Page 57 of Alchemy of Secrets

Holland had never wanted to be an actress like her mother. She’d always wanted to be a storyteller like her father. But now, standing there in her mother’s iconic Mirrorland dress, Holland could understand the appeal.

The dress was a little otherworldly, a little speakeasy-romantic, with a pale blue-violet fur that draped around her shoulders and long strings of pearls that went around her neck.

The fitted bodice was covered in a sheer overlay that flowed out at her hips and turned into a short skirt covered in iridescent blue and violet beads that shimmered as she walked.

Adam was dressed like Cross from Knife and Cross , in dark leather breeches, tall boots, a loose brown shirt with sleeves rolled up, and two belts of weapons slung low on his hips.

He was twirling another weapon around his fingers—a knife with an intricate hilt.

The blade fell from his hands as soon as he saw Holland.

She tried not to smile.

It was late when they arrived at the Hollywood Roosevelt. Holland didn’t want to look at the time, because she already knew it wouldn’t be enough.

She could feel the feverish Halloween energy as soon as she and Adam stepped out of the car and approached the double glass doors.

On the other side, a new row of red velvet curtains obscured the view into the hotel, but Holland could hear music playing.

Jazzy, big band music that made her picture swinging skirts and strong drinks in fancy glassware.

A man dressed like a butler from the 1940s stood in front of the curtains.

His pants were pinstripe, his suit coat had tails, and he was holding a silver tray in his gloved hands.

On one side of the tray stood an old-fashioned liquor bottle with a large glass stopper, and on the other was a stack of cream-colored cards with embossed gold writing.

“Take one if you wish to play,” said the butler.

Holland didn’t have time for games. But Adam picked one up with a cheerful “Thanks.” Then he took another and handed it to Holland. She started to brush it aside, but the words on the front stopped her:

__________ did it in the __________ with the __________.

“It’s from the game Clue.” She flipped over the card. The murder happens in a room with a secret passage. Below the clue was a grid, like the ones that came with the actual board game.

“I would have loved this on any other night,” Holland told Adam. But tonight, the clue hit a nerve. “I don’t know if I should feel as if this clue is trolling me or if it’s trying to warn me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Adam grinned, but it was one of those smiles that didn’t touch his eyes.

Animated chatter mingled with the music, growing louder as Holland and Adam ventured up the stairs and down the hall to the lobby, which had been transformed into Clue’s conservatory.

Holland once again thought about her ominous Clue card, since the conservatory in the game was one of the rooms with a secret passage.

A dizzying array of flowering plants had been brought in, filling the room with even more color.

Not that it needed it. The hotel was packed with people in costume, taking pictures and flirting, drinking and kissing, spilling drinks, and trading clues.

It was the time of night when the entire party was tipsy.

Holland felt like the only sober person.

Even Adam had somehow managed to grab a cocktail within minutes.

“Do you see your brother?” she asked.

“No. But he’s here somewhere.” Adam took a long drink as both of them surveyed the room.

From the corner of her eye, Holland thought she saw the Professor. Quickly, she grabbed Adam’s arm.

“What’s wrong?” His drink sloshed as Holland dragged him to the staircase leading up toward the mezzanine, although tonight there were signs for the library, the billiard room, and the ballroom.

“I think I saw the Professor,” Holland whispered. “She’s in the lobby, dressed like Mary Poppins.”

“Mary Poppins, really?”

“It’s actually kind of fitting. She’s magical and not very nice.”

This earned Holland a laugh from Adam as he finished off his drink. She wondered if he was drinking because he was just that confident they’d find the Alchemical Heart, or if he was nervous about seeing his brother.

The stairs were full of more people. Holland and Adam passed a couple dressed as Knife and Cross; another partygoer dressed as a French maid was lying on the ground, posing for a photo as that evening’s dead body. Carefully, Adam and Holland stepped around her.

The mezzanine was somehow teeming with even more people. The band must have been playing in the ballroom, because up here the sound was deafening. Holland could barely hear anything else as she and Adam moved through the crush toward the bowling alley.

She stilled at the sight of a man in a white dinner jacket. Thankfully it wasn’t Mason. But then she saw another man who made all her anxiety bubble back to the surface. “Adam—it’s Gabe.”

He was the only person not in costume. Instead, Gabe was dressed in the same exact clothes he’d worn at JME, and he was moving swiftly toward the bowling alley.

The carelessness left Adam’s expression in a flash. “I’ll take care of him. Just stay here, out of sight.”

“I thought you didn’t want to split up.”

“I don’t. But I also don’t want you to have to go near him again.”

A second later, Adam was gone. Holland watched him move through the crowd until he was lost. And then she started moving, too. According to her watch, she had less than two hours to find the Alchemical Heart. She wasn’t just going to stay—

A strong hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

Holland yelped and drew back her fist. But it was only Chance.

He was dressed like a pirate from the cover of a romance novel, wearing a wig with long golden hair, golden hoops in both his ears, and a very frilly shirt he’d left almost entirely unbuttoned.

A long curving sword was tied to his waist. It was a fantastic costume.

But all Holland’s nerves were on edge. Not even seeing Chance in this costume could calm them.

“You just scared the hell out of me,” she breathed.

“Sorry,” Chance said. “I need to talk to you.” His eyes darted around the crowded mezzanine. “There’s something I need to show you. Can we go somewhere more private?”

“Chance, this really isn’t the best time.” Holland started to push past him, but he blocked her way, smile vanishing.

“You owe me. And you need to see this.” He took her hand before she could protest and started toward the elevators.

“Hey! Are you Chance Garcia?” someone called.

Chance ignored him, pulling Holland into the open elevator and then shutting the doors before anyone else could step inside. She’d never seen him act like this. “Chance, you’re making me nervous.”

“Good.” He pressed a button to an upper floor.

Then, just as the elevator started to ascend, he pushed the emergency stop.

The elevator jolted to a sudden halt. Holland reached for the wall to steady herself, but Chance just stood there, eerily calm.

“You should be nervous. There’s something very wrong with that guy you were with. ”

“Adam?”

Chance nodded. “There’s a reason I took the job on that new Vic Van Vleet film, and it’s not because I wanted to return to acting.

I’ve never stopped being haunted by that last day on The Magic Attic .

I wanted to go back to JME to look into what happened.

For months, that’s what I’ve been doing.

I’ve tried to make friends with people all over the studio, so I could look through old pictures and hear old stories and try to make sense of things.

Today, when I saw you with Adam, it wasn’t the first time I’d seen him.

” Chance held out his phone and showed her a picture of a framed photograph.

“This was the first day of The Magic Attic filming. See anyone familiar?”

Holland, of course, recognized the cast, including a younger Chance.

“You look so happy,” she said.

“I’m not talking about me. Keep looking.”

Holland studied the photograph, and this time it only took her a few seconds to see a face she knew all too well.

Adam Bishop .

“He was the one person in this photo who I couldn’t remember,” said Chance. “I asked around and no one at the studio remembers him, either. But I found him in dozens of other pictures.”

Chance showed her several more photos of Adam.

In every one, he hadn’t aged a day. But the part that most unnerved Holland was that every picture of Adam also showed someone she had included in her thesis—a different person in each photo, but every one was a person who had died under tragic or mysterious circumstances.

“There’s one more photo you should see,” Chance said a little reluctantly. “After I left you at the studio today, I found this one from the set of Mirrorland .