Something to keep in mind if we fail, Iris finished inwardly. But she didn’t want to speak that possibility aloud.
“How long will you be gone?” Tobias asked.
Iris and Attie exchanged an uncertain look. There was no way for them to know.
“We’re not certain,” Attie replied. “But we hope it won’t be too long.”
Another bomb rattled the walls. A few waiters rushed by, disappearing into the kitchen. The electricity flickered.
“Ready, Iris?” Attie said, and while she appeared confident, Iris saw how she still held Tobias’s hand, as if leaving him was the last thing she wanted to do.
Iris nodded and faced the door. She held the key up to the knob, amazed when she saw a keyhole form. She slipped the key into it and turned, the door popping open.
She smelled it first, the scent of the under realm. Damp rock and cold musty air. Carefully, she drew the door open and stared down the passageway. It was a steep stairwell hewn in the pale rock, and it descended into thick, cobwebbed darkness.
“Tobias?” Mr. Attwood said. “Will you bring us the lantern that’s at the booth?”
Tobias quickly obliged, his fingers slipping from Attie’s. Within seconds, he returned with the lantern in hand, passing it to Iris.
“Thank you,” she said, unable to hide the warble in her voice. But she was grateful for the light, and she took her first step down, and then another.
Iris paused when she realized Attie wasn’t behind her.
“Do you remember everything I taught you, Thea?” Mr. Attwood was saying.
“How could I forget, Papa?” Attie countered mirthfully, but it sounded like she was about to cry. “I used to think I would play in the symphony one day.”
“Yes, and all those hours you devoted to that dream, playing in secret.” Her father paused, caressing her cheek with his knuckles. “Now I see all those moments prepared you for this one. I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Be careful.”
He kissed her brow. Attie rapidly blinked back tears.
Tobias stepped forward next to embrace her. She rose on her toes to whisper something in his ear, and he listened, his fingers splayed over her back. Whatever the words were, he relinquished her, but his eyes burned through the shadows, following her as Attie took her first step down.
“Return to me, Thea Attwood,” he said.
Attie spun to look back at him. “In case you didn’t know, I have nine lives too, Tobias Bexley.”
That drew a small smile from him, but it faded as Attie took another step down into the musty under realm. Tobias flinched, like he wanted to follow her into the darkness.
Iris could hardly breathe as she reached for the door handle. “I’ll bring her back safely,” she promised.
“We’ll be waiting here for you both,” Mr. Attwood said, setting his hand on Tobias’s shoulder.
It took everything within Iris to close the door, to watch the light fade with the motion. But she did, sealing off one realm for another. She slipped the key into the hole and locked the door behind herself and Attie.
{49}
The Weight of Fifty Wings
Tobias stared at the lavatory door, his heart pounding as Iris turned the lock from within. He took two deep breaths before reaching for the knob, unable to help himself.
He opened the door to see it was just the lavatory. Black-and-white-tiled floor, a commode, a sink with a speckled mirror, floral wallpaper.
Attie and Iris were gone. Vanished, as if they had never been.
“Let’s return to the table,” said Mr. Attwood.
Tobias nodded, despite the fact that he could have stood there for hours and stared at this door, waiting for them to return. He would wait for however long it took, even if the walls collapsed.
But he couldn’t forget the words Attie had whispered in his ear, just before she had left.
Please watch over my family while I’m gone.
He walked with her father to the booth, where his parents were speaking with Mrs. Attwood. Attie’s siblings were huddled close together, the sweetness of the lemonade and cake long since forgotten as another bomb dropped, splitting the air like thunder.
Tobias sat on the bench beside Garrett, one of the twins. The boy’s eyes were wide with fear, his shoulders hunched. Another bomb dropped, closer this time. The dishes rattled; the paintings shivered on the walls. In the kitchen, it sounded like a stack of plates had overturned and shattered.
Tobias reached into the small leather pack he had brought with him from home. His mum had thought he was going to take his trophies, his ribbons. All the objects that embodied his success on the racetrack. But he had reached for his old car collection. His wooden toys from childhood.