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> “The good thing about egotistical men is that they are so easy to control. I delivered so many papers to Hamilton and what did he go and do? He used them all! By my count, Madison wrote 29, John Jay five, and Hamilton wrote 10 on his own, taking all of mine for a staggering total of 51.”
“Don’t. Read. Them,” said Beatrice, her voice booming in my head. “Put them back in the envelope and go deliver them.”
I complied but my hand was gripping the papers so hard I thought I would tear the notes in two.
“What do they say?” I shouted in my mind.
“You don’t want to know,” said Beatrice.
“Yes, I think I do, seeing as they involve my friends.”
“Friends you don’t even like, friends who you think keep you around because they pity you.”
How did she know th-
“We don’t have time to play this game, Jen. You saw my memories, I saw yours, remember? Your friends are the diversion you asked about earlier. And anyway, we have a contract. I’ve fulfilled my end and now it’s time for you to fulfill yours.”
“I never thought that meant, that you would make me…”
“You can make your excuses and your apologies later. But now you will do what I ask.”
“Why does it have to be them? There are hundreds of people here. Any one of them would do!”
“No, they won’t. The ink needs a name to work. It can’t just be a random person. And I wasn’t about to bring the ink here to write a note on the fly. So I’ll leave you to it now and trust that you’ll get the job done.”
The throbbing subsided and I was alone again with just my thoughts and the notes. I stared at the envelope, wondering what commands Beatrice had written for Lisa and Stacy. Would the notes just make them start yelling uncontrollably so they would be escorted out? Or something far far worse, like a death note?
No, she wouldn’t go that far. It wasn’t necessary and would probably cause even more of a scene.
I could just run away. Maybe if I got far enough, the apples would stop working and she wouldn’t be able to find me.
I held up my hand and felt the ring tug my finger gently forward.
I could resign myself to wearing this stupid thing for the rest of my life if it meant stopping Beatrice from ruining tonight. I would go to the airport now, fly to London, meet Duncan in Paris, go straight to Hong Kong, and then never return. I would find the Quest Board in Hong Kong and then grind my way up so that if I ever felt this ring tug on my finger again, I would be ready for her.
My hand trembled as I lifted the seat and I held the envelope over the open toilet. All I had to do was let go. Let go and run. Run and never look back.
No.
I couldn’t.
It was too late.
The plan was already in my head. If I ran, as soon as Beatrice came back into my mind and I didn’t answer, she’d know what I was going to do. I doubted if I could even get out of the Museum
I put the envelope in my clutch and opened the stall to see Stacy washing her hands at the sink. She spotted me in the mirror and turned around.
“Oh hi JJ!” she said. “That was a great talk, don’t you think?”
I walked over to the sink next to her and started to wash my hands, the pounding of my heart so loud it sounded like someone had pulled it from my chest and held it up to my ears.
“Oh, umm, yeah. It was, uh, interesting. But I’m looking forward to getting to walk around the Museum a little bit. Haven’t been here in ages.”
“Well, don’t take too long. Lisa wants an early night tonight, so we don’t miss our flight at 6 tomorrow morning.”
“Right,” I said. I walked over to the hand dryer and debated whether to give Stacy the note now. It didn’t sound like there was anyone else in the bathroom, which would make things simpler, but with the reception about to begin, she might start going crazy in front of everyone.
I looked over and Stacy was still at the sink, fixing her hair.
I wasn’t going to get a better shot. It had to be now.
I opened my clutch and pulled out both notes. Looking at the ink through the paper, I could see the one that had Stacy’s name at the beginning and slid the other one away. I walked back over to Stacy and held out the note.
“What’s this?” she said, giving me a funny look.
“Oh, it’s just a little note I wrote. Was feeling sentimental thinking about how much we’ve changed since you guys walked by my dorm room that day.”
“JJ, that’s so sweet! I’ll save this for the plane ride tomorrow morning. I really need to get back out there. Lisa’s going to try to talk to Dali-”
“Would you mind reading it now? I just, I don’t want you to forget.”
“Oh. OK,” she said, unfolding the note.
I bit my lip as Stacy began to read. The note looked short and in a few seconds, Stacy looked back up at me with a confused expression on her face.
“JJ, what-”
Stacy’s eyes suddenly turned glassy as the command activated and without another word, she sprinted out of the bathroom.
“Stac, where are you going?” I yelled after her, but she was gone.
“The first note is away,” I said loudly in my head and felt the familiar pressure return.
“Good,” said Beatrice. “Now go give the other one quickly. We won’t have a big enough window if you don’t.”
“OK,” I said and she was gone again.
I put Stacy out of my mind and walked out of the bathroom.
