negotiate a peace treaty between the clans, and—”
“You think I don’t know that?” he said, getting frustrated. “The clans will go to war if that’s what they want to do, and don’t let anyone fool you into thinking it’s got anything to do with you or me. Anyway, there’s bigger things at stake than whether the damned clans want to fight with one another.”
“Really? Like what?”
“Like the girl.”
“You mean Noor.”
“Of course I mean her. And don’t say her name out loud again.”
“Why is she so important?”
“I’m not going to tell you over an unsecured telephone line. And, anyhow, you don’t need to know. Truth is, I should never have gotten you involved in the first place. I went against my better judgment. I broke a promise, too, and I’m sick about it. You nearly got killed because of it.”
“What promise? To who?”
There was a pause. I might’ve thought the line had gone dead, but I could hear dishes rattling in the background. Finally, he said, “To your grandfather.”
Which reminded me of the reason I’d called H in the first place.
“Why?” I said. “Why did he never tell me anything? Why would he ask you to keep secrets from me?”
“Because he wanted to protect you, son.”
“That was never going to be possible. All it did was leave me totally unprepared.”
“He always meant to tell you who you were. But he died too soon to do it himself.”
“Then what was he protecting me from?”
“From our work. He didn’t want you involved.”
“Then why did he send me postcards from your missions? Or make maps for me? Or make my nickname the passcode to the bunker under his house?”
I heard H take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He was leaving you tools in case of emergency. But that’s it. Now, I’m afraid you caught me on my way out.”
“To do what?”
“One last job,” he replied. “Then I’m retired for good.”
“You’re going to try to get her back, aren’t you?”
“That’s no business of yours.”
“Wait for me. I’ll come to you. I want to help. Please.”
“No, thank you. Like I said, you’ve done quite enough—and you don’t take orders.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Okay, then take this order. Go back to your life. Go back to your ymbrynes and your safe little world, because you aren’t ready for this one yet. Maybe we’ll meet again, someday, when you are.”
And then he hung up.
I stood in my living room, phone in hand, still listening to the silence on the dead line. My mind was racing. I had to get to H, and quickly. I had to help him. I was green and inexperienced, yes, but he was old and out of practice. He needed me, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He was right about one thing, though—I was terrible at taking orders. Oh, well; it was a second chance at helping Noor. Maybe just a sliver of a chance, but at this point I would take what I could get.
First, I would have to find H. Luckily, I knew right where to start looking: on the book of matches where I’d first gotten his phone number. It was from a Chinese restaurant somewhere in Manhattan. When I’d called him this time, I’d heard what sounded like a restaurant in the background—a busy kitchen, maybe, or the dish prep area—and I was pretty sure someone who worked there had answered the phone. I figured H lived in the back, or above it. The name and address were on the matchbook, so it would be easy enough to find. I just had to get to New York.
This time I didn’t pack a bag or bring anything special. I changed the clothes I’d been in for days, which were bloodstained and beginning to smell a bit ripe. And then I ran out the back door and into the potting shed. Once I’d come out the other side and I was in the Panloopticon’s hallway, I knew just where to go. Miss Peregrine had brought us back from New York through a door halfway down the hall on the Panloopticon’s upper level. All I had to do was retrace our steps from the day before. It would’ve attracted too much attention to run, so I walked quickly with my head down, hoping none of the travelers or transport agents or desk clerks would notice me. I had made it all the way to the stairwell and up the stairs into the upper hall without being stopped when I ran