“Jameson? Is that you?” Jeff asked. “It’s me, Jeffrey Braddock, Edwina’s son. I need to speak with Mother—or Grandfather, quickly, it’s Noli, she’s ill.”

She was ill? Was that why she fell as if her skin burned with a million steam engines? Perhaps she could have a nice cool bath.

“Please, let me in Jameson,” Jeff pleaded. “We need a doctor.”

“Jameson, who’s at the door, is that the Parkingtons?” a female voice called.

“Mother … Mama, it’s me,” Jeff called.

Noli tried to sit up at the sound of her mother’s voice.

“Easy, Noli,” Jeff soothed. “We’ll have you in a proper bed soon.”

“Jeffery?” Warm air gushed from somewhere, not nearly as pleasant as the cold air. “What are you doing here?” Mama made a noise of alarm. “What’s wrong with Noli?”

“I don’t know.” His voice broke. “We were coming to visit you for Thanksgiving. Noli fell ill on the way. I … I think Grandfather needs to send for the doctor.”

“Noli, my poor girl. Come in. Jeff, it’s been far too long.” Their mother ushered them in and Noli felt the cold air leave her, replaced by hot air, so stifling it made her whimper. “Jeff, help me get her upstairs. Jameson, get Father and send Ellen up. Oh, hello, who are you?”

“Mother, if I might present Victoria Adler, of Kentucky. She and I have recently become engaged. We were coming to visit you, in part so that I might introduce you to her.” Jeff moved as he spoke, Noli with him. “Vix, this is my mother, Edwina Braddock.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Braddock, Jeff and Noli speak so highly of you,” Vix replied as polite as could be.

“Why Jeffrey, you’ve gotten engaged?” Their mother’s voice swelled with pride. “My word, I wasn’t expecting that. Victoria, we’ll talk. Jeff, let’s put Noli in the nursery. We freshened it up for your little cousins, but they didn’t come at the last moment.”

Noli felt her mother’s hand on her forehead.

“You don’t think it’s influenza, do you?” Mama’s voice tinged with worry.

“I don’t think so—no one on the ship has fallen ill but Noli, and Jeff’s barely left her side,” Vix replied.

She felt herself being laid down on a bed. Ah, that was it. Now, if someone would open the window.

Mama repositioned her on the bed, helping her to get comfortable. “Is she still in her corset?” Outrage colored Mama’s voice. “How many days has she been in her corset? Truly, Jeff? Off with you, now. Why don’t you and your young lady help your Grandfather summon a doctor? Ellen,” she bellowed. “Noli, sweetheart we’re going to get you into something more comfortable. Ellen! I need your help.

Mama.” Noli’s eyes flickered open to make sure it was her mother and not a figment of her imagination. Or a croquet mallet.

“I’m right here.” Her mother began to undress her. “Ellen!”

“Mama, I don’t feel good.” Heavy, Noli’s eyes closed. It hurt to form words.

I don’t feel good either, the sprite whined.

Her mother brushed her hair away from her face. “Hold on, Noli. Just hold on. We’re going to get the doctor. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

All Noli wanted was a drink of water and a nap in a tree. When she opened her mouth the words didn’t emerge. But her mother would figure it out. Mama always knew exactly what she needed when she fell ill. This time would be no exception.

James and Steven trudged through the snow to Dr. Heinz’s house. Rahel rode on Steven’s back; it was faster than her walking through the ever-present muddy slush.

“Are we there yet?” Rahel asked. Again.

“Not yet,” Steven replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Again.

James pointed to the horizon. “Look, I think it’s up ahead. Rahel, let’s race.”

“Yessss!” Her squeal hurt Steven’s ears as he set her down. Doll clutched in her arms, she raced James down the mucky road.

They beat Steven to the house. James was already knocking on the door when he trudged up the front steps, legs freezing.

The door opened and Bridgid poked her head out. “Yes?”

“Oh, Bridgid, look who we found?” James’ voice went singsong.

“Bridgid, Bridgid!” Rahel flew past James and wrapped her arms around the young housekeeper’s legs.

“Rahel. Oh, Rahel. Dr. Heinz, come quickly,” she shouted as she hugged Rahel tightly right there in the doorway. “Come in.” She ushered all of them inside. “Dr. Heinz,” she called.

Tasty smells from the kitchen made his belly rumble. Dr. Heinz appeared looking much like the last time with his leather apron over his clothes and magnifying goggles on his head.

“Popi!” Rahel flung herself at her father.

