Page 50

R eturning Río to the water would make smithies of all of us. Like handling a glowing iron round over an anvil, one careless mistake would make us all burn.

Lulu had hidden the coveralls under the vanity. Across the greenroom, tucked behind a wall of empty salt crates underneath a paint-stained drop cloth, was the tarp. Sewn from canvas, Saul’s silk costumes, and Madam Navya’s saris, it barely took up space folded up. Unfolded, it was gigantic. I scooped it off the floor and threw it to Vera, who had used the black of a burned-up matchstick to draw herself a mustache.

In a separate crate was all the hardware Morgan retained from having disassembled the wheels back in March. Most of the tank’s undercarriage was intact behind the wooden and steel platform that propped it up, but the braces would need to be reattached if there was any hope the ride wouldn’t crush the wheels.

We had precious little time for it. Our diversion was flimsy at best; no one could say how long it would be before either Morgan or the Agostinellis caught on that they’d been duped.

I was carrying the tool crate to the tank when Eli showed up with the first snag of the evening.

“Looks like Reynolds’s stooges have already been here.” A stack of droopy rubber tubing was laid across Eli’s arms, the very hose I’d used only yesterday to replace Río’s water.

It was in pieces.

“ No me digas ,” I breathed as Matthias hissed, “You gotta be kidding.”

“Pump’s been busted too,” said Eli.

Emmett stomped his peg leg on the stage. “Those dirty bastards were trying to kill Río ahead of opening!”

“How’d you know it was them?” I asked feebly.

He tugged on his blond hair. “It’s always them!”

I put down the crate, picked up a severed piece of hose, and felt a whole lot less conflicted about Emmett’s intention to pin Río’s disappearance on these Dreamland sons of bitches.

“Forget the pump then. We open the hatch at the bottom of the tank.” I picked up a pry bar. “ Pa’lante .”

Vera, Eli, and Sonia rushed outside to corral the horses and move the basin, which would catch the water we drained from the tank. Meanwhile, Matthias, Eli, and I took our pry bars to the platform, releasing the tank from its side panels one at a time, each snap of splintering wood setting my teeth on edge.

When I raised my head to check on Río, he was flat on his back on the tank floor, his hand in a fist over his chest. Panting.

“Faster,” I grunted, ripping into another wooden panel.

By the time we’d freed the tank of the platform, Eli was rolling open the barn door to the loading dock, where the Menagerie’s horses towed the same wagon that had made the journey to Red Hook. Matthias rushed over to help Sonia and Eli lug the basin to the metal hatch I’d built into the tank side, all of them red-faced with heat. Vera alone seemed unperturbed. In the face of our collective tension, she dismounted the horse with the manner of a master grifter practiced in midnight escapes, an unlit rompepecho hanging casually from her lips.

I caught my breath. “Here’s the tricky part.”

“Whaddaya mean?” said Eli indignantly. “Wasn’t that the tricky part?”

“That hatch got sealed from the outside,” I explained. “We gotta break the seal to let the water out.”

“Allow me.” Matthias pushed past Eli and Emmett toward the hatch. “I just gotta twist this doodad here, right?”

“Well, yeah, but don’t open it too wide,” I said. It hadn’t been opened since March and now held the pressure of hundreds of gallons of water—and one dying tritón —behind it. “It needs to close again, and we don’t wanna flood the stage.”

“Got it.”

Matthias wrapped both hands around the bolt handle and pulled upward. His eyes narrowed, the cords of his forearms bulging against his shirt. His already wide neck widened further with strain. I gripped San Cristóbal .

“Nothing’s happening. Something supposed to be happening?”

“Will you shut yer hole, Emmett,” said Vera breathlessly.

Suddenly, near the strongman’s hands came a groan of metal grinding against itself. I squinted at the iron frame surrounding the hatch; water was now dribbling from the corner.

“Yes,” whispered Sonia. “It’s working!”

“Almost,” grunted Matthias. “Damn thing’s... stuck tighter than... a flea’s ass...”

He gave it another tug, rocking the whole tank. Water swished gently.

“Careful, big guy,” said Eli, looking warily up at the tank. “This thing’s standing on nothing but stilts.”

Matthias let go and shot him a withering glare. “You wanna come over here and do it, simp?”

“Nah, you’re already there.”

Shaking out his hands, Matthias once more curled his palms around the bolt handle. “C’mon, mighty man. Soft hands...” He gave it another jerk.

This time, there was a hiss like a cap releasing from its bottle of soda water. Gradually, the hatch ground up the metal tracks that held it, and the trickle of water grew until it poured green and clouded with sand into the basin below like Matthias had opened a tap.

“Ha!” I let go of my chain and blew out a gust of air. “John Henry’s got nothing on you, man!”

