“Fanatics,” mumbled the senior officer. “Nobody believes in letting people alone nowadays.”

  “I do,” said Alvin. “Which is why Vaughan got no worse than embarrassed.”

  The desk clerk chimed in. “If he’s that Alvin Miller, he can break a man’s bones from a hundred yards away. Or just stop his heart. Or constipate him till he chokes on his own—”

  Alvin shook the desk constable’s hand, not taking possession of it. “Young man, if you find your assignment here tedious and unrewarding, and if you have a knack you’ve been hiding from everybody here, just come on with us. Crystal City needs honest young men.”

  “I got no knack at all, sir,” said the desk constable.

  “He farts violets and roses,” said another constable. “He thinks we don’t notice, but he dribbles petals everywhere.”

  The desk constable rolled his eyes.

  “Peter Young,” said Alvin, “I still think you’re an honest young man. Come with us if you want. Preferably without your pants full of flower petals.”

  Alvin touched his forehead in a little salute, and left the Constabulary Post.

  John Binder, who had been watching from the open door, walked beside him now, and said, “What’s your plan here?”

  “I had to see how many of them hated knacks, and how much.”

  “You think that one loudmouth is the only one?”

  “I know who all the anti-knackists are in this station, but the captain isn’t one of them. He’ll keep them in line, because he knows now that if he doesn’t, I will.”

  Binder nodded. “Got it.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Like we planned. Near the railroad, in four inns, one to a ship’s complement, and one from the little boats.”

  “Do you know which one Eliza Nutbutter is lodging in?”

  “Yes,” said Binder. “But you shouldn’t.”

  “I need to meet with her. To talk quietly at a private table.”

  “Only one of the inns has private tables, and she isn’t in that one.”

  “Good,” said Alvin. “Nobody can say they saw me go to her inn.”

  “I’ll bring her to you.”

  * * *

  Eliza walked calmly into the common room—sauntered, really—and scanned the room. She spotted Alvin at his table. He did not watch her walk over, sure that, knowing Eliza, she would put on a show of being a woman with only one thing on her mind. Better not to be seen looking at her.

  She slid onto a chair opposite, not beside Alvin. And Alvin so far forgot his courtesy that he did not rise for the woman who was sleeping with five or so men in Crystal City, including Calvin.

  She smiled at him. “You asked me to come.”

  Alvin finally looked at her. Yes, pretty indeed, bosom a tiny bit—just a tiny bit—showing rounded above her neckline. A little frightened, because she had thought he would be her target, and now he was acting like a man who wanted to assert control. She knew the type and avoided them.

  “You attract attention when you want to,” said Alvin.

  “Not yours,” said Eliza.

  “No, not just that,” said Alvin. “You have a power about you, a presence that captures the room, as if you had rung a gong.”

  “Not sure what a gong is,” she said.

  “You know exactly what a gong is,” said Alvin. “You ring it whenever you want, and everybody pays attention, waiting to see what you’re going to do. Or say. Or command.”

  “Alvin, sir,” said Eliza sweetly, “I do believe you’re describing yourself.”

  “Without the prettiness, I certainly am. I need to get this whole company to Crystal City. You know the way.”

  “By train.”

  Alvin just looked at her.

  “It’ll cost a fortune.”

  “You can pay for the passages easily out of what’s in your fuligin purse,” said Alvin.

  Her hand reached involuntarily for her neckline.

  “I already knew where you keep it,” said Alvin. “First place a highwayman would look, by the way, because for such a man, the looking is worth more than the finding. Well, not more than the amount you’re carrying.

  “Why are you talking so clearly?”

  “So that you’ll understand my words,” said Alvin.

  “And so will every pickpocket in the room.”

  “I would appreciate your help,” said Alvin.

  “Paying everybody’s passage on the train?” she asked.

  “You could afford it, but I won’t extort any money from you. I’ll buy all the passages. You provide me with a list of all the Irish folk in these inns, all the ones wanting to go to Crystal City. There are some without knacks who won’t want to go all the way to Crystal City when the best-paying jobs are here. Make sure they know that going west is optional, but the safest course. Group them as families. Include on your list the ages of everybody unmarried who looks to be under thirty years of age.”

  “I see why you didn’t want to do it. You don’t like being slapped.”

  “They will listen to you. They’ll carry out your orders.”

  “Why am I now suddenly your unpaid clerk?”

  “First, I know perfectly well that whenever any money passes through your hands, you keep a small portion to make it worth your time. So you are not an unpaid clerk. Second, I need a new, full census of the group, to replace the one that was made before we left Ireland.”

  “To keep my hands occupied with counting people instead of money?”

  “So I’ll know if anybody is kidnapped.”

  Eliza laughed. But Alvin didn’t.

  “Is there any actual danger of that?” Eliza asked.

  “Watch the children especially, boys as well as girls. Have their parents keep them together. With rope or ribbons, but together at all times.”

  “I’ve never given orders to a living soul.”

  “Then this will be a delightful new experience for you.”

  “New. Experience. But I sincerely doubt that I’ll be delighted. Nor will anyone else.”

