Chapter 42: Chapter 39: Roundabout

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> “Fortunately, I sent the other end of the portal south months ago.”

“Hi, it’s Larissa Jacobs, I can’t get to the phone right now, probably because I’m on shift, but if you leave a brief message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Bye!”

I hung up the phone before the beep sounded and it took every remaining ounce of strength not to cry. Not that anyone would have noticed, as the car was mostly empty. I had already ridden the train all the way to the end at Pelham Bay Park before we turned around at the terminus and slowly rumbled along the elevated track back toward Manhattan.

Why had I decided, after all these years, that this was the moment that I wanted to hear my mom’s voice again?

It wasn’t as though if I left her a message, she would call back in a few hours and tell me everything was going to be OK. Even when she was alive, that would sometimes take days. I didn’t understand it then, why she worked double shifts so often that there were weeks where we saw each other for a few minutes at most. To be honest, I still really didn’t understand it. But that message was one of the only things I had left of her, besides some photos and the locket.

The train screeched to a halt at Hunts Point and I pushed aside old voices and memories as Ty Anzio entered the car. We ignored each other for a solid 40 minutes while the train resumed its southward trek. She was dressed in grey sweats, the hood of her sweatshirt pulled tightly around her hair. It would be another half hour until our official meeting time and when I saw her doze off in her seat, I took the cue and I closed my eyes, trying to rest my overtaxed mind. But such efforts were useless and instead my thoughts drifted back to the black business card with the gold writing that had led me here.

The Chrysler Building elevator hadn’t even reached the 20th floor before I had pulled the card out of my bag and began typing the number into my phone.

“It’s Jade, from the Raid Board and the Council meeting. I need help,” I had texted, as I exited into the empty lobby. It had been nearly 8, when the earliest of the worker bees would be trudging in with sleepy eyes holding cups of coffee purchased from the cart outside. But then I had realized that it was actually Saturday. One less email to send then, I had thought, as I had been calling out “sick” from work since the day after the Council meeting, and would continue to do so until this whole business was behind us.

“It’s early,” the reply had said. And then, “what do you need?”

“Something to cure a wound with an otherworldly glow.”

The lie was a good one and I thought of Steve and that scar on his stomach all those months ago. How had he actually gotten that scar, I wondered.

A silence of minutes had ensued until finally, the response came.

“Be in the third car on the 6 train, at Brooklyn Bridge, at 10:30. Don’t acknowledge me before then.”

That’s where I had sat and that’s where I awoke when the conductor finally called out “Brooklyn Bridge/City Hall, next and final stop on this train.” I looked over at the middle door to see Ty standing against the metal poles and I slowly got up and joined her as the train ended its long journey. Stepping out onto the platform, I felt Ty’s hand immediately pull me back into the car and before I could protest, the doors closed.

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The train rolled out of the station and I started to ask Ty what we were doing here, but she held her hand up. We continued on into a dark tunnel, only to emerge a few minutes later in the most magnificent subway station I had ever seen. Tiles decorated the walls up to the arched ceilings, where honest-to-goodness skylights and chandeliers were interspersed throughout.

I took in the sights, the train banking slowly around the curved tracks when suddenly, the door in front of us opened.

“This is where we get off,” said Ty, who hopped out onto the platform without a fuss.

I looked at her as the train car finished its turn through the curve and she shook her head at my hesitation, as if I was her mom and had just embarrassed her in front of her friends.

“Come on,” I muttered to myself, before counting to three, closing my eyes, and jumping out of the train.

That proved to be a mistake.

I felt my feet hit the platform at a horrid angle and down I went, my hands instinctively reaching out to brace my fall before I remembered the sorry state of my wrist and pulled them back. My shoulder hit first and then my head, and I yelled out in pain.

“Shh,” said Ty, who ran over to me and helped me to my feet. “Don’t want the conductor to hear us and stop the train.”

“Sorry,” I said, getting my bearings. My head throbbed and my shoulder twitched, but I ignored both and followed Ty to a nearby stairwell. We walked halfway up until the platform was completely out of sight at which point I collapsed against the wall.

“Couldn’t we have met at a coffee shop?” I asked.

“Nope,” said Ty, who sat down across from me with her legs crisscrossed like she was attending a middle school assembly. “Not with a Guild tracker on your tail.”

“What the hell is that?”

I started frantically turning out my pockets looking for a silver ring or some other object that wasn’t supposed to be there, but Ty waved off my search.

“What it sounds like. A person hired by the Guild to follow you around. And from the one they’ve got following you, looks like you are at the center of the Guild’s radar.”

“Great,” I muttered.

“Luckily for you, he doesn’t know about that malfunctioning door, so he’s still riding a car behind, waiting for you to get off.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome. Everyone always forgets about this place. There are private tours a couple of times a month, but you’d be surprised how many people riding the 6 through the turnaround don’t even notice that there’s this entire station, hiding in plain sight.”

“I could believe that,” I said. “Same way people don’t realize magic is real.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Ty said, clapping her thighs before staring at me more intently. “You look like shit, by the way. Did you actually get stabbed with a Relic or were you just out all night partying?”

“Neither,” I said, making a mental note of her Relic reference. “Was out all night, but not to drink. And the cure I need isn’t for me, it’s for a friend.”

“I see,” said Ty. “That blonde you were with the other night? Molly?”

“Yep,” I said, continuing the lie. “So, can you help me?”

“Ummm, obviously. That’s why we’re here. I happen to know a guy who trades in the sort of thing you’re looking for.”

“He has ground-up dodo bird beaks?” I said, as Ty raised her eyebrows. “I mean,” I stammered, cursing myself for giving away the farm, “someone once told me that it was the ultimate curative.”

“That’s the rumor, at least,” said Ty. “But I hope you didn’t think you were just going to waltz into the Natural History Museum and take theirs.”

“I wasn’t,” I lied, “but why not?”

“Because it’s a fake. The real one was stolen years ago. Now the only one left that anyone knows about is at Oxford, but good luck getting through their security.”

“Oh, so then what does your guy have?”

“You’ll see. Just make sure you arrive right when he opens tomorrow night. He’s very particular about punctuality.”

“Tomorrow night? I don’t think my friend has that kind of time.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jade, but the Market isn’t even open today, so looks like you don’t have a choice. Besides, it gives you some time to enjoy this beautiful forgotten piece of New York’s history.”

Ty pushed herself up to her feet and stretched her hands over her head, and turned to walk up the steps and out of the station.

“Wait!” I shouted to her. “What about the Guild tracker? He’s eventually going to find me again, right?”

Ty smiled, before pulling something shiny out from the front pocket of her sweatshirt.

“Not if you’re wearing this.”

Next: A new alchemy branch is revealed.