Chapter Five #2
“Mother refused to wear it, said it was morbid and foolish, and we had best keep our chins up and carry on. I was so young at the time, it fit on my pinkie. So I kept it. Doesn’t fit anymore. Will you take it and wear it?”
“Duke, I can’t do that.”
“Why not? You said you didn’t have anything of your mother’s to wear. And I have this whole box of treasures. I’m happy to share. What was your mother’s name?”
“Ellery,” I said. “Like Ellery Queen.”
“Who?”
“Never mind.”
Duke fished a little black notebook out of his pocket and scribbled something very, very small on the corner of a page. Then he tore it off and slipped it into the locket compartment of the ring.
“Now the ring has your mother’s name in it. Wear that and when you look at it, you’ll think of me giving that to you in honor of your mother.”
“I’ll think of her and you?”
“Two-for-one special,” he said with a smile. “Be a good girl and put it on. Please, Rainy.”
He meant it, I could tell. He wasn’t trying to be nice. He wanted me to have this ring, and if I said no, he’d be heartbroken. And the younger me would never forgive the older me for breaking the heart of the Duke of Chicago.
“Thank you,” I said. I reached for the ring, but he caught my hand and gently slipped it on my index finger. It wouldn’t quite fit.
“Oh, dear,” he said. “Let’s try a different finger.”
Then he put it on my ring finger.
“Made for you,” he said, still holding my hand. “You’ll simply have to wear it forever now.”
“My boss would kill me if she found out I took a gift from a character.”
“Break a rule or two. You might like it.”
The ring did fit me perfectly, like my finger had been waiting for it. I touched the five pearl petals of the forget-me-not. “I have such good taste in books.”
He caressed the back of my hand.
“Edith King,” I reminded him. “Self-awareness is no excuse for not getting the job done.”
“Yes, yes,” he said. “Let’s be off.”
Instead of using his newfound magic, Duke simply drove us back to the Bathtub and parked by the alley.
“Can we drive?” I asked.
“I’ll scout around,” he said. “Stay put, you two.”
He got out of the car and checked the street, the alley. I was seeing the Duke of Chicago in action, the investigator with eyes in the back of his head. He jogged back over to the car and opened my door. He took Koshka from my arms and, with his free hand, helped me out of the car.
“To the alley,” he said. We slipped past the garbage piles and into the dank darkness. “Now what?”
“I hate to say it but you’ll have to relinquish my cat.”
“Never,” Duke said. Even Koshka gave a little whine of protest.
“Boys,” I said sternly.
“Be brave, comrade. Do as your mistress says,” Duke said, giving Koshka another scratch. Reluctantly, he wriggled from Duke’s arms and hopped lightly onto the ground.
I looked up to where my black umbrella hung a few inches above my head.
“How does that work?” Duke asked.
“That’s our way in and out. Like a magic tunnel. I close my umbrella, say a little charm, and poof, we’re gone.”
“Fascinating,” Duke breathed. “What else can you do? Dance across the notes on sheet music? Pop in and out of pictures?”
“Stories only,” I said. “But we all have lots of special powers. If you’re looking for a good book but don’t know what to read, I can do a little charm and before you know it, the book you’re longing for will make its way into your hands.
And I can tell what someone’s favorite book is and why.
I can also mend broken spines. Book spines, not human spines, unfortunately. And I can—”
“Can you take me with you?” Duke asked softly.
“Duke,” I said and nothing else.
“You can, can’t you?”
I could, yes, but I didn’t tell him that. If he asked me again, I might not be able to say no.
“Duke, right now, I’m supposed to perform that spell now, the one that will make you forget me.”
“Don’t,” he said. “Please don’t.”
“It would be easier for you.”
“Eden’s doors are locked and guarded for a reason,” he said. “There’s no going back.” He stared deeply into my eyes. “Please, Rainy? Don’t make a duke beg.”
How could I say no to the man who had saved my life? Or, at least, had given it meaning when nothing else could?
“All right, I won’t do the spell, but you have to solve all your cases. And no more using your self-awareness to take over the stories. Okay? I don’t want to lose my job.”
It was going to be fun cleaning up the mess we’d already made—and by “fun” I meant “not fun.”
“I’ll be a good little detective, I promise,” he said.
Duke lowered his head and brushed his lips against mine, then kissed me again, deeper. And of course I ruined it by saying against his mouth, “I am being kissed by the Duke of Chicago…This is the greatest single moment of my life.”
“You realize you said that out loud?”
“Oops.” I stepped back. “I’ll miss you. Always.”
“See you soon,” he said.
“No, you won’t.”
“You know what they say—love laughs at locksmiths.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’ll find out.”
He stepped back. I scooped up Koshka and reached for my umbrella. Once I had it in hand, I flicked the button to close it, whispered the words I used to escape stories—“Our revels now are ended”—and then, with a swirl of magic, we were home.