The reception was bustling with women in incredibly high heels and dressed to the nines, who were still making their way out of the lecture. If Stacy had caused a scene, it must have been a minor one, because everyone was acting normal. A server passed by with a tray of champagne flutes and I grabbed one in stride, taking a long sip as I continued to scan the room for any sign of Lisa, but didn’t see her. I walked over to a set of blown-up photographs I had seen earlier, which were mounted on easels and relatively unattended.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
An older looking woman stood stoically in front of a young girl in pigtails on a random city street. I didn’t need to read the caption to figure out that it was Thera DeWitt and a young Dalia, as the woman and her granddaughter, as she was now, bore many of the same features.
I heard a small commotion as the actual Dalia entered the foyer on the far side of the room.
She had changed out of the boots and was now sporting a pair of incredibly high platform heels and a jewel-studded handbag. A gaggle of women had already made their way over to pay homage to her, so I left the photos and walked to the periphery of the gathering, note in hand, hoping to see Lisa. I spotted her after a few seconds, slowly pushing her way toward Dalia. If she got to Dalia before I got to her, I would lose my chance, so I started politely elbowing my way through the outer circle of the group until I reached her.
“Lis, there you are. Been looking all over for you. Listen, can I talk to you for a sec?”
“One minute, JJ, just want to try to say hello to Dalia.”
She lurched forward further into the crowd, but I grabbed her by the arm and held her back.
“JJ, what the fuck are you-”
I held the note in front of her face and watched as the hard expression softened into the glossy mask that Stacy had also worn. All fight drained out of Lisa, and she took the note from my hand without a word, before sprinting away and almost knocking over a waitress carrying a full tray of champagne.
A sudden wave of despondency came over me, and I brought my hand up to my eyes to block the tears that were forming, but it was too late. I had sacrificed my two friends on the Questing altar and for what? A pat on the back from a murderer? There would be time enough to wrestle with what I’d done, but all I wanted to do now was get the hell out of this museum.
“It’s done,” I said in my head.
“Excellent!” said Beatrice. “I’m already in the Egyptian wing at the spot. There’s nothing here, so it must be in the second-floor collection. Meet me there.”
“OK,” I said. The room was filled to the brim now, and I slowly forced my way against the stream of people until I reached the stairs leading up to the second floor landing overlooking the foyer. I walked as fast as my heels would allow, passing an assortment of silver plates and amphoras. The next room was filled with statues of Buddha but thankfully no one else. But as I made my way up a small staircase that led to the next room, I saw in the distance someone running toward me.
I quickly walked back down the stairs and crouched down behind them. The footsteps got louder and I held my breath, waiting for one of my friends to appear. But instead, I heard the crackle of a radio as someone made their way down.
“Requesting backup in Abstract gallery and in Arms and Armor. Multiple alarms triggered in each gallery,” said a voice over the radio.
“Copy,” said the security guard as he walked into the room and out the way I had come in. I emerged from my hiding place and continued on, my pace quickening.
“Security is heading toward Lisa and Stacy,” I said. “Just hid from a guard and heard over the radio.”
“Then we don’t have much time left. Hurry,” said Beatrice.
The stairs led up into a room with two lion statues astride an opening in the shape of a half-moon on the opposite wall. I passed through the doorway and suddenly found myself in what appeared to be a re-creation of a Chinese courtyard. I ran through a rock garden and onto a stone terrace that lined the perimeter of the room. My heels echoed so loudly on the stones, I thought the security guard was going to do a 180 and come after me, but thankfully I reached the doorway leading out without incident.
“Where are you?” asked Beatrice in my head.
“Just walked through a weird courtyard and am now in a room filled with objects in glass cases,” I said.
“Me too,” said Beatrice, who appeared from around the back of a case with shelves of different colored jugs wearing a short red dress and black heels. “You look terrible.”
“Fuck you,” I said without thinking. “You couldn’t have come up with a different plan? One that didn’t involve my friends getting arrested?”
Beatrice took her phone out of the small purse slung over her shoulder, looked at it, and frowned.
“Great, no GPS. And yes, I did come up with a different plan. Several, actually. But all involving multiple moving parts and too much uncertainty. Seems like I was right anyway. We are where we need to be, and our escape should be relatively easy thanks to Lisa and Stacy.”
“I don’t care! About any of it!” I tried to rein in my shouts, but it was like a dam had burst and all my anger had come pouring out.
“Keep your voice down, for fuck’s sake! You want to ruin everything after your friends are already expended?” Beatrice said in my head.
“No!” I answered in my mind. “But that doesn’t mean-”
“Enough,” she said. “We’ll sort everything out later, your friends, the bachelorette, Duncan’s ultimatum. Let’s just get what we came for and get out of here.”
