The Hidden Library (33 page)

Her acceptance of this isn’t any easier than mine. “We were there for close to an hour and toured the entire space. What you are telling me is impossible.”

“Your Majesty,” the Cat says from his perch, “you of all people know the impossible is quite possible. Except, perhaps, the creation of proper strategy tea in this Institute of yours.”

“In Wonderland, yes. Here?” She waves a hand around. “Not so much.” To me, she says, “We need to go back there.”

The A.D. smacks the table. “I’m telling you, there’s nothing there!”

“There was,” I correct, “one thing.”

Her eyes narrow as they take me in, almost as if she’s bracing herself.

“I found a photograph.”

She whips to face my father. “You showed one to Todd. You asked him about it. He said . . . He claimed Rosemary took it.”

That’s news to me.

Alice touches my arm, brings back my attention. “What was the photograph of?”

I take a deep breath. Even now, just thinking about it is creepy. “Us. It was of us, the first time we ever went to the coffee shop down the street.”

It’s rare to ever see Alice rattled. Nothing fazes her. But her mouth drops open now, just a little. Her eyes go wide. She says quietly, “There was a photograph of the two of us in Lygari’s home? One taken prior to any introduction to the gentleman?”

I nod. “It was where the Carroll exhibit was.”

“He had photographs of Carroll’s,” she whispers. “Dozens of pictures of little girls. He—he had a picture of the real Alice.”

“You
are the real Alice.”

“Is anyone real?” the Cat murmurs.

“I . . . Mary and I met him at that dance club. He told me his name was Lygari. He said—” She shakes her head, more pissed than confused. “He had on a ring. A blue ring. I saw him again, at the Public Library. He asked me to coffee. He has two names. Why does he have two names? He said . . . He said, ‘Many of us do.’ What does that mean?” She blinks before refocusing. And then, in a low, cold voice, “He had a photograph of us, Finn. Taken by Rosemary. Lygari knows Rosemary. We must assume he knows Todd and possibly Jenkins as well.”

“Let us question Rosemary and Jenkins, as well and—”

Alice cuts my father off mid-sentence. “Lygari is a patron of the New York Public Library.” She snaps her fingers. “Mary, what day is it?”

Mary rattles off the date, but before she finishes, her eyes widen. In perfect unison, the ladies exclaim, “Tonight is the library fundraiser gala!”

Victor tosses his pencil at me. Mouths, “Told you.”

Asshole.

“The Caterpillar used to tell me that coincidences are not coincidental at all.” Alice looks at her Wonderlandian friends, flashing a grim smile. “He was quite insistent about that.”

The Cat sniffs. “For a pompous thing, he was usually right.”

“It is settled,” Alice says firmly. “We will go to the gala tonight and search for Lygari. I suspect more than one of us has questions for him. Perhaps it’s time we have a chat.”

A
N HOUR AFTER THE meeting ends, I visit the flat Jace and the Cheshire-Cat are residing in during their stay. While matters in Wonderland require their attention, both insisted on remaining at least one more day to ensure my recovery has taken. Jace and Finn are to create more poultices together in the morning before his departure, so that I will have enough to last throughout the week.

And then there is the matter of how he is giving us his blood for protection. I do not know how to properly show this wonderful man just how much gratitude I have for him.

“Does it really take a week’s worth of applications to ensure the boojum’s influence is gone?”

My former lover’s smile is wry. He is dressed in some of Finn’s clothes, and it is entirely jarring to see him so out of time in a flannel shirt and jeans. “I have no idea, to be honest. But it is best not to take chances.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. The Cheshire-Cat is in another room, napping in front of a sunny window. Grymsdyke is . . . well, I am not quite sure. Exploring the Institute, most likely. Finn is conferring with his father, and Mary is undoubtedly ensuring I have a dress proper enough for the evening.

I allow myself to touch Jace. Just a hand upon his arm, but I allow myself this anyway. “Thank you.”

