Time's Divide (The Chronos Files Book 3) (21 page)

Kiernan shakes his head. “You’re reading more into that sketch than you should. It was drawn by a lovesick kid, the equivalent of a schoolgirl writing
Mrs. Johnny Jones
over and over in the margins of her paper. Wishful thinking.”

He scoops the last bit of fish into his mouth. “And now I’ve told you what I know. Once we’re done with Houdini, we’ll go forward, get the keys at CHRONOS, and let Connor work his magic on them. That’s going to shake up the Cyrist world, to say the least. We stop the Culling, you go back to your life, and I go back to my cabin.”

“Does Prudence get the keys before or after she takes the
Book of Cyrus
and
Book of Prophecy
to the past?”

“After,” he says. “She drops off the books about six months after she finds Saul and—”

“How does she even find him? What happened to her when she landed in the future?”

I’ve already heard Prudence’s abbreviated version. Will I get the same version from Kiernan that I got from her? And if I don’t, who’s lying?

“Why didn’t you ask her yourself?” He looks a bit smug about having caught me off guard. “Yeah, I remember you stopping by the cabin, Kate. I probably wouldn’t have if Martha hadn’t mentioned you taking a blood sample. So when you start talking about me keeping secrets, just remember that you started it first.”

“I did not! That was just last night . . . no. Not last night. It was earlier
today
. Which means it was after you lied to me in Georgia, after I saw you in London, and after you acted like a jerk at Houdini’s show.”

He stares at me like he’s waiting for me to catch on, and I do, after a moment.

“Okay. Fine.
Technically
, it was before all of those things for you, if it triggered a double memory, but—”

“I couldn’t remember everything we said. Everything was fuzzy, probably because of the mostly empty bottle of Old Grand-Dad on my kitchen table. But I remembered you saying something about talking to Younger Pru, back when she was mad at Saul. Not sure what else we said, but it occurred to me that next morning that pretty much any time I ever talked to Pru, she was mad at Saul. And that got me to thinking about how I could use that to our advantage.”

“So you deciding to play double agent . . . or triple agent, whatever . . . is my fault?”

He flashes a quick grin. “Maybe. Partly.”

“Whatever. I’ll take the blame. And yes, I talked to Prudence, but we didn’t have much time. I know she was injured when she landed at CHRONOS.”

He nods. “She never talked much about it, but I think she dreams about it sometimes, or at least she did when she was younger. Simon got some of the story from Saul, and I got some of the story from Simon when he was drunk. Pru jumped into that black . . . static. I don’t know if she did it on purpose or if it was an accident, but there was nothing below her aside from a gaping hole that went clear down to the basement. This Tate guy found Pru. She was the only one alive in the rubble. And it wasn’t just people who were at the headquarters the day it was bombed. Four or five historians who were stranded in the field were found down there, too.”

“Oh my God. Grant? He was staring at that stable point that night at Martha’s—”

“No clue. But that confirms my suspicion about the stable point still being there, just not being very reliable. Anyway, Tate gets the medics in there and they get Pru to the hospital. Most of her bones were shattered. She wasn’t doing any talking at that point, but her blood did the talking for her. They’d figured out whose daughter she was by the time she came to. Kept her quarantined, confiscated her CHRONOS key, but eventually someone slipped her another key, helped her get to Saul. Maybe the Tate guy, maybe—”

I’m so focused on what he’s saying that I don’t even notice Houdini until his hand is clutching Kiernan’s collar.

“Just as I thought. Sal said you were lurking around tonight.” Houdini’s expression isn’t nearly as friendly as it was on stage. He must realize that people are staring, however, because he drops Kiernan’s collar and laughs like it’s a big joke, slapping him on the back. “Good to see you again, my friend!”

He pulls out the chair next to me and steps to the side. I’m not sure why until I see Bess a few feet behind him. Houdini’s not much taller than I am, but Bess is so tiny that his frame completely blocked her from view. She slides into the chair, and Houdini takes the seat across from her.

The waiter hurries back over when he sees them. Houdini starts to wave him away, saying they’ve already eaten, but then he glances over at Bess, giving her a soft smile that crinkles his eyes.

“Unless you’d care for something, Mike? Some champagne, perhaps?”

It must be a nickname, because Bess shakes her head.