“How do you kn-”
“You’re not very good at compartmentalizing your thoughts, Jen. A lesson for another day if you still want to stick around. But right now, we need to look through these cases and see if we can figure out what’s hidden here.”
“Fine,” I said.
I pulled out my phone and saw the same “No GPS” indication. This would make things nearly impossible, given the number of items on display. There were pewter mugs, crystal candlesticks, decorative plates, small busts of historical figures, and on and on. It was too much.
Who knew which of these mundane objects was really something fantastical, hiding in plain sight? Maybe the silver pitcher in front of me was actually a magic pitcher that turned water into wine. Or maybe it was just a silver pitcher, stashed here in obscurity, to be forgotten until the Museum closed.
“Any luck?” said Beatrice.
“No, it’s just a bunch of old junk. Whoever hid something here was smart though. It’s like the room where they hid the Ark at the end of Raiders. One of these stupid cups could be the Holy Grail for all we know.”
I touched one of the glass cases, dragging my fingers along the surface.
“There has to be something here we’re missing,” I said. “It’s like a twisted game of Let’s Make a Deal, except instead of three doors, it’s a thousand.”
“Clearly,” said Beatrice. “With insight like that, I don’t know how we haven’t already opened the right door.”
Wait, that was it!
“Find a door knob!” I shouted in my mind.
“What?” said Beatrice.
“The door in Long Island City. You knocked the knob off when you punched it. But maybe that knob wasn’t the real one…”
“Oh. OH! Of course!”
We ran down the rows of cases in unison, trying to find the door knob in a haystack. Even knowing what we were looking for wasn’t enough, as the shelves and cases and items seemed endless.
“Found it!” called Beatrice from several rows over and I dashed to the end of my row and looped back around to find her standing in front of a shelf lined with spoons and three brown door knobs.
“There’s three of them,” I said, leaning my head close to the glass.
“Another brilliant deduction,” said Beatrice, sarcasm dripping in her voice. “I’m glad I brought you tonight.”
“Shut it, OK?” I snapped and Beatrice went quiet.
The door knobs were lined up in a neat row, the dark brown mottled with white streaks. A tiny card affixed to the glass read “door knobs, circa 1850.”
“Smash and grab job, huh?” I said, rapping on the glass with my knuckle.
“Slightly more complicated than that,” Beatrice said, fiddling with her amethyst ring. “Not sure I won’t smash the door knobs too if I use this.” She slid off that ring and put it on to her left pinky finger before sliding off her rock of an engagement ring too.
“You’re going to cut through the glass with that?” I asked. “I thought that only worked in the movies.”
“No, I’m taking these off so I can get a better grip on the Medoblad. You have it, right?”
“Yep. Snuck it through security in my Sp-”
“Just give it to me, please.”
“Fine,” I said, unbuckling my belt so I could pull up my dress.
“What the hell are you doing?” Beatrice said, turning away.
“I told you, I hid the knife in my Spanx under the belt buckle. I thought it was a pretty neat-”
“The Medoblad isn’t made of metal. It wouldn’t have set off the detector.”
“Oh,” I said. I pulled the knife free and handed it to Beatrice, who flipped it around and gripped the leather sheath.
“OK, no more talking from here on out. Put your belt back on and get ready to leave. You remember the exit route?”
“Yes,” I said. “But what about Lisa and Stacy?”
“What about them? I’m sure they’ll let them out of whatever holding cell they’re in by the morning. The command should have worn off as soon as they finished their tasks.”
“And if it hasn’t?” I said.
“Well, then they might go insane from the command echoing in their ears all night. But that likely didn’t happen. Anyway, don’t contact me until you get back. And if the trip gets canceled, wait a week before reaching out. Unless you need bail money for your friends.”
“How generous of you. That’s the thing I love about this job, all the unexpected perks.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes at me and shook her head before taking a small piece of plastic out of her bag. She unwrapped what I assumed was one of her strength buffs, popped it in her mouth, and began to chew.
“Stand back.”
She tapped the ivory handle against the glass in front of the knobs three times before drawing her arm back and, in one smooth motion, smashing the knife handle against the case. Beatrice withdrew her now-bloodied hand out of the newly formed opening and handed the knife back to me, which I quickly stuffed back under my Spanx before putting on my belt again.
“Shit,” she said. “Too much force.” She reached her hand back into the opening and carefully retrieved the door knobs one by one, placing them in her bag.
“Hmm, thought there would be an ala-”
The blaring interrupted the thought, and I slowly backed away from Beatrice, before turning and walking out of the maze of cases.
“See you on the other side,” she said. “And Jen?”
“What?” I said, reaching the staircase at the end of the gallery.
“If you don’t come back from Paris, I’ll still find you. Eventually.”