he’s doing the same thing at the Society. And now, if my grandparents tell the truth, if they say Mr. Birthwhistle tried to kill them, it will only reinforce the claim that they’re insane. Who’s going to believe them?”
“Fait accompli,” Adélaïde mumbled, lowering the article.
“Stop using your fancy French words,” Oliver insisted. “What does that even mean?”
“It means if Archer’s right, Mr. Birthwhistle has trapped his grandparents.” She turned to Archer, frowning. “But why? Why would he want to kill your grandparents?”
“My grandfather said there was a disagreement about something.”
Oliver wrinkled his forehead. “Adélaïde and I have disagreements all the time, but it’s not like we would ever…” He paused. Adélaïde was grinning at him in an odd way. “Well, maybe you would leave me on an iceberg. But I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“My grandfather wouldn’t tell me more,” Archer explained. “But I know someone who will. My roommate at Raven Wood—I didn’t know it, but his father is Mr. Birthwhistle! There’s a banquet at the Society tonight. I’m going to find Benjamin there. And I’d like you two to come with me.”
“You want us to come with you to the place where the president is someone who tried to kill your grandparents?” Oliver asked slowly.
At a knock on the door, Archer shoved the newspaper clippings behind his pillow. His grandparents stepped into the room with grins as wide as could be.
“Would this be the infamous trio?” Grandpa Helmsley asked. “Adélaïde and Oliver?”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Grandma Helmsley said, shaking both their hands. “Archer has told us all about you. The life raft and your wooden leg. If you don’t mind my asking, dear, how do you find getting around on that?”
“It changed everything,” Adélaïde replied. “But I’m mostly used to it now.”
“You’ll fit right in at the Society,” Grandpa Helmsley said. “Speaking of which, I can’t say your mother is thrilled, Archer, but your father agreed. And will you two be joining us?”
“We’ll talk to our parents,” Adélaïde said, glancing at Oliver. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”
“Very good.” Grandpa Helmsley looked at his watch. “Cornelius will be picking us up in a few hours, but we’d like to mention a few things now. Rachel and I have business to see to while we’re at the Society. I don’t expect you three to keep to our sides the whole time. In fact, I’d prefer that you don’t.”
“But we do expect you to stay nearby,” Grandma Helmsley added. “There’s a lot to see there, but no wandering off on your own. We’ll be in the Grand Hall for the evening. And the Grand Hall is where we’d like you all to stay. I can assure you it will be filled with many characters.”
Mr. Helmsley appeared in the doorway. “And when you return,” he said to Archer’s grandparents, “as promised, you begin to sort things out.” He motioned for Archer to join him out in the hall.
“I know you’re excited, Archer,” his father said. “But while you’re at the Society, you must follow your grandparents’ rules. Your grandmother’s right. The Society is filled with characters. But not everyone is good-natured. Use your head. Mind yourself.”
♦ BRIDGES TO SECRETS ♦
That evening, Archer stood at the door pulling on his coat alongside his grandparents. Mrs. Helmsley was in the sitting room, peering through the curtain at a filthy black truck idling outside the house. “This will not become a regular thing.” Next door, Oliver was also eyeing the truck from the Glubs’ front steps. Adélaïde was with him, watching plumes of smoke dance around it.
“Isn’t the mist pretty?” she said.
“That’s exhaust,” Oliver replied.
Archer and his grandparents climbed down the front steps. Oliver and Adélaïde joined them at the truck. Cornelius leaned out the window to greet them and spotted Adélaïde.
“The crocodile girl!”
Adélaïde curtsied.
“She’s actually just the lamppost girl,” Oliver clarified.
“Whatever you are, it’s my pleasure to be your transport this evening.”
The inside of the truck was every bit as a filthy as the outside.
“It smells like stale coffee and grease,” Oliver noted, climbing into the backseat alongside Archer and Adélaïde.
Grandma and Grandpa Helmsley joined Cornelius up front. Once their doors were shut, Cornelius slammed his foot on the gas, and they barreled off down the snowbound streets. Archer’s grandparents didn’t seem to notice the speed. But Archer, Oliver, and Adélaïde scrambled for something to brace themselves with as the truck swerved on the snow and ice.
“I think he’s more used to steering ships,” Archer whispered, taking holding of a strap dangling from the roof.
“And he does only have one eye,” Adélaïde agreed, gripping the strap as well.
“Or maybe reckless is just his style?” Oliver suggested, prying his face off the front seat and reaching up.
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