He caught her and swung her into his arms. “Rahel, oh, my Rahel.” Sobs of joy leaked from his lips. For several moments he just held his daughter, murmuring her name over and over. Bridgid bustled off to get everyone tea.

“Thank you so much,” Dr. Heinz told them, still clutching his daughter. “I cannot express how grateful I am.”

“It was our pleasure.” Steven couldn’t help but smile at the man’s happiness, though thank yous always made him uncomfortable.

“You have the automaton?” James asked.

“James,” Steven hissed as he elbowed his rude little brother.

James shot him a wounded look as he rubbed his side. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Please, be my guest for Thanksgiving, I insist.” Dr. Heinz gave his daughter a kiss. “We’ll have a feast indeed. Yes, your automaton is ready. Tomorrow, you can be off.”

“We would be honored to share your Thanksgiving meal,” Steven replied. A hot meal and a real bed sounded splendid. However, he wouldn’t truly relax until the automaton had been delivered and the quest declared completed. “Oh, I finished your book.”

Dr. Heinz smiled. “And what did you think of Machiavelli?”

“It was interesting to learn more about his philosophies.” Even if he didn’t agree with most of them. Things such as it is much more secure to be feared than to be loved seemed far more his mother and uncle’s philosophy than his own.

Rahel frowned at them, lower lip jutting out in a pout. “You’re leaving?”

Steven nodded. “Tomorrow. We have to get the present back to our mother—”

“In time for her birthday,” James added, ignoring Steven’s hard look at both the lie and the interruption.

Rahel clutched her dollies tight. “When will you find Noli?”

At least she was safe with Jeff. Wait, perhaps he should dream search for her, at least he could talk to her, make sure she was all right. He could smack himself for not thinking of it sooner. Yes, he’d dream search for her tonight.

“Soon.” Steven felt lighter at the thought. “I’ll find Noli very soon.”

“I can’t believe we’re going to a bawdy house with an automaton,” Steven muttered as James led him back into Mathias’ burlesque hall.

“I’m sure there’s a naughty joke in there some place.” James opened the door. At least this time his coat didn’t squirm with a fluffy cat.

Steven lugged the blanket wrapped child-sized form inside the lobby, his brother tossing the doorman coins and elbowing past him. Neither felt like playing games. Also, he hadn’t been able to find Noli last night when he dream searched for her and that made worry ball in the pit of his stomach. Either she’d stayed up all night or something was wrong.

The same dark-haired woman in the same scanty red outfit sauntered over to them. “I thought I told you to be properly dressed next time,” she sniffed, wiggling her hips for emphasis. Her eyes lingered on Steven’s bruised face.

“Sorry.” James gave her a disarming grin. “We’re here to see Mathias.”

What they needed to know was the location of the closest portal back to the Otherworld. The quest wasn’t over until the item had been delivered—which meant they could be harassed by helpers until then. He still hadn’t forgotten the gunmen over Deseret—or Igan and his friends.

“What is that?” She gestured to the blanket-covered automaton, leading them back through the curtain and down the passage, waggling her bottom at James in the process.

James grinned at Steven. “My brother brought his own date.”

Steven thumped his brother in the arm. “Lay off.”

Rolling his eyes, he rubbed his arm and snorted. “You are such a fussy old bodger.”

Noli. Every time James called him V or fussy old bodger it sent pangs through his heart sharper than any sword. He looked over at James who was as laid-back and flirtatious as ever, even after losing the love of his life. How did he do it? If anything happened to Noli he might not be able to carry on. Certainly, not like James.

The woman sat them at a table in the corner with a good view of the stage show, which seemed more subdued than last time. Today, those present seemed more interested in food and conversation than the show. A woman sat in a giant birdcage, singing. Steven sat the wrapped automaton in her own chair.

“Mathias will see you shortly.” Waggling her fingers at James, she left them alone.

“How do you do it?” Steven asked James. “I know you miss Charlotte, I know you loved her, I just don’t understand how you carry on, flirting and joking as if nothing ever happened.”

James face darkened like a storm cloud. “I miss her so much.”

“Of course you do.” He couldn’t even fathom his brother’s pain.

“I could either lie in bed and pine for her, or continue on with my life—and someone,” he shot Steven a look of mock-annoyance, “wouldn’t let me stay a-bed. Also,” he sighed, running his fingers through his wayward curls. “Moping won’t bring her back. All the yearning in the world won’t bring her back. She made me promise I’d go on with my life, and this,” he held out his hands, “is the only way I know how.”