  “I will,” said Alvin. “Here is my standard of success. If everybody on that list is present in Crystal City, alive, when I get there, then you will have earned your pay.”

  “It’s demeaning to have to take my pay through embezzlement.”

  “But it’s what you always do.”

  “Not officially. Make me an offer.”

  “Keep a tally of what you steal from me, and when I get to Crystal City, I’ll see if I can afford to pay you more than you already took.”

  She squinted her eyes. “Is this all to punish me for making the beast with two backs with your precious little brother?”

  “Isn’t he completely my equal as a Maker?”

  “I’ve seen no evidence.”

  “He has many gifts, and they’re getting better. Keep him away from your reproductive system—I mean with his knack. He has at best a feeble understanding of anatomy.”

  “He wouldn’t dare,” said Eliza.

  “He hasn’t opened any doors you didn’t open to him.”

  “How do you know so much?”

  “I don’t have my wife’s incredibly powerful knack with heartfires, but I can look into people quite near to me, and see some or much of their immediate future and immediate past.”

  “So you’ve watched me and Calvin—”

  “I don’t watch such scenes,” said Alvin. “Your modesty is pretty near intact with me.”

  “‘Pretty near.’”

  “You’re near, and you’re pretty.”

  “Do you really think I am?”

  “The whole world speaks your praise,” said Alvin.

  “And quite a few other things under their breath.”

  “Will you lead my people home?”

  She cocked her head—saucily, not coyly. “You’re not much of a Moses if you don’t go yourself.”

  “People from the press, a detective agency, and several people with a New England agenda are following me constantly. If I separate from the main group, you may be much less bothered by such gnats and weasels.”

  “Without you to protect us—”

  “Oh, Eliza. Be serious. All you have to do is persuade yourself that you’re escaping from Philadelphia—”

  “By train—”

  “Fastest way out of town. And your destination in this escape of yours is Crystal City, where you already have a home and several paramours, some of whom actually love you.”

  That distracted her a little. “Is Calvin one of them?” asked Eliza.

  “Sometimes he thinks so. Sometimes you think so. That’s better than many couples do.”

  “And am I in love with Calvin?”

  “You have never been in love with anyone, Eliza. Not yourself, none of your lovers, and I can’t see deeply enough to know if you loved anyone in your family.”

  “I still have some secrets?”

  “Till Margaret sees you next.”

  “She promised that she’d never spy on me.”

  “She doesn’t think of it as spying. It’s … getting acquainted.”

  “How can I shield myself from her?”

  “If you find a way, let me know. Every now and then I’d like to be able to surprise her with something.”

  A server came to them and Alvin graciously paid for Eliza’s evening stew. And her beer. There were German immigrants bringing a better grade of beer than anyone brewed in America. This inn was stocking some of the best of it.

  When the server had left with their order, Eliza said, “Don’t read anything into this.” To which Alvin immediately replied, “That is definitely a command for me to read a lot into what you say next.”

  “As you please,” said Eliza. “I have had my eyes on you, but not for a moment did I think you had your eyes on me.”

  “Why would I gaze at you more than my first few glances? Once I knew who you were, I conceived of a use for you.”

  “All men do.”

  “The use that I’ve just proposed. Leading my people west to my city.”

  “While you do what?”

  “Visit family and friends in Vigor Church.”

  “A side trip? I’d like to come.”

  “I’m not letting you anywhere near my older brothers.”

  “I was thinking of your father.”

  Alvin shook his head mildly. “Do we have a deal?” he asked.

  “I lead these Irish to Crystal City and help them get settled in?”

  “Margaret will help you. And many other women and men. It’s a large influx of new citizens all at once, but we can handle it.”

  “Feed them?”

  “Margaret has doubtless counted all the heartfires, and is laying in provisions and vittles for them all.”

  “Why aren’t you having Margaret lead them from here to Crystal City?”

  “She isn’t here,” said Alvin,

  Her eyes brightened and she touched his arm. “Exactly the point I’ve been trying to make,” said Eliza.

  With this innuendo about her ambition of seducing Alvin into adultery, she felt a sudden desperate need to breathe. She panted, but it didn’t satisfy her. She coughed. She drank some beer out of the mug of a man at another table.

  Then, suddenly, she could breathe.

  She had always been able to breathe, during the whole thing, nothing obstructed her airways. And yet she had been tortured at the lack of air. Though her lungs were full.

  “So you threaten to kill me?”

  “At no time were you in any physical danger,” said Alvin. “I picked this up a few years ago. Your body doesn’t tell you to breathe when you run out of good air. It tells you to breathe when you build up too much bad air. It builds up until you breathe it out. If you can’t get rid of it, you think you’re going to die, see?”

  “Did you think that was funny?”

  He looked her right in the eye. “Not at all,” he said. “But it will sound funny later, when I tell Measure and Margaret.”

  She reached out to slap him. He didn’t move. Her hand simply didn’t connect with his cheek.

  “I really don’t like being slapped,” Alvin said.

  “And I don’t like feeling asphyxiated.”

  “Then don’t ever, ever think of seducing me again.”

  “I couldn’t anyway,” she said.

  “You could make any man you wished for discover a strong desire for you.”