Houdini leans back in his chair after the waiter leaves, looking first at Kiernan and then at me. “I think introductions are in order. I won’t bother with our side, since you very clearly know who we are. So who are you?”

“Kate Pierce-Keller. This is Kiernan Dunne.”

“I won’t say it’s a pleasure,” Houdini says, “because it’s not. I’m here because Bess wonders why you wear a medallion identical to my good-luck charm.” He narrows his eyes and looks at my face again. “And I can’t shake the feeling I’ve seen you before. Otherwise I’d simply have sent Smith, so he could convince your friend here to adopt a more original stage name.”

“But . . .” I say, “you took your own stage name from another magician. Robert Houdin?”

Bess sniffs indignantly. “It’s not the same thing. Mr. Houdin died before Harry was even born. Taking that name was an homage. Mr. Boudini, on the other hand, is a competitor trying to profit from our hard work.”

Kiernan shakes his head. “I’m really not a competitor, ma’am. I’ve done a few shows . . .” He looks confused for a moment, and I realize he’s trying to sort out whether we’re before or after the shows he did at Norumbega. “I also . . . have a contract to do some shows in Boston in early July, and I’ll need to honor it. But that will be the end of The Amazing Boudini. The entire purpose was to get your attention so we could discuss this.”

He pulls the CHRONOS key out of his vest pocket and nods for me to do the same. “We tried to contact you several other ways, but we failed. My creation of Boudini was a last-ditch effort.”

“Your medallion was stolen from my aunt,” I say. “As you can see, it’s part of a matching set. My grandmother is dying, and her last wish is to see all of them back where they belong. If you can tell us where you bought it and how much you paid, we’d be happy to reimburse you.”

I’m pretty pleased with that as a bare-bones cover story. Every word of it is true, and it’s kind of nice not lying, especially since I suck at it.

The sincerity seems to have some impact on Houdini, because his face softens a bit. “My sympathies to you on your grandmother’s illness. But I’m afraid I cannot help you. There’s only one reason I wear this, and it’s the same reason no amount of money could convince me to part with it. I saw this charm in a case at Ira Davenport’s home back in 1899 and told Bess it reminded me of something I’d seen in Chicago just before I met her. Bess went back later and asked if he’d sell the piece, but he said it wasn’t especially valuable. He presented it to her as a gift. And she gave it to me.”

“He got his big break the
very next day
.”
Bess taps the table three times to emphasize each word, and that’s when I see the tattoo. It’s faded, barely noticeable, but definitely a lotus. “We played a full season in Omaha, and we’ve been booked solid ever since. It’s brought us wonderful luck.”

I glance over at Kiernan and direct his eye to her hands, which are back in her lap before he looks over.

Houdini laughs. “I suspect that’s mere coincidence. Nevertheless, I do know my wife worries less about my safety when I wear this. I’m not superstitious. Bess, on the other hand . . .”

I sigh. Time to add the next layer to the story. And since Houdini claims he’s not the superstitious one, I aim it at Bess.

“My grandmother’s request isn’t just sentimental, Mrs. Houdini. You may consider it a good-luck charm, but my family has found it to be the reverse. There are some individuals who can use these medallions to . . . harm people. We’re trying to prevent that. We’re also concerned they might try and take it from you by force.”

Again, all of that’s true, but it sounds overly dramatic, even to me. I’m not surprised when Houdini laughs.

“This is merely a piece of metal, Miss Keller. If it has any effect on me at all, it’s because wearing it reminds me that my wife worries about me. I take fewer risks.”

“What did Ira Davenport think? Didn’t he believe it could transport him to the spirit world?”

“If Davenport thought this item was in any way connected to another world, I doubt he’d have given it to Bess.”

“Did he know it was stolen property?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know him well enough to say for certain, but the Davenport brothers are respectable men. I can’t imagine either of them knowingly dealing in stolen goods.”

Bess gives me a challenging look. “Are you saying it was stolen from
you
?”

“No. It was taken from my aunt, in 1873, by Victoria Woodhull, although Woodhull claimed it was a gift. When my aunt tried to get it back, she learned it was sold to Mr. Davenport.”

Kiernan’s eyebrows go up, so he clearly didn’t know Houdini’s key originally belonged to Prudence. Houdini and Bess don’t look surprised, however, so they must have heard at least some of the story from Davenport.

