“So,” I said, changing the subject. “Logistical question.”
Arthur straightened, instantly attentive. “Yes.”
“Where do your clothes go when you”—I swept my hand through the air in front of his body—“do that?”
He blinked. “They are stored.”
“Where?”
“A pocket realm.”
I stared at him, unblinking, waiting for more.
He added, helpfully, “I also keep essential items there when traveling.”
I nodded once, because what else could I do? “That sounds totally normal.”
He flashed me a relieved smile, and the worry in his eyes eased.
The walk to my apartment was short and surreal. I kept glancing at him, afraid he might disappear if I didn’t maintain visual confirmation. He did not.
My apartment seemed smaller with him in it, because Arthur seemed to take up space simply by existing. He looked around with polite curiosity, hands loosely clasped in front of him, like he was trying very hard not to disturb anything, including me.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No,” I said quickly. “Make yourself at home. As much as one can in a stranger’s apartment with questionable throw pillows.”
He nodded solemnly, as if accepting a sacred duty.
There was a knock at the door, and my stomach dropped.
“Oh crap,” I said. “Brace yourself.”
Arthur frowned slightly, but before he could ask what I meant, I opened the door.
Eloise stood there with her house-coat half on, eyes wide and furious and relieved all at once.
“I have been worried sick,” she said, stepping forward. “You always come home straight after your shift. Always. And today? Nothing. No call. No note. Not even a carrier pigeon.”
“I have a man in my apartment,” I blurted.
Eloise froze, her gaze flicking past me to Arthur. Then back to me. Then to Arthur again.
“Do you want this boy in your apartment?” she asked carefully. Carefully, in the way one asks whether there was a snake in the house.
“Yes,” I said. “He was invited.”
Eloise relaxed by exactly half a degree, then strode in as if she owned my apartment.
“I’m Eloise,” she said, extending a hand. “And you are?”
“Arthur,” he replied as he took her hand.
She studied him, her gaze tracking down his body before scrutinizing his face again. “Why are you here?”
“I require Artemis’s expertise,” he said. “For a specialized research matter.”
“Uh-huh.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “And this research requires her to disappear for hours without warning?”