  “Except you.”

  “Let’s not try to get around that exception, ever again.”

  “Or I suffocate with lungs full of air.”

  “It’s a lonely, desperate death,” said Alvin. “One I wouldn’t wish on anybody.”

  “You’ve never killed anyone that way?” she asked.

  “You had plenty of good air the whole time.”

  “I think you are the devil, Alvin Smith.”

  “You’re just jealous, because you wanted to be the wickedest person in Crystal City.”

  Eliza perked her head. “They’re calling the all-aboard. That means that—”

  “I’ve traveled by train before, Miss Eliza.”

  “You haven’t ridden everything yet.” Then she flounced away before he could catch her double entendre. If he ever did. He was so sweet and naive. But the asphyxiation had been terrifying. She would have nightmares about that. She must never provoke him in that way again.

  Except flirting and innuendos were such a habit. She was bound to forget and he’d make her go through this whole thing once more.

  He thinks of me as a leader. He’s going to go off and leave me in charge, instead of John Binder or Father Luke, or—well, Measure, obviously. Why not his brother Measure?

  Oh, it was Measure’s family, too. They both wanted to visit home.

  She could see two routes through this whole thing. She could make a big show of being boss of the Irish, but actually do a wretched job. Everybody would resent her. Then she could laugh at Alvin and say, “I told you, it’s not my knack.” Trying to fail makes failure your standard of success.

  Or she could try her best to be a mild but firm leader of the group, listening to wise counsel and trying to build consensus. She knew how it was done. She’d seen it done several times. It had simply never crossed her mind that it was a skill she ought to develop. But now if she failed, it would be a real failure, not accomplishing something she really wanted to do.

  Calvin wasn’t really in love with her. Even there she was a failure. And she would fail at leading hungry terrified Irishfolk. And when she finally got to the Mizzippy, Crystal City wouldn’t be there. She would have to get them all back on the train and go back to where she had taken the wrong train and catch the right one. If there was a right one.

  This is what played through her mind all night. And yet she awoke feeling rested and alert. Ready for a difficult day of thinking about what other people wanted and what other people felt.

  24

  “I DON’T HAVE to be an experienced pilot for this stretch of the Mizzippy to get you safely upstream,” said Calvin.

  “Ever since that Red Prophet put a curse of fog on the river, ain’t no Mizzippy pilots no more.”

  “Wouldn’t matter if there were,” said Calvin. He almost corrected himself to “if there was,” but right now pretending to be “just folks” wouldn’t put him in good stead. “I haven’t memorized a stretch of river, going up and down it fifty times. I can see, first time through, whether there’s a sandbar or rock or island.”

  “Through the fog.”

  “My knack doesn’t care about no fog,” said Calvin. “Test me if you want. All I know is you folks put on a jim-dandy show, and the people of Crystal City are starving for shows.”

  “You got all them knacks in Crystal City,” said the captain with a smirk. “Why don’t you all knack yourselves up a show?”

  “Is there a knack for putting on shows?” asked Calvin.

  “How would I know?”

  “Do you have such a knack?” asked Calvin.

  “I got me no knacks!” said the captain vehemently. “I’m a Christian!”

  “You the kind of Christian who looks to murder anybody who has a knack?” Calvin kept his voice calm and maybe even a little cheerful.

  “That kind ain’t Christian,” said the captain. “And I don’t kill folks, unless they die laughing from a comedy.”

  “How many shows can your company put on in a row?” asked Calvin.

  Horatio Hubert Hubbard, the captain of the ship—and, apparently, head of the HHH theatrical company—got a suspicious squint in his eye. “How many other people have you pitched this proposal to?” he asked.

  “None,” said Calvin.

  “None that said yes, anyway,” Hubbard scoffed.

  “None,” said Calvin. “Because their steamboats all run by burning wood or coal as fuel. I am of the opinion that the Red Prophet’s curse is to keep fuel-burning machinery off the Mizzippy.”

  “Our boat runs on machinery. Didn’t you see our paddlewheel?”

  “I know how it works, and your only fuel is human sweat.” Calvin put his open hands flat on the table. “I’m not going to copy your design and go into competition with you.”

  Hubbard looked a little bit relieved, but still doubtful. “Says you.”

  “Says me. Test me. Cover my eyes, put me behind a wall, and see if I can’t warn you before you step on anything or bump into anything. Try me.”

  By now the grizzled showboat captain was intrigued. “You’ve got such a line of patter,” he said.

  “I’m not selling anything, to you or anybody,” said Calvin, wearing his most honest face and detecting easily that Hubbard was halfway to believing him. “It’s my knack.”

  Hubbard rolled his eyes. “Wish I had a greenback for everybody who’s bragged on his knack.”

  “If it’s no more than brag, you’ll find it out. But keep this in mind. My name is Calvin Miller. My older brother was seventh son of a seventh son. But then the oldest son in the family died, so when I was born I was also a seventh son.”

  “Calvin,” said the captain. “Rhymes with Alvin.”

  “Could have been worse. They’re Bible-readers and they could have named me Achitophel or Jehoshaphat.”

  “You could lose teeth trying to pronounce those names.”