“Mrs. Woodhull believed it had magical powers,” I say. “That it could transport her to the spirit realm if she learned to use it. When she couldn’t make it work, she sold it to Davenport.”

Kiernan leans forward. “I’m guessing that’s because you
can
make it work, Mr. Houdini. Maybe that’s how you manage . . .” He pauses when my kick lands on his shin, but finishes the sentence anyway. “. . . some of your more elaborate escapes.”

Houdini pushes back his chair and starts to leave.

“No! He doesn’t use it, Kiernan. Like I said earlier, the light never went out. And he’s . . . in Katherine’s books. From before. I think they’re telling the truth. He wears it for good luck.”

Houdini drops back into his chair. “What do you mean, the light never went out?”

“The escape behind the curtain. I could see a bright blue light above and below. I can see it now, coming from your key . . . your medallion . . . from all three of them. So can he.” I nod my head at Kiernan. “If you’d been using the key to help with your escape, it would have flickered out for a moment. And it didn’t.”

“What did I tell you?” Bess says excitedly. “It’s an aura.”

“It
might
look like an aura. I’ve never seen those. But it’s not related to spirits. It’s more . . . scientific. The medallion reacts to something in the blood of certain families.”

Bess nods. “The ability to commune with spirits runs in families, too.”

Houdini sighs. “Because families are better at sharing and keeping each other’s secrets, sweetness. They’re less likely to turn a so-called medium in to the authorities for bilking a client out of her life’s savings.”

Bess gives him a sassy look. “I’ve never claimed they’re all genuine. Obviously some of them are fakes, but you’ve a long way to go before you’ll convince me they’re all swindlers, and your mother would agree.”

That seems to silence Houdini, and Bess turns back to me. “Mrs. Woodhull told Mr. Davenport that the girl who gave her the medallion could disappear into thin air just by waving her hand above it. She said the girl told her it was a spirit device and that it had a bright green aura for her. If that was your aunt, maybe she wasn’t being truthful. Perhaps she really did give it away. You see, I’ve read Mr. Grumbine’s treatise on auras, and while it does depend on the shade, a green aura can be a mark of deception or dishonesty.”

I shoot Kiernan a smug glance. While I’m certain this aura stuff is total bunk, he and Prudence both see the light as green. “Does this Mr. Grumbine say anything about blue auras?”

“Again, it depends on the shade. But it’s usually associated with truth.” Her eyes widen, and she looks at Houdini. “What if she’s telling the truth? What if the charm is like that play we saw last year in London? About the monkey’s paw? Yes, it’s brought good luck so far, but . . .”

Houdini’s lips press into a firm line, and he looks annoyed, not so much at Bess as at me. It’s a see-what-you’ve-started-now sort of expression.

“I don’t think it’s brought any sort of luck, Mrs. Houdini,” I say quickly. “Good or bad. It’s like your husband said earlier. Just coincidence.”

“But he also said he’s seen you before! He told me tonight when he saw your face in the audience that you were there the first time he saw the charm. You’re the girl he saw vanish at the World’s Fair! Is that also coincidence?”

Kiernan gives him a suspicious look. “You performed at the Expo?”

“Yes,” Bess answers. “Along with his brother, Dash. They headlined as The Brothers Houdini on the Midway Plaisance.”

“Really?” Kiernan shakes his head. “I was there as well. For the
entire
run. I knew every headliner on the Midway.”

Houdini eyes shift slightly. “Well, we weren’t exactly headliners, but yes, we did perform at the Fair.” He turns to Bess. “And I said it looked like her, sweetness. But it can’t be. She’d have been a child twelve years ago.”

Kiernan glances around the restaurant and leans forward so he can speak more softly. “It wasn’t twelve years ago for her, Mr. Houdini. The medallion is a time travel device. I thought perhaps you were using it in your act, to help you escape.”

He holds up a hand when Houdini starts to protest. “If Kate says you’re not, I believe her, but there really are people who’ll be coming for that medallion. We’d like to keep it from falling into their hands, but we’re also concerned for your safety. They’ve killed at least one person who didn’t hand it over freely.”

Bess grows pale, and she reaches for Houdini’s hand across the table. “Give it to him. It’s cursed. I don’t want you—”