“And I would,” he’d said, laying his still-strong hand on the top of Tess’s head. “One day, you’ll understand what that means.”
Now Tess scooped Grandpa’s mail from the floor and stuffed the pile into her messenger bag. She paused to inspect the envelope still clenched in Nine’s teeth. The TRUST NO ONE message wasn’t scrawled in red marker or crayon the way those sorts of messages usually were, but carefully scripted in black ink. The whole thing was sealed with gold wax, too, which was a nice touch, and which likely meant that the contents were especially banana-pants—especially since the address had been crossed out and rewritten three times. Tess tried to take the envelope to put it in her bag, but of course Nine wasn’t having any of that. The cat lowered her head and growled.
Ah well. Who cared if Nine wanted to gnaw on some random letter from some random person? Grandpa Ben couldn’t worry about such things anymore. And maybe Tess shouldn’t worry about them, either. Maybe she wouldn’t think about all the infinite possibilities, at least not the bad ones. She had the whole day, the whole week, the whole summer. Theo loved the precision of his blocks, but Tess loved building with things that warmed up in her hands—metal, plaster, clay. She could finish the model of a sphinx moth she’d been working on, one that would eventually hover in the air like a hummingbird. Or maybe Theo would come to Central Park and they could play Frisbee; she wouldn’t mind if he spent the whole game calculating the angles of her throws. Maybe her dad could take them out on a river cruise, and they could watch for schools of fish darting through the clear blue water of the Hudson. A trip to the top of the Morningstarr Tower, Underway tracks whirling around the rocket-shaped spire like the largest, fanciest party favor. Grandpa’s warm and gravelly voice echoed in her head: “Of course the Morningstarrs would build a tower; they were luftmenschen, dreamers, always with their heads in the clouds. It’s a shock they ever made any money at all.”
As Tess made her way back to 354 W. 73rd Street, she resolved to stop catastrophizing for once, to be a luftmensch dreaming up all the infinite possibilities—good ones—of a summer afternoon.
But by then, the Old York Cipher—alive as the city, alive as Tess herself—had already made a choice.
For its children, it would tear the world apart.
CHAPTER TWO
Theo
Later, much later, Theo would think about how a single day—and a visit from two creepy strangers—split his whole life into before and after.
But, at that moment, Theo didn’t have a second to think. He sat against the wall, snapping blocks together so fast he pinched his fingers. A sheet of paper with a rough design and some quick calculations lay on the floor next to him. He probably wouldn’t be able to finish—the school people would be there soon—but maybe they’d be late. Really late. Drastically, dramatically late. And then his Tower of London model would be perfect. It would be complete. Even a person with no knowledge of history or architecture would recognize it.
As Theo worked, his mother glanced up from the stack of files she was reading. “That is amazing, Theo.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“You built the whole thing, grounds and all.”
“Yep,” said Theo.
“And you won the contest.”
“Um-hmmm.”
“And the school people will be here any second now.”
“Yeah.”
“So, what are you doing?”
Theo snapped faster. He’d built all the structures that comprised the Tower of London, including the White Tower, the Salt Tower, the Broad Arrow Tower, the Bloody Tower, and the Tower Green where the wives of Henry VIII had lost their heads. He’d built the Royal Chapel, Traitor’s Gate, the Tower Wharf, and the remains of the Lion Tower Drawbridge. He’d even built the moat around the entire compound, and the Thames River along one side.
But he hadn’t built the Tower Bridge. It was only the most iconic bridge in the United Kingdom. And it was right next to the Tower of London. Why hadn’t he built the bridge? He should have built the bridge.
So, he was building the bridge.
To his mother, he said, “Since we’re just sitting here, waiting, I figured I’d keep busy.”
“That model already takes up the entire dining room. And now you’re building into my living room.”
“So?” said Theo.
Mrs. Biedermann pinched the bridge of her nose. “It would be nice if you kids got into miniatures.”
“Technically, this is a miniature.”
“Technically, your family is going to end up living in the hallway because our home will be filled with the entire city of London.”
“Um-hmm,” said Theo. He could live in a hallway. Plenty of room in a hallway. Wasted space, really.
The hallway outside their apartment suddenly produced Theo’s dad, who opened the apartment door and backed inside. He had a tray of coffees in one hand and a large white paper bag in the other.
“I come bearing coffee for all!” Mr. Biedermann announced.
“You’re the only one who drinks coffee,” said Mrs. Biedermann.
“You drink coffee, Mom,” said Theo.
“I gave it up,” Mrs. Biedermann said.
“Three days ago,” said Theo.
Mr. Biedermann put the tray and the bag on the kitchen counter. “Correction: I come bearing coffee entirely for myself!”
Mrs. Biedermann tapped a pen on her case files. “I thought you were going up to Absolute Bagels?”
“Eh, the lines were full of snotty college kids.”
“Tell me that you didn’t go to Sam’s to buy a jelly doughnut.”
“I didn’t,” said Mr. Biedermann. “I bought a dozen jelly doughnuts. And some blintzes, too. Maybe a lot of blintzes.”
“Larry!”
“What?”
“You’re supposed to be watching your cholesterol!”
Theo said, “I guess he’ll be watching his cholesterol go up.”
“Ha-ha,” Mr. Biedermann said. He dug around in the bag, pulled out a cardboard container and a fork. He opened the container and forked up a bite of blintz. “Where’s Tess?”
“Walking the cat,” said Mrs. Biedermann.
“Good. She’ll work off some of that anxiety.”
Theo said, “No, she won’t. Tess is like a Lion battery. She can’t walk it off or run it out.”
Mr. Biedermann laughed. “Oh yeah? What does that make you, kid?”
“Her extremely calm and well-adjusted brother,” said Theo.
“Ah,” said Mr. Biedermann, chewing, swallowing. He nudged a stray Lego with his toe. “I thought the school people would be here by now.”
Mrs. Biedermann said, “Yeah, me, too.”
“Though I suppose it could be all the commotion out front.”
“What commotion?”