but her expression soon cleared. “I won’t do it again, I promise.” She held out her hand. “I apologize.”
“Apology accepted.” Won over by Nell’s sincerity, Thalia shook hands. Then she returned to the nursery. She used her lockpicks to secure the door from the inside and went doggedly back to work trying to find a way to control the swan within her.
* * *
Two days passed. Thalia spent the time trying unsuccessfully to Trade at will. Without the fear of immediate death, the swan half of Thalia remained stubbornly quiet within her.
No reply of any kind had come from Nutall. Thalia wasn’t entirely sure he’d received her letter. Nell had posted it, but there was no telling what had happened to it since.
At a sharp knock, Thalia opened the nursery door to accept the luncheon tray she’d rung for. To her surprise, it was Rogers there in the hallway, not a maid with her meal. Thalia gave him an inquiring look. “Rogers.”
“Miss Cutler.” Ever since the incident with the shotgun, Rogers’ attitude toward Thalia had been respectful as well as apologetic. “Mr. Tycho Aristides is here. He wishes to speak with you.”
“Of course.”
“I have put him in the front parlor.”
Thalia followed Rogers down the hall, abruptly aware that her muscles were stiff and sore. Was this from her attempts to Trade? How long had it been since she’d done more than walk a few flights of stairs? A longing to be outdoors filled her. Thalia was startled by the strength of that feeling. She had never been one for hearty exercise. Her life onstage and backstage had largely been spent indoors. Thalia decided to blame her sudden desire for the great outdoors on her swan nature. It was only natural a swan would resent being cooped up indoors.
Tycho Aristides, the Skinner of New York, was inspecting the windows of the front parlor when Rogers entered the room. He turned when Rogers intoned, “Mr. Aristides says he is here to see you on business, Miss Cutler.”
Thalia stepped into the room and Rogers closed the door, leaving her alone with Aristides.
“Miss Cutler.” Aristides shook her hand.
Thalia gestured Aristides to take a seat, then sat down in the same leather armchair she’d used when she met Tewksbury and Hopkins.
Aristides took the chair nearest Thalia’s. “Hello again.” As he’d been on the day he’d saved Thalia from the manticore, he was heavily armed and casually dressed. He fairly exuded competence.
Thalia regarded him with interest. “You wanted to see me on business?”
Aristides smiled at her charmingly. “How would you like to help me make New York City safer for everyone, including you?”
Thalia knew a rhetorical question when she heard one, so she didn’t answer. Instead she gave Aristides a patient smile back and waited.
“You gave me the idea yourself. When the police were going to take you in for questioning, you and the Rykers sent for me.” Aristides continued, “It took a while for the message to catch up to me. I was already here, of course. I’d been hunting that manticore for two days. By the time the summons from the Rykers reached me, I’d already killed the manticore and collected the reward.”
“Thank you.”
“Truly, my pleasure,” said Aristides. “At the time, you offered to hire me as your bodyguard.”
“I did,” Thalia agreed warily. “I’ve heard that Traders too young to control their Trades hire escorts when they want to go to parties or the theater. Nell told me that’s how she first saw stage magic performed.”
“Traders hire escorts,” Aristides agreed. “They don’t hire me. That’s like trying to hire an on-duty policeman to walk you home.”
“If I’ve offended you, I’m sorry.”
Aristides waved Thalia’s apology away. “You gave me the idea, that’s all.”
“You want me to hire you to be my bodyguard?” Thalia guessed.
“No. Quite the opposite,” said Aristides. “That manticore came right out to shake your hand the moment you set foot in the street. How would you feel about doing that again?”
“Setting foot in the street?” Thalia echoed.
Aristides looked pleased. “You attract them, I’ll kill them. When we don’t find any more manticores, then we will know New York City is safe for young Traders.”
“You mean you want to use me for bait.” Thalia kept her tone polite with some difficulty. For all her wild longing for the outdoors, she had not yet become completely irrational. “I’m against that.”
“No, that’s not it at all,” Aristides assured her, in a tone that made Thalia certain that was exactly what he meant. “Let me explain.”
“No,