The Glass Magician

She found Emery and Mg. Aviosky talking to two disgruntled police officers. Or rather, Mg. Aviosky stood by silently while Emery yelled at them.

“Then take me!” Emery shouted, a vein on the side of his forehead looking especially rigid. The skin around his eyes was flushed, and he waved his hands in the air like cleavers. “Don’t you understand? She might be in there! They all might be in there. We have to go!”

“Sir,” said the taller officer, “as I’ve already explained, we can only—”

“Emery!” Ceony shouted as she pushed past the last of the crowd. Emery whirled around at his name. “It’s okay, we got out before—”

The rest of her words were cut off when Emery threw his arms around her and embraced her, sending her top hat—and her stomach—tumbling to the ground.

“Thank God,” he said into her hair, squeezing her to his chest. Her blood raced through her veins faster than when the giant piece of rubble had been hurtling toward her. “Oh, Ceony, I thought . . .”

He pulled back and looked her up and down. His green eyes shined with worry and relief. This time, she had no trouble reading his mood. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, her pulse beating in her throat. “I-I’m fine, I promise. And Delilah, and the others. We left the building before . . . I don’t know what happened. I don’t know where Clemson and Dover and George are, but they got out, too. They were with us.”

Emery heaved a long breath and closed his eyes, then tugged Ceony close again. She returned the embrace, letting her arms snake under his coat, hoping that if Emery could feel the hammering in her chest, he would attribute it to the disaster at the paper mill and not their closeness. “If it makes you feel any better,” she murmured, “it really was boring, up until the end.”

Emery laughed, though it was more of a nervous sound than a mirthful one. He stepped back, but kept his hands on her shoulders. “I am so sorry.”

“It wasn’t . . . ,” she began. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Mg. Aviosky, who was standing with Delilah. The Gaffer wore a sour expression—a frown that could mean nothing but disapproval.

Ceony flushed and pulled away from Emery. “It wasn’t your fault, but there were people inside. And I don’t know what happened . . .”

Her voice shook a little on those last words. She coughed to steady it.

One of the officers Emery had been arguing with stepped forward. “You were a witness?” he asked.

Ceony nodded.

“Please come with us,” he said. “I’d like to ask you some questions about what you saw and where. Her, too.” He gestured toward Delilah.

“Of course,” Ceony said, and she felt Emery’s hand clasp hers behind the shield of his coat. “Whatever is necessary.”

“I’ll accompany them,” Emery said.

“As will I,” said Mg. Aviosky. “I’m these girls’ director; any involvement they have in this incident is my responsibility.”

The officers nodded. “My automobile is out this way. Please.”

Ceony, Emery, Delilah, and Mg. Aviosky followed the officers to their cars, and rode with them to the police station, where Ceony filed her report in the utmost detail she could muster, including the two words she had overheard whispered to Miss Johnston. Dear God, let her be safe.

Ceony and Emery stayed at the station until late into the night, but it seemed no one had any solid evidence as to what could have caused the explosion, short of sabotage.

But as Ceony rode in a hired buggy back through the dark roads to London, she couldn’t help but wonder, Who would want to sabotage a paper mill?





CHAPTER 4



CEONY LAY AWAKE IN her bed, her arm splayed across her forehead to keep the morning sunlight from her eyes. Fennel whined at her from the floor, his paper tail beating a rapid rhythm against the carpet. She reached a hand toward him and stroked the top of his paper head.

In her mind she stood in front of the paper mill’s three buildings, the shuttle driving away down the pebbled road behind her. Miss Johnston mumbled ahead of her. Ceony strained her memory for any forgotten details that might explain what had happened. She wished she’d paid more attention. But the police had said the explosion happened in the drying room, of all places, and Ceony’s tour never reached that part of the mill. That’s why the police suspected sabotage—there was nothing in the drying room that could have malfunctioned on such a large scale.