door. In the corner farthest from the outside door was a doorway hung with a bead curtain. Thalia knew the passage beyond led to Madame Ostrova’s private office. There was no one to keep the door, no sign warning the caller to stay in the front room. No need for signs. Anyone who ventured this far knew that Madame Ostrova and her family were not to be trifled with.
Thalia drew in an appreciative breath. The place smelled wonderful, just as she remembered, a blend of fresh-cut lumber and pipe tobacco. That was the scent of possibility. That was the scent of wonderful new magic tricks under construction. “Oh, it’s good to be back.”
Thalia and Nutall moved toward the wing chairs. “I should have wired ahead,” Nutall said.
Thalia beamed. “I don’t mind waiting.”
A step or two toward the wing chairs and Thalia discovered one was taken. The well-dressed white gentleman who sat there sprang gallantly to his feet. “Miss Thalia Cutler, isn’t it? The Lady of the Lake? I’m Nathaniel Ryker. Please, take my chair.”
The well-dressed gentleman, Thalia realized slowly, had to be a Trader. His clothing was tailored perfectly for his frame, but also for the place and time of day. He was only an inch or two taller than Thalia herself, but his frame suggested strength and endurance. He was in his mid-twenties. He wore wire-rimmed spectacles and had a brilliant smile that flickered on and off. It hit Thalia full force but faded out as he waited for her reply.
Thalia felt herself blushing. “I beg your pardon, sir. I didn’t see you there.”
“I was at the Majestic Theater last night, Miss Cutler. Your performance was strangely compelling.”
“Indeed?” Thalia frowned. “What does that mean?”
The bead curtain rattled, and a vaguely familiar young man with ears like a sugar bowl emerged. “Mr. Ryker, Madame Ostrova will see you now.”
“Thank you, Anton.” Mr. Ryker gave Thalia another flicker of that brilliant smile, and threw Nutall a friendly nod of farewell as he followed the young man through the bead curtain.
The last time Thalia had seen Anton Ostrova, they’d played jacks together. He had been a stately ten years of age. She’d have been about eight. It was difficult to reconcile the memory of the boy with the man she’d just seen. Only the ears were the same.
“Mr. Ryker, eh?” Nutall looked thoughtful. “One of the Riverside Rykers, perhaps? Traders. Made their fortune in fishing, then shipping. Now they have a modest assortment of passenger liners. Well, they’d hardly have dealt in furs. They Trade into seals and otters.”
The bead curtain was still swinging after Ryker’s passage when a bull-necked white Solitaire man in expensively flashy clothes emerged wreathed in smiles. “I’ll fetch your things, sir,” said the younger man—a different Ostrova, although the ears were the same—escorting him.
Thalia felt Nutall tense beside her. “Faber,” he said, as if the name tasted bad.
“Granny Nutall.” The flashy man accepted his hat and walking stick from the younger Ostrova. “Haven’t you seen my posters? The name is Von Faber.”
“It never used to be.” Nutall spoke mildly. “Plain Johan Faber, that’s who you were when you left the Great Cutler’s act in Burlington. Skipped in the middle of the night.”
“You must be thinking of someone else,” said Von Faber. “I’ve never been to Burlington.”
“You ducked out on your share of the boardinghouse rent there. You also helped yourself to some props and my pocket watch.”
“You’re getting old. Memory’s going bad.” Von Faber buttoned his cashmere overcoat as he gave Thalia an assessing look, up and down fast, then up and down much more slowly. “Well, well. Who’s this? A fraulein your age here with Granny Nutall? That makes you Jack Cutler’s little girl. Last time I spoke with you, you sat on my knee. Shall we try that again?”
Nutall caught Thalia’s eye and tapped his nose. That little gesture sent a message Thalia had no trouble interpreting. Don’t let him provoke you. Thalia’s distaste kept her silent.
“Oh, ho. Stuck up, are we?” To Nutall, Von Faber said, “She’s grown up to be just like her mother, then. Little Margaret thought she was better than all the rest of us put together, didn’t she?”
“I never met her, but from what Jack told me, she was better,” Nutall said flatly. “What brings you here, Johan? You’re the headliner at the Imperial. Surely you’ve stolen all the tricks you need by this time? What’s left for you here?”
“I pack them in at the Imperial,” Von Faber agreed, “but