He stepped away, slapping the blood back into his hands. “They don’t call me ‘mighty’ for nothin’. Brother, what are you doing ?”

I’d laid down on my back and slid myself right under one of the reaches with a wrench in my hand. “Quick, hand me two pins, a reach brace, and a couple o’ them axel clips,” I ordered. “Someone get another set and take the opposite side. We gotta get the wheels on two at a time.”

“This looks... not safe,” Sonia said in a small voice.

From my spot under the tank, legs swayed, and feet shuffled in place. “Anyone?” I asked.

“Well now, don’t all volunteer at once,” grumbled Vera, who crouched down and plucked the materials off the ground.

To the set of feet next to Emmett’s prosthetic leg, I said, “Eli, fit the jack in the middle between Vera and me and crank it so it’s level.”

Eli knelt next to my head with the jack and maneuvered it into place. “We only got one stinkin’ jack?”

“Unless Emmett’s willing to sacrifice his hardware below the knee for the cause,” huffed Vera.

She got down on the ground beside me. I held up the wrench. “See that reach over your head? You’re gonna—”

“Save your breath, Benny, I know what I’m doin’.” She fit the brace against the reach and stuck a pin between her teeth like a cigarillo. “Used to fix undercarriages for Lord Sanger. Mind your own wheel.”

So Vera and I went to work. Between us, Eli began cranking. I mentally ran through my list of actions in order: Brace.Pin. Clip. Fasten. Vera was moving faster than I was.

Suddenly, as the top of the jack met the iron, a tremor ran through the metal with a loud creak from behind our heads. Eli’s hands flew off the jack.

The creak became a groan.

I looked at Vera, the whites of her panicked eyes glittering back at me, then whipped my head back the other way to find the stilts folding in like an invisible motorcar was grinding into them.

“Get out of the way!” I shouted. “Matthias, shut the hatch! ?Apúrate! ”

Vera rolled sideways. Emmett yanked me out by my ankles. As soon as we were clear, Matthias slammed the hatch closed.

The tank listed, slowly at first, then faster as gravity redistributed water directly into the corner joint where iron met glass. Like a steamer hull on rough seas, a hollow groan echoed off the theater walls followed by an earthquaking crunch as the corner of the tank collided with the stage floor, nearly knocking us off our feet.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” panted Vera. “Punched a hole right through the feckin’ floorboards!”

I couldn’t speak. The tank was tilted. Irreversibly. One rear swan spring was all that was keeping it from completely capsizing now that an entire corner of the cage was stuck in the stage .

My head aching with anxiety and shortness of breath, I scrambled over to the iron bracket now jammed in wood and knelt beside it with my hand against the pane. Río was wedged against the corner, his head back, eyes closed and mouth open, gulping water. “ Amor, ?cómo—? ”

I never finished asking if he was all right. Numbly, I peeled my hand off the glass and rubbed my thumb across my fingertips.

“What is it?” ventured Sonia.

“The glass is wet.”

“ What? ” said Emmett.

“The tank. It’s leaking.”

Emmett hurried over and ran his own fingers over the surface. “I thought you said this glass couldn’t break!”

“It didn’t . It’s the pitch. The stuff that seals the glass to the iron. It probably loosened in the heat.”

I stood back for a better look at what we were dealing with. Though the tank was otherwise intact, it would never stand upright again, that was for damn sure. For all I knew, the moment Matthias tried to tip it back up, water would burst through the seals, flooding the theater and trapping Río in his bulletproof cage.

Eli yanked off his cap and cowered. “God, Benny, I’m so sorry—”

“No, this was my mistake,” I said. “The draining water pulled Río’s body toward the hatch. I didn’t consider what might happen if he set the weight off balance. Cono .”

I pointed to the basin. “Matthias and Vera—dump this water outside, then fill it back up with water from the hydrants, fast as you can.”

As they crouched around the basin to lift it, I threw off my coveralls and started pulling off my shirt.

“What are you doing?” asked Eli.

I wrenched off one shoe, then the other. “The tank’s dead. If we’re gonna get him back to the ocean, we’ve gotta get him out of here in the basin.”

“The basin ?” Emmett balked. “His tail’s five feet long all by itself! How’s he gonna fit?”

Bending down to grab the hammer and a wrench, I yelled, “Dammit, Emmett, we’ll figure it out! I’ll bring Río up, I just need two extra sets of hands to help me!”

Sweat ran into my eyes and coated my hands, leaving me slipping on the rungs that led to the lattice as I tried to scale them at an angle carrying the tools. Sonia stripped off her skirt and shirtwaist before she and Eli made their precarious ascent up the rungs after me. Carefully, I lowered myself to my knees, propping my bare feet between the lattice gaps to keep from skidding off the roof.

