She shook her head resignedly. “All right.”
He got to his feet and stuffed the money into his pocket. “I’d better get going,” he said, looking out through one of the round windows. “It’s late afternoon, and the stores will start closing.”
“How long do you think it will take?” she asked anxiously, standing up too.
“Maybe an hour. It may get dark while I’m gone. I’ll try to buy candles,” he added, looking around the bare room. Sophia followed him down the spiral staircase to the first floor and then watched him scurry down the trunk of the tree. “Back soon,” he called up quietly. She watched him go.
Then she righted the two chairs near the staircase, placing them on either side of the wooden table. Sitting down heavily, she rested her chin in her hand and looked out over the room.
It was not that she disbelieved Theo—not anymore. She knew he planned to return. But any number of things could happen to prevent him from making his way back to the house in the rotting tree. The guards might see him; someone might ask about his hand and find his answer unsatisfactory; the raider from the market might stumble across him again. She sat, and the sky darkened, the time stretching out interminably. What would happen if Theo did not return? The dusk would turn to night, and the whole city would fall asleep, and she would remain in the tree house, waiting. Then the sky would lighten and the day would arrive, and she would have to venture back into the heart of the city and find a way to get past the guards at Mazapán’s shop. The very thought of it made her stomach sink. And if she could not get through? All of her money was gone. Even if she could leave the city unseen, she would have no way to buy food, and she would have to walk all the long way to Veracruz to seek help from the crew of the Swan. If by some miracle she made it, how would she get back to New Occident? It was nearly July 4; after that, with the borders’ closure and the inevitable lines at each entry point, it would be much harder. What if she ended up outside New Occident’s borders, stranded? I’ll never make it, she thought. I might as well go turn myself in at the palace.
She checked her watch; Theo had been gone more than two hours. This is stupid, she realized. I’m not making anything better by sitting here agonizing. I need something to do.
Steeling herself, she opened her pack and took out the maps. She had left the glass map awake, and now she read the maps once, twice, and then a third time. She lingered over the strange apparition that appeared at the end of the memories: a figure holding a shining beacon in its hand as it ran toward her. Each time, it seemed to grow more familiar. I’ll read the maps again, she thought, And this time I’ll know who it is. But nothing changed beyond the unnerving sense of familiarity. Sighing, she put the maps aside. There was something about them . . . It was almost as if they were meant for her—that their meaning lay within her grasp. But something was still missing.
Then she opened her notebook, and in the dying light of sunset she drew aimlessly, letting her pencil wander. She found herself tracing the outlines of a familiar face: there was Theo, smiling slyly from the center of the page, almost about to wink. She realized with surprise that it was a fair resemblance. It did not quite capture him, but the likeness was recognizable—far more so than her first attempt after seeing him at the wharf. She flipped back in her sketchbook and compared the two. The haughty boy she had drawn then was entirely unlike the one she had come to know. Ehrlach disguised him with feathers, Sophia thought, and I disguised him with my own idea of what I wanted him to be.
“Is that me?”
Sophia turned with a start and saw Theo himself, his arms heavily laden, standing in the semi-darkness. “You’re back!” she exclaimed, flooded with relief. “You frightened me. I didn’t hear you come up.”
He laughed and dropped the bundles on the table. “I didn’t sneak up on you, honestly. The whole palace guard could have tramped up here and you wouldn’t have heard them.”
“I’m so glad you’re back.”
“I took a long time, I’m sorry,” Theo said, and it was clear he meant it. “But look at everything I got.” He rummaged through one of the packages and pulled out a bundle of white candles. He lit one, dripped wax on the wooden table, and planted the candle there.
“Did anyone see you?”
“I only saw one guard the whole time, and he didn’t notice me,” Theo said smugly. “I stayed out of the center—got everything in stores farther out. Look at this,” he said, pulling out a sage-green cloth that glimmered as if powdered with gold.
Sophia gasped. “It’s beautiful—what is it?”
“A long veil. You can just wear it over your head—I’ll show you. No one will see your face. And I got you this,” he went on, pulling out a pale green gown with slender straps made of vine. “It’s probably a little big, so you can use this to adjust it.” He showed her a small wooden box with an inlaid design and opened it to reveal a packet of bone needles, a tiny pair of scissors fashioned of obsidian and wood, and four diminutive spools of thread.
“Theo,” Sophia breathed. “These things are so beautiful. Did the money I had really buy all this?”
“I kept most of the money. We need it for food, anyway.”
It took her a moment to understand. “You stole these things,” she finally said.
Theo looked back at her, his dark eyes serious in the feeble light of the candle. “Of course I did. I had to. Why do you think I went alone? The money wouldn’t have bought us more than a couple pairs of socks. Do you want to get into the palace or not?”
“I should have known.”
“Come on. I had to steal these things. We weren’t going to get in all dirty, dressed like beggars. There was no choice.”
“You could have just said so,” she snapped. “You could have just said the money wasn’t enough and you had to go alone because you were going to steal it.”
“Well, I didn’t lie,” Theo replied heatedly. “I didn’t say the money was enough, and all the reasons I gave for going alone were true. I don’t lie to you.”
“But if you leave out the truth, it’s the same as lying!”
“It was just easier not to explain. You would have argued with me, and I needed to get these things before dark. Come on, let me show you the rest of the stuff. It’s great,” Theo said in a placating tone.
“All right,” Sophia said tightly.
“This is for me,” he said. He opened a bulky package and drew out a long black velvet cloak. “Plus some new bandages. And, as much as I hate feathers, that’s pretty much all there is for masks. I got these to match, to hide my hand.” He showed her a mask covered with brilliant blue plumage, and the gauntlets that would conceal the cotton gauze.
“It’s all perfect,” Sophia said dispiritedly. “Everything you got.”
Theo sat and looked at her across the table. “Don’t be mad.”
“I just don’t understand why you have to lie about everything.”
“It’s just—I don’t know. It’s so much easier than explaining every little thing.” He turned the mask over in his hands.
“But you lie about things that aren’t little. Like what happened to your parents.”
“Well, yeah. I don’t like being pinned down.”
“Pinned down?”
“You know what I mean. If you tell someone everything, it’s like putting yourself right in their hands. If you lie, you keep the options open—nobody ever has the whole picture of you.”