambling up in the gallery and in the rows of seats behind Arthur froze when she spoke. “That was … quite the display.” She sounded breathless, the feedback from her microphone causing it to squeal. “Now, hopefully everyone can see why we’re so concerned about the safety and well-being of the children under Arthur Parnassus’s care. Given how powerful he appears to be and how quick to anger he is, is it any wonder we’d question his intentions?” She stood abruptly, her chair wobbling back on two legs. It didn’t tip over. “We’ve seen quite enough. Mr. Parnassus, the Council of Utmost Importance thanks you for your testimony, and we will take what we learned today into consideration. You will be contacted shortly with the details of your home inspection. Any subterfuge will be considered an act against the government, and we will respond accordingly, up to and including removing the children from the orphanage and dismissing you from your post. Have a pleasant afternoon.”
With that, she began to move off the dais, immediately surrounded by a group of muttering staffers. Burton rose slowly, his lips pulled down. Sallow righted his chair and slumped back into it, looking dazed. Haversford looked off into nothing, eyes vacant as she brushed her fingers against the files in front of her.
“Madam,” Arthur called, voice carrying.
Rowder turned toward him. Everyone did. No one spoke, all waiting.
Arthur reached into the pocket of his coat. Making sure Rowder was watching, he pulled his hand out and held it over the table. He opened his fingers, turning his palm over. Bits of plastic and green wiring fell onto the table with a clatter. “I think this is yours.”
She cocked her head, her politician’s smile on full display. “I assure you, I have no idea what—”
“The listening device you had planted in my hotel room,” Arthur said, and as one, Haversford, Burton, and Sallow all turned slowly to look at Rowder.
Rowder laughed. “More baseless accusations, Mr. Parnassus? How expected. You should really consider—”
“I’m not convinced you’re in any position to tell me what I should or shouldn’t consider. Have a pleasant afternoon.”
He turned, pushing his way through the wooden gate. Linus fell in step beside him, and as everyone looked on, cameras flashing, reporters shouting questions, they strode down the aisle and left Netherwicke behind.
SIX
Not wanting to take the chance of additional listening devices or reporters finding out where they were staying, Linus decided they needed to change hotels. Arthur agreed tiredly, lost in his own head. They packed their suitcases with little conversation between them and left the hotel behind. Linus herded them onto a city bus, the rain falling steadily. Hands clasped tightly between them, the pair traveled for nearly an hour, Arthur staring out the window at the city passing by.
He startled out of a semi-doze when Linus said, “This is our stop. We need to find a phone. I bet the children are driving Zoe and Helen up the walls.”
“You have questions. I can see them in your eyes.”
Linus shook his head as the bus slowed, brakes wheezing. “There will be time for that later. Phone first, then room. We can talk after we’ve settled.”
Arthur nodded and followed Linus off the bus. They hurried across the sidewalk toward a hotel nowhere near as nice as the first. No bellhop, no grand sign hanging above the doors. Instead, it was a short, squat building nestled between a department store and a pub where loud music shook the walls.
A courtesy phone sat just inside the entryway. Linus picked up the handset and dialed a familiar number. Arthur leaned against the nearest wall, their luggage at their feet as he heard the tinny ringing of the phone.
Zoe answered on the third ring, and Arthur laughed quietly at her immediate outrage, her voice carrying through the line as Linus winced, pulling the phone away from his ear. “The absolute gall,” she snarled. “They’re lucky they haven’t yet showed their faces on my island. The moment they do, I’m going to turn them inside out and— No, Lucy. Lucy. That was a figure of speech. We’re not actually going to turn people inside out. Lucy, that was not permission for murder.” She sighed. “Yes, I probably shouldn’t have said that, but we really need to have a discussion about how quickly Lucy agrees to a plan whenever murder is mentioned.”