With a smithy’s might, I brought the hammer down onto the padlock, broke it off the shank, and threw open the creaky hatch. Sonia and Eli crouched behind me as I tossed my hammer away, sucked in a breath, and slid into the water.

The tank was bottomless tonight, the water hot and green with algae that stung my eyes as I swam down. My undergarments dragged at my limbs like shackles. When I finally reached Río, I touched his cheek and nearly forgot to keep air in my lungs when he turned up his face toward me and smiled in relief.

I gripped his hand. Aquí estoy , I thought fiercely at him. I’m getting you out of here. Then I gently pulled him upright, got an arm around his waist, and pushed off the floor, aiming for the side where the bars slanted toward the water. We burst through the surface where Sonia and Eli waited, stretched out on their stomachs, their arms reaching for us.

“It’s too far,” rasped Eli. “Can you lift him?”

Even with the tank tipped, draining the water had left too much distance between the hatch and the water’s surface, and Río was a dead weight in my arms, slick as oil and burning with fever. “I—I can’t,” I grunted.

“What if we got a rope?” offered Eli.

My grip was slipping. “I don’t wanna drop him—”

Sonia clapped her hands. “Forget the rope!”

She sat on the vaulted roof with her back toward the ledge and hooked both stockinged feet under the iron bars. Then, as if her spine were made of taffy, she hung upside down over the hatch with her arms outstretched. “Come on, time’s a-wasting!”

Sonia Kutzler was a genius. “Río, can you grab her arms?” I gasped through my teeth.

Breath wheezed into his lungs before his voice came in a gravelly hiss. “I—I th-think s-so.”

Everyone on the tank seemed to trip in their movements at the sound of Río’s voice. Even I startled at hearing his speech so readily added to the mix of panic-laced Brooklynese. Three months ago, he would never have allowed it.

I gently unhooked his arm from my neck and turned him around. Frantically kicking my legs, I used the rest of my strength to raise him by the waist high enough for Sonia to catch him above his elbows.

“Aw, Christ, he’s slipping!” Sonia cried. “Eli!”

Río’s weight plunged me back underwater, but as I pushed him from below, Eli reached around Sonia to tow his body up until all three of them toppled over onto the bars. Río’s head now lay dripping in Sonia’s lap, while Eli clambered back on all fours to help me get out next.

As I found my footing on the lattice and caught my breath, Río gazed at the Fraülein through hooded eyes. She carefully smoothed his hair off his forehead and wrapped an arm across his chest to tame his shaking. “Hiya, angel,” she whispered through trembling lips. “Bet there’s a party waiting for you when you get home.” She looked up at me. “Benny, he’s boiling hot.”

“I know.” I slid myself next to Sonia and searched Río’s body for injuries. His hand was still clamped in a fist over his chest. “ ?Cómo te sientes, querido? ”

“ D-débil ...”

“Emmett, throw me my shirt,” I called down. “Where the hell are they with the basin?”

“They gotta be back any moment. Hydrant’s on the corner, not in Queens,” he called back. My shirt sailed up over the tank side. Sonia caught it and helped me drape it over Río’s chest to cool him.

Suddenly, another loud groan sent vibrations through the metal holding us aloft.

“Guys,” Emmett yelled, “I got some concerns about this hole in the stage!”

But before I could sort out our next step, the tank lurched again and my foot skidded out from under me. The world went topside down—I splashed backward into the water to the muffled sound of Sonia and Eli shrieking my name.

The gap between me and the lattice was a lot wider now. I burst through the surface to find Sonia and Eli’s hands split between holding onto the grill and holding onto Río like passengers clinging to a sinking ship. More worryingly, my ears detected a new sound—the shish of running water. “I’m fine, what’s happening out there?”

“The leak’s worse,” Sonia panted. “We gotta get you outta there, Benny!”

I waded across to the highest point of the tank. “Worry about me later,” I shouted. “Get Río off the roof!”

“I’ll catch him,” Emmett said. “Just lower him down nice ’n’ slow.”

Sonia gently shifted out from under Río’s body, threaded her legs back through the bars, and hung like a spider, over the wall this time. Río’s tail went over the edge first.

“Ow! Watch his fins,” Eli grunted. “They’re sharp!”

Río’s weak gaze met mine as he descended into Emmett’s waiting arms. This must have been what it was like for him to see the rest of the world go by while he stayed trapped in here like a goldfish in a bowl.

Eli landed on the stage and had begun lifting Río’s tail off the floor when the barn doors flew back open. Vera, Matthias, and the coverless wagon rolled through them, the basin loaded and splashing water in its bed.

Vera gasped in horror at the sight of us. “I thought we was getting Río out , not putting Benny in !”

“Gangway!” Matthias pushed past her and scooped Río’s shaking body into his embrace. “Don’t you worry ’bout a thing, your highness. I got you.”

