the top of the tree, a professional stage magician with a two-week contract at one of the most popular theaters in New York City, and therefore in the entire country. Now, in the wan hours after midnight, she was out of work, with no immediate prospect of another job. No work meant no money. No money meant she and Nutall should watch every penny until they had their next engagement booked.
Thalia caught herself. She might be down, but she wasn’t down and out. Far from it. She was simply between engagements. She was simply on the road again, even if their road at the moment was a few blocks down Forty-Ninth Street, just as far as Ninth Avenue.
Nutall tipped the drayman generously, so they had his help unloading the trunks that held the props. Mrs. Morris, their landlady, came down, cheeks pink and eyes shining with curiosity, to see what all the fuss was about. Nutall used his charm to good effect. Mrs. Morris, a buxom white Solitaire well into her sixties, hovered about shushing the drayman as the trunks were hauled upstairs.
While Thalia and Nutall waited for the drayman to finish, Thalia whispered, “A noncompete clause? Is that crazy or can they really do that?”
“I’m sure they think they can really do that.” Nutall looked tired. “We will find out for certain tomorrow. Stage magicians may not steal tricks from each other outright, but one-upping each other is a fine old tradition.”
“Even if we drop the Bullet Catch, the syndicate bars us, Manfred said. How are we going to find work outside the syndicate?”
“Just because Manfred said it doesn’t mean it’s true,” Nutall reminded her. “First we shall confirm the facts of the matter and then we will investigate all of our options—tomorrow.”
The drayman finished up. He touched the brim of his hat and sketched a bow to Thalia and Mrs. Morris as he left.
“It is late,” Mrs. Morris said pointedly.
“To be continued, then.” Nutall gave Mrs. Morris more than just a sketch of a bow. It was the full exhibit. “I will see you ladies in the morning.”
* * *
Thalia’s boardinghouse room was small, but she didn’t have to share it with anyone. The cages for twelve doves and a corn snake made it smaller. Thalia settled them all for the night. Once Thalia had cleaned up at the washstand, she put out the light and lay in bed wondering what they were going to do next.
Could they even find a gig at a theater that wasn’t part of the Cadwallader Syndicate? Should they hire lawyers to fight the noncompete clause instead? Lawyers were expensive.
No contract. No gig. It felt strange not to know when her next performance would be. Unpleasant. She would talk it over with Nutall in the morning.
Nutall would have ideas about all this. Nutall knew all sorts of people and all sorts of things. He knew things about her mother and father that even Thalia didn’t know. How many more secrets had her father told him?
Thalia thought about her father. If he had been a Trader instead of a Solitaire, Thalia would have been a Trader too. The very idea now seemed ridiculous.
Even if Jack Cutler had been a Trader instead of a Solitaire, her mother’s family would have objected to him. Marrying a stage magician probably wasn’t something a well-brought-up Trader girl was supposed to do. Even a well-brought-up Solitaire girl would think twice about it.
But Thalia could not imagine her father in any other life. Nor could she imagine herself as anything but a stage magician. But she didn’t have a gig. So was she still a stage magician?
Vaudeville performers who were between gigs said they were resting. Thalia decided she was resting. All this could wait until morning. In the morning, she would talk to Nutall. Nutall was sure to have a good idea.
* * *
Thalia’s next clear thought, though it came to her slowly, was that her crowded little room was full of cold gray daylight. She took a look out the window and saw a slice of cloudy sky that promised rain later. The sounds she heard were the other boarders stirring as Mrs. Morris’s lodgers woke up for the day. The smells she smelled were not yet the pleasant odors of breakfast, but a reminder that the doves and the snake needed to be taken care of evening and morning both. Gig or no gig, Thalia had responsibilities.
The chill unpleasant fact that Thalia didn’t have a job drove