“IfMr. Fox is even here,” Mihai added. “We haven’t heard anything.”
And by that I wasn’t entirely sure if they meant “heard” as ingossip, or “heard” as inlet me listen to your blood. But it didn’t matter, because Fatherhadto be here in Bra?ov! I believed that more than ever now. He knew this shop existed: the business card was in the journal, and the twins were on his list. Maybe he was stuck somewhere. A broken-down car or train. Waiting for money to be wired. But—
But. If hehadcome to Bra?ov, and Rothwild was here... Would he go meet with the man? I thought about Jean-Bernard. And the widow’s gory murder scene in Bucharest. And Lovena’s sister jumping from the clock tower.
What would Rothwild do to my father?
My pulse went erratic, speeding up until I could feel it swishing inside my temples. How could I find Father before it was too late? Was Rothwild our only clue to his whereabouts? And what were we supposed to do, demand a meeting with a mad occultist and politely ask him where Father was? Pray that the man hadn’t already poisoned, bewitched, or “disposed of” him? That seemed like a terrible idea. Like walking into an angry lion’s den without a weapon.
Weapon. Huh.
Several puzzle pieces slotted together at once inside my head and formed into an idea.
Nineteen across, “negotiator’s grease.” L-E-V-E-R-A-G-E.
“My father doesn’t have a bargaining chip,” I said. “Butyoudo. May I see it?”
The twins gave each other a questioning look. Petar nodded. Mihai then took out a cluster of keys and opened a display case next to the counter. The glass was old and dirty, the contents of the display case hard to see until I caught a glimpse—small boxes. Cigarette cases, perhaps, or miniature music boxes. Yet none of them were very pretty or ornamental. They all were made from the same dark metal.
He reached inside the bottom of the case and pulled out one of them, about the size and shape of a ring box. And now that it was out of the case, I could see the rust covering it.
An iron box.
Huck drew in a sharp breath.
When I glanced at him, he swallowed hard and said to me in a low voice, “The box we dug up in the cave in Tokat... It looked just like that.”
Something between fear and excitement burgeoned inside my chest as I scrutinized symbols inscribed on the rusted metal box—symbols I couldn’t identify. Where were these from? They weren’t Egyptian hieroglyphs. Sumerian cuneiform? My mother would know. She loved ancient writing systems.
“Iron is a good insulator against magic,” Mihai said as he used a fingernail to open a tiny latch on the box. Then, without ceremony, he cracked open the lid. And though Ishouldhave been, I was not prepared for what would happen when he did.
The room swam in my vision.
All the noise felt as if it were sucked out of the air, and in its place was a familiar drumming cadence.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump...
I covered my ears on instinct, but of course it didn’t help. I was going to be sick. I teetered on my feet, dizzy and unsteady, feeling as if the floor were swirling below me.
Huck’s mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear him. This wassomuch worse than the museum in Sighi?oara—oh God! My head was going to crack open. Pain lashed around my black eye. I was going to faint. Or be sick. I was going... I was going to—
Mihai slammed the iron box shut. With a whooshing sound, the thumping stopped, and the shop rocked back into place. My balance returned. Or maybe it was Huck’s hands gripping my shoulders.
“Theo!”
I nodded... and nodded. Swallowed hard. Licked dry lips. And then I put a hand on Huck’s arm. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?” Huck said.
“I’m okay,” I repeated, and then whispered, “It was just like before.”
“She hears,” one of the twins was saying across the counter.
“She hears,” the other confirmed.
When I looked their way, Mihai slid the iron box toward me. “House of Basarab. House of Dracule?ti. Daughter of Transylvania and Wallachia. Scion of the Dragon.”
A dark thrill fluttered through me.
