Elsa grinned. She would like to, yes. But could she? Should she? Those were questions he had not asked, and so she would not answer them.
Instead, she said, “A little adventure never hurts.” So long as it was very little, in her case. She figured there couldn’t be more steps here than what she’d already climbed in the stair tower. And from what she could see, these were quite shallow.
“I need a smoke,” Tom muttered. To Elsa, he explained, “I don’t do tunnels, either. Not anymore.” He left, and Barney went with him.
Luke shut the small door. “I’ll explore that another time, Elsa. We have no idea how structurally sound it is after all these years, so please don’t go adventuring alone.”
Elsa agreed, a thrill racing through her at even the thought of walking that path. Setting the folders on the desk, she helpedLuke move it back against the wall, then replaced the chair before scooping up the paperwork again.
“I’ll want to come back for more of this later.” She held up the folders. The stirred-up dust entered her throat and lungs, triggering a cough.
“Yes. Later. For now, it’s time to go.” Luke pointed the flashlight at the way out, so she couldn’t see his expression. But somehow she felt that the firmness in his voice had more to do with her well-being than with his schedule.
Back in the library, she asked, “Will Tom be all right?” She supposed he was smoking outside on the porch with Barney.
Luke rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “That is certainly my intention.” He left, perhaps to follow his friend.
A few drops spattered the pane. Elsa hastened to the dining hall, dropped the folders on the table, and moved from one window to another, closing the sashes. As soon as the last one was secure, she turned around in time to see Barney snatch a bird specimen from the table and run off with it. The flash of blue turned her stomach. He had the Spix’s macaw.
“Stop, thief!” she cried and gave chase.
CHAPTER
8
Elsa stole down the corridor and followed the mangy mutt right out the back door, which apparently hadn’t been latched shut. Taking only an instant to secure the door behind her, she dashed after Barney into the courtyard, wondering what kind of game this was.
Could it be fetch? When Luke had thrown a ball, Barney had brought it right back to him. But the dog gave no indication that’s what he had in mind today.
The sky lowered and rumbled. Clouds churned as they sailed east, and Elsa wondered if the storm would pass them by. Barney stopped and turned to face her, ears pricked straight up, tail wagging. Bright blue tail feathers speared from one side of his mouth.
Elsa halted, afraid that if she took a step, he’d run again. Why, oh why, hadn’t she secured the bird so this wouldn’t happen? It was likely the crown jewel of the entire Hudson Collection, and here it was at the mercy of a dog. “Good boy, Barney. Come here.” If she lost the bird, or if it were destroyed under her watch, she’d never forgive herself, and neither would the museum.
His tail wagged harder, but he didn’t come.
“Fine, then. Stay there. Stay.” She held out her hands, palms out.
The dog dropped to his elbows in front, his rump still high in the air. He was taunting her.
The nerve.
With her next step, he charged off as though his tail were on fire. Gritting her teeth, she followed suit, running as long as she could before slowing to a fast walk. Barney circled around again and again, remaining out of reach, but leading her on, past an orchard that smelled faintly of ripe apples.
Wind whipped her skirt sideways, and rain fell at last in great, fat drops. She rested her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. If she had any left to work with, she’d scold the dog. But the ache in her leg had spread fire straight up to her hip, and it jumped into her lungs.
Elsa stumbled toward a tree and leaned against it with one hand, the rough bark cutting into her palm. Putting her weight on her good leg and the tree, she pressed at the place in her chest that burned. She pulled air in, pushed it out. But the space inside her only screwed tighter, tighter.
She had to recover the macaw.
But the edges of her vision darkened, either from the storm or the lack of oxygen to her brain. Barney had disappeared, and so had all the trees except the one holding her up. All she saw was the water streaming from the ends of her hair.
Minutes passed, or maybe just seconds. Time warped to the rhythm of her respirations.
Breathe in. Breatheout. Ignore the pain and breathe.
“Elsa!” As though out of nowhere, Luke was there. The scars on his cheek and jaw shone darker against his pale face. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head.