The smile on his beloved face turns bittersweet. “I will always come to your aid if you need me. Always.”

I do not ask him why he stood back and allowed Finn to enact the blood magic. Truthfully, there is no need, as I already know the answer.
True love does not have limits or restrictions. True love allows a person to love deeply and unconditionally. True love does not ask you to let go of life. True love encourages you to live.

Instead, I walk over to the window and pull back the curtain. He comes to stand with me, and we watch the taxis and cars far below zoom down the streets, honking, and the helicopter in the sky blocks away, and the people in their races to get everywhere and anywhere.

“New York is not as I imagined it to be.”

My head tilts toward him. “No?”

“It is so busy.” He sounds sad, even. “So vast and yet so small all at once.” A hand presses against the cold pane. “The sky is lost amongst such giants.”

He speaks my own heart’s secrets. “Do you remember that day in the Field of Daydreams?”

He chuckles, and dozens upon dozens of warm, happy memories flood me at such a beloved sound. “Of course. It is a favorite of all my favorite days, I think.”

“Mine, as well.”

“The sky,” he says softly, “was more of an ocean than a sky that day. The waves were gentle, the crests foamy. We were happy that day.”

We were, indeed. He and I had ridden out by ourselves, much to the consternation of our Grand Advisors. We lay beneath that ocean and talked for hours. The grass was velvety, the flowers sweet with their songs. We did not get too many days like that, lazy, warm days built upon feelings rather than experiences, nor many more visits to the Field of Daydreams in the year that followed. But that day was a picturesque one. It was sublime.

“The sky is not the same here,” I tell him. “It is just sky and nothing more.”

“Do you miss Wonderland?”

I focus on the scene before us rather than his face. “Desperately.”

“It misses you.”

Gone unsaid, by the both of us, is how much we miss the other.

“Have you—”

“Yes,” he says softly. “Last week. The White Queen and I had an official treaty signing and ceremony announcing our joint resolve. It was, what we thought, a shot straight at Hearts’ psyche, but now I wonder if she was even in Wonderland to know of the alliance.”

“I am sure you still had Red’s wrath.”

He chuckles again. “Yes. Apparently she had effigies of the both of us thrown to the bandersnatches during games meant to mark the occasion.”

My smile fades. “It is a sad state of affairs for Wonderland for Monarchs to have to sign treaties with their counterparts to ensure alliances.”

“It is, indeed.” He blows out a hard breath. “And still, I would not turn my back to the White Queen, Alice. Her knives are sharp.”

“Nor would I.”

“She is in love, you know.”

My eyebrows lift up.

“He is, from what my spies tell me, of the Red Court.”

“No!”

An easy grin stretches across his face. “Yes. The Knave, if I’m not mistaken. Perhaps not exactly love, but it is assuredly lust. I find this to be most amusing.”

“I would have thought she would have pressured you into a more permanent alliance by now.”

“It was suggested,” he says carefully.

I would not hesitate to lay wagers upon it was more than suggested. The White Queen has long coveted her counterpart. I cannot blame her, though.

“I wish them well, then.”

“Shall I tell her you said that?”

It is my turn to laugh. “I would delight in seeing her face at such news.” More soberly, “Does she know you are here?”

“No. I left word I was on a secret campaign and that I would return shortly.” His nearly colorless eyes track back to the glass. “We are set to hold a joint meeting in four days’ time. It will be good for our troops, I think. The war has left many disheartened and disillusioned.”

“Jace . . .”

It is his turn to put a hand on me. A gentle one, with fingers curling around my forearm. “You must not worry about such things.”

The truth is whispered. “I cannot help but do so.”

“I know. And yet, I would ask of you to not anyway. It does neither of us any good, our worries about the other. Now. I believe you must get ready for tonight’s party, do you not?” His smile is warm and reminds me of happier days together. “You have a man to hunt.”

“I do not have a good feeling, Jace. This Lygari man is . . .” I shake my head. “He leaves me uneasy.”