“Eli... grab a sack of salt from the greenroom... dump it in Río’s water,” I panted.

“What about you?” Sonia asked anxiously from her perch on the lattice.

“I’m thinking...”

M adre de Dios , to think McCoy had called this tank a head-smelter back when it had only been a charcoal sketch! I cussed myself for not bothering to leave a kink in the construction that might help break me out of it. If I hadn’t been in such a rush to put the wheels on—if it hadn’t been so goddamned hot —maybe bad leverage wouldn’t have been enough to make this maldito tank sink like the Slocum and we’d already be halfway to— Wait.

That was it. Heat .

“Vera!” I yelped, and the Phoenix rushed over. “Light up a torch! Sonia, toss me a pry bar.”

Eli nabbed it off the stage and lobbed it up where Sonia caught it, then let it drop into my hands. Meanwhile, Vera sprinted into the wing and emerged with a fresh torch and her lighter.

“And God said, ‘Let there be Light,’” she murmured, and her torch licked to life.

Matthias joined her with a second crowbar in his hand. “What’re we doing, Benny?”

“Gotta break the glass,” I huffed.

“Won’t that flood the stage?” Eli argued.

“Forget the goddamn stage!” spat Sonia as she leapt down from the rungs. “If we can’t ditch the tank in Dreamland, we may as well ditch it here and blame them anyway! Now gimme another pry bar!”

I gulped air, ducked under the water, and jabbed the chisel at the glass. It struck with a low gong. So I swung again. Then again. Again . And everyone seemed to understand what I was doing, because Vera put the torch right against the part of the glass I was attacking, while Matthias and Sonia struck it from the other side.

We swung at it until a crack spiderwebbed across the pane. I brought my foot up and kicked at the break as hard as I could until a sound like splintering ice made us all freeze.

Sonia, Matthias, and Vera dove out of the way a split second before the entire viewing pane exploded, spilling a torrent of murky water, sand, glass—and me—out onto the stage. The spray soaked everything up to the third row.

Eli hooted in shock at the soggy aftermath. “Sam’s gonna hit the roof when he sees this! Holy shit!”

I rolled over onto my knees, wheezing, my legs heavy and wobbling. Matthias stepped gingerly over the revolú and helped me to my feet; meanwhile, Vera was staring at me like I’d just earned my human oddity title. “He just held his breath for ten minutes! Did no one else notice that Benny just held his breath for ten bleedin’ minutes?”

“I take back everything I ever said about you bein’ weak,” Matthias said, slapping chunks of pebbled glass off my union suit. “You got dumbbells for balls, brother.”

Grinning weakly, I croaked, “Put that on my next poster.”

I staggered barefoot over to the mound of rainbow cloth. Now that the tank was dead, we didn’t need the whole tarp—but Río’s tail was still hanging bare off the edge of the basin and needed to be wrapped in something wet. I pushed the bundle into Vera’s arms and directed her to tear the saris off while I climbed back into my coveralls.

Finally, blessedly, I reached Río’s side. Eli and Emmett carefully leaned him forward so I could step into the chilled hydrant water behind him. Once I was sitting, they settled his burning body in my arms. Vera was ready with the reams of colorful silk, everyone plunging hands into the water to saturate them and drape them over Río’s tail.

“ Benigno .”

As if they instinctively understood the rare gift of hearing a merman speak, everyone fell silent. Tears instantly clouded my vision, and as his body quaked, he smiled and spoke in a voice softer than the beat of wings. “You have b-become an e-excellent s-swimmer.”

I kissed him. Without thinking. Without caring that God and everyone could see us. I wrapped my arms around his chest and imagined the glow of relief in my heart bleeding into him to stop his shaking, knowing with crushing certainty that I’d never hold anything so precious ever again.

Eventually, Emmett cleared his throat, and we broke apart. My coconspirators stood soberly around the basin.

“We’re so sorry,” Sonia murmured, her head bowed over her algae-stained undergarments. “We should never’ve brought you here, and that’s the truth.”

“P-perhaps you d-did not bring me here,” Río whispered, “b-but the C-Currents did.”

Matthias and Emmett lifted the bows over our heads so Vera could fasten them to the wagon bed. Eli and Sonia spread out the remaining tarp and were about to fly it over us when a new voice echoed across the theater, high-pitched and panicked.

“Mr. Benny! Mr. Benny!”

Madam Navya’s head was bobbing down the aisle in a full sprint toward us. Behind her lumbered Igor, his stride slower than Navya’s but wider by a yard and a half, rolling Lulu in on her wheelchair. Timmy zipped past them, skidding to a stop as soon as his feet met puddles of murky water.

“Stay back, Timmy,” I shouted. “What’s going on?”

“Morgan and those bloody mobsters,” panted Navya. “They’ve figured it out! They are coming this way!”