The Serpent's Curse by Lisa Maxwell (read an ebook week .TXT) 📕

might have assumed. Instead, it had something to do with astronomy. The Golden Hour, according to Theo’s information, was marked by the sun’s path, from six degrees above the horizon to six degrees below on this particular day—the Manhattan Solstice. Six because it was a powerful number. A sacred number, even, according to the men in the Order.

Maybe there was something to their beliefs, Cela thought as she watched the ships drifting in the distance. Six days for the good Lord to make the world, six points on the Star of David, and the devil himself loved the number so well he took it three times over.

The Order was depending upon the power of this false solstice, when the alignment of the sun would give their evil charms more power. Until the sun dipped below the horizon, the cargo would be untouchable. Literally untouchable, from what Theo told them.

Still, Cela thought this so-called Golden Hour was poorly named, especially since it wouldn’t even last a whole hour. Fifty-two minutes was all the time the Order would have to take advantage of. In that time, the boat had to dock, and their treasures had to travel through the city streets and arrive at the Order’s new quarters in the Flatiron Building. For those fifty-two minutes, some kind of strange magic would ensure their treasures would be safe. But if the wagons happened to be delayed, if they didn’t reach their destination before the end of those fifty-two minutes, the shipment would be vulnerable.

It was essential that those wagons were delayed.

In a city that had more traffic snarls than pigeons most days, it seemed an easy enough thing to accomplish. If a train happened to be late, if it happened to find itself held up on Death Avenue—maybe by an overturned cart, for instance—the wagon bearing the Order’s goods wouldn’t be able to take a direct route, straight across the island to reach the Flatiron Building. The wagons would have to be diverted around the chain of train cars and backed-up wagons, maybe for blocks in either direction.

With a little planning, the cluttered streets in the lower part of Manhattan would work in their favor. With a little luck, they would use Paul Kelly’s men and Nibsy Lorcan’s boys to divert the wagons and funnel them away from the Flatiron. If they could keep those wagons running until it was too late for the sun to provide its protection, it would be possible for Jianyu to relieve the Order of their treasures before either Paul Kelly or Nibsy Lorcan could get to them. The ring could be retrieved.

If they managed to cut the Order’s legs out from beneath them, maybe people would see that it was possible to rise up and topple the rich and the powerful. Maybe more things could change as well, and not only for Mageus.

Maybe. But Cela wasn’t counting any chickens, especially not before they’d even gathered the eggs. There were too many things that could go wrong. For one, they still didn’t know for sure where the ship would dock. For another, they were depending too much upon the capriciousness of traffic and luck.

It didn’t help that their planning had gone sideways a couple of days before. Somehow, Viola’s brother had found out about his sister’s trips to Harlem. He’d made demands, and then he’d made threats. Thank god, Viola had managed to warn them. It was a risk the Italian girl had taken, and one that Cela appreciated. She understood exactly how bad it was that Paul Kelly knew who she and Abel were. His Five Pointers had been causing trouble in the city for years, dangerous trouble. The kind of trouble that made people end up dead.

Cela might have understood why Viola and Jianyu had decided to use this Nibsy Lorcan fellow and try to play the two dangers off each other, but she still didn’t like it. Everything she’d heard about Nibsy made Cela think he wasn’t someone who could be easily duped or led. There was too much that could go wrong. For starters, Cela wasn’t sure whether Viola had actually been able to convince Nibsy that she was on his side—not when Viola’s eyes flashed with hate every time she heard his name. Cela also wasn’t sure that a fifteen-year-old orphan could neutralize the threat of Paul Kelly, as Jianyu was hoping he would, even if the boy had managed to betray an entire gang and kill their leader to take power.

She only hoped that with Nibsy and Paul Kelly involved, there would be others to take the blame if things went wrong. Because if she or Abel were caught by the Order? Even the threat of the Five Pointers didn’t worry Cela quite as much as what might happen if things went that wrong.

It was more than Cela’s and Abel’s lives at stake. Maybe Abel’s friends had decided to sit this one out, but Cela knew that nothing was ever that easy. If word got out that the two of them had been involved and public sentiment turned against them, it could also turn against every Negro in the city—exactly like it had two years before, during the riots that killed her father.

Cela saw something then, far off on the Hudson. A small steamer ship that had been sitting in the middle of the river started to turn toward the shore, and when she checked her watch again, she had a sense that this was the ship she was looking for. She couldn’t have been more certain if the ship had flown a banner declaring itself, but she watched a minute longer to be sure of the direction and the approximate location of the landing. When it was clear she’d been right, she tucked the spyglass under her arm and picked up the mirror.

Once the signal was given, it would be relayed along the rooftops, and their plan would be set in motion. Where the boat docked mattered, and the direction