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“It has an X on it,” Constance countered, pointing a finger at the symbol in question.

“That could be a ten,” Ellie pushed back uncertainly. “A measure of distance. A temporary stand-in for an unknown place name.”

“It. Is. An. X.” Constance’s firm tone dared Ellie to disagree. “And what exactly is it that thisXis meant to indicate?”

“The White City,” Ellie replied weakly, sinking down a bit in her chair.

“And what is the White City, Eleanora?” Constance pressed relentlessly.

Ellie felt as though Constance was glaring down at her, though Ellie topped her by a few solid inches even when sitting down.

“A-mythical-kingdom-of-untold-riches-and-splendor,” Ellie blurted quickly before clamping her mouth shut again.

“I see,” Constance returned archly. “And are you going to tell me where you came by this not-a-treasure-map to a mythical kingdom of untold riches and splendor?”

?

Two cups of tea and three eclairs later, Constance leaned across the table with conspiratorial glee.

“Are you telling me that you were outside the door while anactual criminalused physical violence to intimidate your incompetent supervisor?” she demanded.

Ellie’s friend spoke of eavesdropping on an assault as though it were more exciting than stumbling across a parade.

“I’m afraid so,” Ellie replied. She popped the last half of a pastry into her mouth and dusted off her fingers.

Constance let out a squeak of outrage. “The nerve of that man! Selling the possible find of the century for his own pecuniary gain! And I would bet my right foot that he didn’t even get a proper price for it. From everything you have told me about Mr. Henbury, he would be utterly ignorant of the true potential value of this document.” Constance tapped the parchment with a purposeful finger.

Ellie reached across the table and slowly snatched the map back. She slipped it into her pocket as she prayed that Constance’s finger had been entirely free of chocolate. The seventeenth-century relic’s proximity to so many eclair crumbs was making her distinctly nervous.

“Yes, well… It’s all moot now,” Ellie said. “Henbury couldn’t deliver the objects from the psalter because I’d already—er, borrowed them without asking… and now he has gone and given my name to the criminal in question in order to try and save his own skin.”

“The sheer cheek of it, really,” Constance noted disapprovingly.

“Quite,” Ellie agreed. “And so here I am. I’m afraid I might have panicked and bolted right out of the building. I just knew I needed to talk to someone so I could get my head straight about what to do.”

“And have you?” Constance asked.

Ellie’s shoulders sank a bit. “I have. It’s silly it took me so long to admit it to myself. I must bring the map to the Royal Geographical Society and… and leave it with them,” she finished stoutly.

Inside, part of her felt as though it were wilting.

Constance’s only answer was an eloquently raised eyebrow.

“Don’t do that,” Ellie protested. “Don’t give me that look.”

“What look?” Constance pushed back.

“Thatone,” Ellie replied. “The one that says you disapprove of the entirely sensible thing I am planning on doing.”

“Now why would I do that?” Constance returned blandly, taking another sip of her tea.

“Because you know the RGS is going to shut me out of it!” The words came out a bit louder than Ellie had intended. She took in a few alarmed looks from the other patrons and lowered her voice to a fervent hiss. “You know that they will take the map and the medallion, wave me off, and be done with me. In the worst case scenario, the objects will end up in some box gathering dust in their archives, and in the best case, they’ll dispatch one of their members to British Honduras to track down the site marked on the map and determine whether anything is there.”

“And if something is there?” Constance prompted.

“If we are lucky, the fellow assigned to lead the expedition will actually do a reasonable job instead of mucking up the sediment layers and using inconsistent forms of documentation,” Ellie replied. “If that is the case, then really, it will all have turned out perfectly fine.”

“Will it?” Constance gently pressed.