“I ask of you to trust those instincts, then. They have never steered you or I wrong.” He lifts my hand and presses a kiss against my inner wrist. “Perhaps in the morning you and your Finn can take me to this coffee shop everyone keeps talking about so that I may finally have my initiation into this world.”

Only to shortly leave it behind.

I head back to my flat and find several dresses already laid out upon my bed. Say what you will, in this moment I truly appreciate Mary’s meddling, as the last thing I want to do is dig through my closet with great frustration.

After sunset, we arrive at our destination. The New York Public Library is beautiful tonight. The domed room we are in, the Celeste Bartos Forum, is practically dripping splendor. Warm, yellow lights mixed together in elaborate wreaths and hangings leave the atmosphere enchanting.

I am in a beautiful golden gown with the most handsome man in the room on my arm. When he first saw me in it, he couldn’t even speak.

I rather like this gown.

According to Mary, the Society has long been associated with the New York Public Library. There are those in its employ who know of the Society and of Timelines, often supplying books and research to the Librarian and various agents over the years. Society members in New York often become patrons of the museum, as their interests overlap. As we got ready for the evening’s events, she told me that the Van Brunts have been very loyal with their patronage, starting with Katrina. At one point, Finn and Victor’s mother actually volunteered at the public library on a regular basis. Now, they come to the fundraising gala every year that she delighted in attending, and donate vast amounts of money or books in her name.

Finn and I mingle with other guests, drinking champagne and nibbling on canapés. Our eyes are constantly surveying the room for Lygari. Mary and Victor are also present, doing the same. Van Brunt is in deep conversation with a woman I do not recognize, and I tease Finn it appears she is flirting shamelessly with his father.

The A.D. is outside in a van filled with screens and computers. Henry Flemming is with him, alongside Marianne Brandon. We are all fitted with tiny earpieces in case we find Lygari.

“This isn’t the date I envisioned,” Finn murmurs in my ear.

I offer him a meaningful smile over my glass of champagne. “I thought I made myself clear that I do not require dates.” I lay my hand against his face. “You and I . . . We are beyond such things. Courting is meant to endear lovers to one another. I am already hopelessly attached to you, Finn Van Brunt.”

He kisses the palm of my hand just as one of the fundraising chairs comes over to where we’re standing. She’s brought with her the deputy mayor of New York, and it turns out both know Finn. I listen to them chat about various library issues without adding much, using the time to continue my surveillance whilst offering small, noncommittal sounds to indicate my participation in the subject.

Nearby, the librarian named Bianca Jones gives me a pair of thumb’s up and makes a heart shape with her fingers.

I quickly look away.

I’m just about to return my full attention to the conversation when . . . There. Over by a stack of books, a slim flute with golden bubbles in her chubby fingers, stands a woman I did not believe I would ever lay eyes upon again and yet fervently prayed to do just so.

I came for Lygari and found a quarry much, much more desirable.

I stare at her, eyes narrowed for nearly a minute, before I’m roused by a gentle squeeze of warm hand against waist.

My focus shifts back to Finn. Concern reflects in his eyes; expectation, too, as if he knows I have found prey. I allow a reassuring smile, as this is not the moment to inform him I am planning the assassination of one of Wonderland’s foulest plagues at an elegant party. “Did I miss something whilst woolgathering?”

It’s clear he doesn’t buy my attempts at lightheartedness, but Finn has enough manners to not question me further in front of acquaintances. The chair, however, says, “I apologize for going on and on about fundraising, Ms. Reeve. I realize that it’s not the most entertaining topic at such a gala, not when there are other much more exciting things to do.”

“Do not be silly.” I offer up another smile, even while, out of the corner of an eye, I observe the Queen of Hearts sip her champagne. She thinks to catch me off-guard, does she? Does she have another boojum ready at the quick? “Fundraising for this magnificent library alongside literacy efforts is of utmost importance and I am keen to do my part in ensuring success. I apologize, though, as I must excuse myself momentarily.”