Iris continued to meander around the café, down its crooked corridor, where the kitchen was brilliant at the end of the hallway, beckoning her with its light and the aroma of fresh blueberry scones. She passed the lavatory, the very one she had read Roman’s and Dacre’s letters in, and the key in her pocket warmed.
She paused, gazing at the door.
This was it, then. A threshold that would shift.
She drained the rest of the tea and rejoined Attie’s family at the booth, a lantern set on the table to provide better light.
But the minutes continued to tick away. Soon, the clock on the wall read eleven forty-five, and Attie had yet to return. The air in the café was beginning to feel anxious and grim, and Iris couldn’t stay still.
She walked to the front door and gazed out into the street of Oath.
It was empty now.
It looked eerie, abandoned, even under the full brunt of the midday sun.
At five till noon, Iris’s fear had fully hooked her heart. She crossed her arms to hide how her hands were shaking.
“I’ll go after her,” said Mr. Attwood.
Iris turned to see he was standing behind her, also gazing beyond the door, waiting for Attie’s return. If he left now, he wouldn’t make it back to the café before noon.
“Let me go instead, Mr. Attwood,” Iris offered. “We’re planning to—”
“Wait, there they are!”
Iris whirled back around. She opened the door, the bell above ringing as the heat of the day washed over her. Tobias and his parents were rushing behind Attie as she led the way into the café.
There was no sign of Forest and Sarah.
Iris swallowed that realization like it was a jagged piece of ice. It scraped down her throat. She felt irrevocably cold.
“We’re back,” Attie announced, for her father’s sake. Then she turned to Iris and whispered, “I’m sorry. I stayed as long as we could, but Forest and Prindle never showed.”
“I’m sure they sheltered elsewhere,” Iris said. She glanced at the clock again. Two more minutes.
Attie drew Tobias and her father off to a private corner. Iris knew she was breaking the news to them, and she led the Bexleys back to the booth. She formally met Tobias’s parents, shaking their hands and offering a smile.
“We’ve heard so much about you, Iris,” Mrs. Bexley said warmly. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Tobias told me to bring my deck of cards so we could hopefully pass the time faster. Would you like to join us?”
“I would love to, Mrs. Bexley,” Iris said, fighting tears. “There’s something I must tend to first, but maybe after that?”
“Of course. We’ll save you a spot.”
Iris nodded, her feet leaden as she moved aside for the waiter. He brought out the last of the complimentary tea, the last of the cake. It felt like the dying gasp of normalcy, a final vestige of life as they had once known it to be.
It occurred to Iris, then, that she would need something to leave a trail below. She asked for a few biscuits, and the same waiter who had given her the cup of tea handed her three blueberry scones, still warm from the oven.
“I’m not sure what you have planned,” he said, eyeing the hilt of her sword again, “but I do hope you’re successful.”
Iris didn’t have a chance to reply to him; Attie called for her over the murmur of conversations, violin and bow in her left hand. Iris walked across the café to meet her friend.
Tobias appeared stricken. His lips were pursed, his eyes downcast. But he stood close behind Attie, his fingers woven with hers. Mr. Attwood looked stunned as well, but there was also a sheen of pride in his eyes as he gazed at his daughter, holding her instrument in a public space.
“I told them everything,” Attie said. “Did you locate the door?”
“Yes. It’s over here.”
Iris wove around the tables. Attie’s violin drew more stares and whispers than Iris’s sword, and she was thankful when they reached the cover of the corridor.
The key grew warm in her pocket again. Iris brought it out into the dim light, let it lie flat on her palm. For a moment, no one spoke or moved. They merely stared at the under realm key until a distant boom rattled the walls.
The first bomb, and it didn’t feel far off.
“One of Dacre’s tactics is to bomb and devastate, and then bring his forces in to scavenge and plunder,” Iris said, glancing up at Mr. Attwood. “I’m going to unlock this door so we can pass through it, and then I’m going to lock it behind me. So this threshold won’t remain active, but it’s still something to keep in mind.”