“Tongue-Cut Sparrow,” he said, eyes on my water.
It did exist. I put a hand on his shoulder and spooked him; he nearly jumped backward. “Will you tell me how to get there?”
He looked at me for so long I worried I’d pushed my luck. But finally he said in the softest voice, “Are you sure you want to go?”
“Yes. Very much.”
He nodded toward the bank of elevators. “Take those to the basement, turn left, and knock three times on the door at the end of the hall.”
Victory. I felt a frisson of thrill.
He straightened and started to turn away, then glanced back. There was something like disappointment, or pity, in his eyes. “Stay safe,” he murmured and walked away.
I turned and, from across the lobby, caught Jamie’s waiting eyes.
***
When the elevator doors rolled open, we stared into a long, dark, empty hallway.
“I feel like Alice, falling down the rabbit hole,” Jamie said.
I pointed to the left. “This way.”
We walked silently. The farther from the elevators we got, the more the hallway changed. At first, there’d been dark wallpaper, and dim lights overhead. But eventually the wallpaper gave way to rough stone walls, the overhead bulbs to candles dripping wax from sconces on the wall. And suddenly, I heard it: an insistent thumping, running through the floor.
“Look.” Jamie pointed. A single black door, far in the distance.
When we got there, I knocked three times, heart pounding, and glanced at Jamie. He looked resolute. Be a professional, I told myself. Like him.
After a minute, still no answer. Jamie tried, striking the door with three heavy blows.
A rectangular sliver in the door slid open, and the insistent thumping from inside grew louder. A pair of dark eyes gleamed back at us.
Jamie straightened. “Tongue-Cut Sparrow?”
“What do you want?” The voice was gruff.
“To come in,” I said.
The eyes slid to me, then back to Jamie. Jamie started to say something, but the voice cut him off. “You’re not members.”
There were memberships? What was this place?
“Potential members,” Jamie insisted. “How much to come in for one night?”
The eyes narrowed. After a moment: “A thousand each for a flyby. And you follow all the rules.”
Jamie laughed incredulously, turning to me, but I kept my eyes on the door. “Deal.”
It swung open, and music rushed out. A remarkably broad man in a pin-striped suit scowled at us. Behind him was a dark wall with a brilliant painting of a sparrow in flight, crying out at the sight of a jewel-handled knife.
I unzipped my purse and handed the man my credit card. I’d hear from Cal about this, no question. Who knew how this would be listed on the monthly bill? But right now, I didn’t care.
“You give me everything,” the man said, pointing at my purse. “Cell phones, wallets. You can’t take anything but cash. No recordings. No outside contact.”
Jamie and I looked at each other.
“Once you get inside, bathrooms are around the corner. You can change there.”
Change? I didn’t dare reveal my ignorance, so I simply nodded and gave the man everything I was holding. Jamie emptied his pockets. To my surprise, the man patted us down, hands moving briskly over my body.
“Fine,” he said when he was through. He held out his palm. In the center rested two tiny, midnight-blue pills. “Last thing.”