“You’ve got to be kidding! Paris is at least just on the other side of the Atlantic.”
Louise found the exhibition site and then a list of dates and cities that it expected to hit. “It’s coming to New York!”
“Oh, boy, is it ever.” Jillian tilted her tablet so show an article titled Secret Treasures Opening at American Museum of Natural History on June Fourteenth! Sign Petition Now! “This site is run by Earth for Humans, the same group that’s holding the protests against the expansion of the quarantine zone around Pittsburgh. The exhibit has their panties in a knot.”
“June fourteenth! That barely gives us any time. We need to save the babies before the end of June.”
The box had been given the name “Louvre morceau de bois” and careful noninvasive investigations had concluded that the box was solid Elfhome ironwood. The runes were being considered magical in nature, but so far the type of spell hadn’t been determined.
Jillian started to bounce in her seat. “Oh, Lou, this is so cool! They have no idea what it is! They don’t know it opens! The nactka are still inside.”
Louise shook her head, fighting the excitement. “We don’t know that.”
“Even if they identified the runes as a spell lock, the only way to open it is with the keywords. We have the password but they don’t, so they’re not going to get it open.”
“They could cut it open.”
“They think it’s a block of wood! Besides, they’re museum people. They preserve stuff, not smash it open to see what’s inside. What’s even better: they don’t know what’s in the box. We open it up, take everything out, and seal it again and they’ll never know we took anything.”
“Are you serious? Steal from a museum?”
“It belongs to us! The French might be all ‘finders, keepers,’ but they murdered Dufae. He wasn’t a French noble. He wasn’t even human! They killed him just the same. They have no right to this box.”
It all seemed morally clear until she imagined sneaking into the museum like a cat burglar, dressed all in black, to weave through laser-guided security systems and knock out guards. It got all weirdly murky ethicswise, but the idea was scary exciting. How would they knock out guards? Some kind of gas? Where would they get something like that? At their father’s clinic?
Louise found herself laughing with the giddy joy flooding her. They were going to be able to save their siblings! She struggled to contain her giggles; they had so much to do in so little time! “We need to find out everything we can on the American Museum of Natural History.”
16: Shattered
When had she become shy?
The next morning, Louise followed Jillian through Lexington Avenue Station trying to pinpoint some unnoticed moment in her life. With all the excitement over finding the chest, she hadn’t thought about her conversation with Iggy until they were weaving their way through the rush-hour commuters. It started as a hyperawareness of all the people around them and the knowledge that in a few short weeks they were going to be robbing one of the world’s largest museums. If people knew what they were planning, they would be staring in disbelief and dismay.
Luckily no one could probably guess, not even given all the time in the world and several broad hints.
So why did Louise feel like cringing every time someone noticed them? They had no hope but to stand out. Jillian had decreed they would wear matching outfits to help pull off switching the real magic generator with a fake they’d printed at home. Jillian had chosen their cutest dresses that made grown woman start talking in abnormally high voices. (“Oh, just look at you! Aren’t you just so cute!” This wouldn’t be so worrisome if it wasn’t the same voice that women used with puppies.) Then there was Tesla, who really was quite massive beside them and at first glance looked real. He wore a big bow about his neck that matched their outfits. (Their excuse if people wondered why they hadn’t left him at their locker was that they wanted to show off the bow.) Jillian sported a huge grin and was skipping with excitement.
Really, the only reason they were being ignored at all was because it was New York City at rush hour.
Once upon a time, the attention didn’t bother Louise. Or to be more specific, it never even occurred to her to notice that she was drawing attention. Looking at her was something people did to see what was in front of them; it was how they kept from stepping on her. She hadn’t been afraid that people would judge her on what they saw.
Was it simply that she had been too young to realize people formed opinions of others? Did the strangers only become frightening when she realized that they might be thinking negative thoughts? And was Iggy right, that the only reason strangers thought Jillian was the pretty one was because Jillian purposely did the “cute act” even as she was doing now? Everyone who noticed the two little identical girls with the big robotic dog would gaze longest at Jillian. She was the one smiling and skipping, whereas Louise probably looked vaguely uncomfortable. Jillian rewarded the strangers with an even bigger grin. Most would end up smiling back, charmed as usual.
Of course in the past, Louise would think the person saw her as less cute, less charming, and she would probably end up looking even more uncomfortable. It was an endless loop. But really, the people smiling at Jillian were probably only thinking about catching their connecting train, getting to work, and whatever difficulties lay ahead of them. Louise had been imagining monsters that didn’t exist.
What started the loop? She had been running the cycle since before they started first grade. Their class photos from that year show Jillian smiling and Louise looking like she wished to be anywhere except in front of the camera. All their early photos, though, she had smiled happily. Kindergarten, then?
It had been an unsettling year. Since they hadn’t attended preschool, the limit of their exposure to other kids had been chance meetings at public parks. Up to kindergarten, other children seemed like very clever puppies. They were something fun to play with but prone to peeing unexpectedly and occasionally biting. If those toddlers could actually talk, the discussions had only been about ownership of supposedly communal property. They barked words like “mine” and “gimme.” Louise could remember vividly that she had been told that she was a girl and that the children they saw most often at the park were boys, and she had come to the conclusion that they were totally separate species, on par with monkeys and people. It was the only way to account for the difference in communication and cooperative play.
When they were four, they started kindergarten. The other children were a lot more verbal, but what they said was rarely nice. There was one girl whose favorite retort was “You’re a ugly face.”
Was that it? Did somehow that nasty little catchphrase dig in and bury itself deep in Louise’s psyche? Or had it been just part of an onslaught that they suffered for being different? They were the only twins. They were the youngest and smallest. And most importantly, they already knew everything. Their mother had spent the first three years of their life attending an online university while being a stay-home mom. It had given the twins access (accidental at first) to classes from basic math to advanced physics. What they hadn’t known was that no one liked a know-it-all. Not even teachers.
Group dynamics had led to a full-out quiet war against them, where the weapons were pointed looks and harsh words. Since no one could call them stupid, everything else was fair game. A new school had promised a restart with a clean slate, but by then the twins were battered and scarred. No one, not even Elle, had been outwardly mean, but that hadn’t stopped the twins from expecting a new attack.