Thomas raised a cautioning hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s one possible explanation, but by no means the most probable. It’s far more likely that we’re dealing with more mundane forces. An unusually harsh winter may simply be that. This so-called monster, if it exists at all, might be nothing more than a relic of a species thought extinct. A saber-toothed cat, perhaps, or a giant bear.”
I felt some of the tension go out of my shoulders. “The missing prospector might be an ordinary murder case.”
“Precisely. The only way to find out is to begin our investigation, and on that note…” He drew out his Patek Philippe. “Good heavens, it’s already half two. We’d best be getting on. May I leave you with this list, Wang? Miss Gallagher and I have another stop in the neighborhood.”
“Another stop?” I couldn’t think of any other business we had in Five Points, unless it was in …
“Chatham Square,” Thomas said. “We are in need of our wizard.”
* * *
Nikola Tesla was not technically a wizard. He was, however, an inventor of astonishing genius, who also happened to be the luckiest man alive, having inherited two separate strains of luck. One of these allowed him to manipulate electricity at will, shaping it as easily as Clara kneaded dough for her famous biscuits.
All of which I tried very hard to remember whenever it seemed as if we were about to explode.
“I say, Tesla, is that entirely safe?” Thomas took a step backward, his gaze fixed warily on the shimmering web of electricity that was presently weaving itself across the center of the lab. He’d have to take a few more steps to join me, since I was already pressed up against the back wall having a few discreet words with Our Lord and Savior.
“Please excuse me, Mr. Wiltshire,” the inventor replied, “I am concentrating.”
“Yes. Quite.” Thomas took another step back.
Mr. Tesla closed his eyes, his sharp features bathed in the eerie glow of his electric web. Before him, a hulking copper mushroom—the device he referred to as his “coil”—crackled with power. Tongues of lightning lashed out in all directions, some as thick as an arm, others as delicate as gossamer. Wild and terrifying, they were gradually being tamed, woven together into a sort of rope at a wave of the inventor’s hand. A gesture to his right plucked a strand from the nest; a sweep to his left guided it into place. He swayed a little with each movement, looking for all the world as though he were conducting a symphony orchestra. The more threads of electricity were joined together, the thicker the rope became and the brighter it grew, until I was forced to shut my eyes against the glare. Even then I could feel it—whispering along my skin, standing the hairs of my arms on end.
And then, without warning, it was over. The light faded, and I opened my eyes. The inventor stood in front of his coil looking annoyed—and decidedly luminescent.
“Tesla,” Thomas said. “You’re glowing.”
The inventor made a dismissive gesture, his long fingers tracing moonbeams through the shadows. “It will pass.” He threw a series of switches, silencing the machine and setting the room aglow with electric lighting. Then he heaved a frustrated sigh.
“What were you doing?” I asked, peeling myself away from the wall.
“I am attempting to develop electric forces on the order of those found in nature.”
“You mean like lightning?”
“Precisely.” His blue-gray eyes sparked like one of his oscillators, bright with enthusiasm. “If I can re-create lightning, the possibilities are almost limitless. We could power such machines as the mind can scarcely conceive. Even the very rains in the sky would be ours to command. But I fear I am a long way off. I cannot seem to keep the current stable. I thought perhaps if I…” The gleam in his eyes faded, and he sighed again. “Another time, perhaps. I’m sure you are in a terrible hurry, yes?”
Thomas smiled. “You know us too well.”
Waving us toward his little office in the corner, he said, “Tell me.”
“What do you know of portals?” Thomas asked.
“To the otherworld? A little. As you may recall, I once attempted to create one. That is how Scarlett came to me.” As soon as he spoke the name, a burst of red flame went up from his desk, and Mr. Tesla’s pet fireball sprang into the air. Scarlett hung there a moment, as if deciding whether Thomas and I were safe. Then she floated over to the inventor and settled on his shoulder. As always, I half expected to see his clothing catch fire, but of course it didn’t. The otherworldly flame ball wasn’t actually hot. For that matter, she wasn’t even really a flame. Nobody knew what she was or where she came from, and Mr. Tesla had given up trying to find out.
“Of course,” Thomas said, “how silly of me. In that case, you must have conducted all manner of experiments. Would any of that work be useful in trying to determine whether a portal is leaking?”
“Leaking?” Mr. Tesla considered that. “Yes, I have a device that would serve. You have used it yourself, in fact.” He gestured toward a humble-looking bit of machinery on his desk. About the size of a loaf of bread, it resembled a metal box with a cord attached to it, at the end of which was a probe that looked a little like the earpiece of a telephone.
I recognized it straightaway. “The luck detector?”
“Indeed. The miniature version I gave you last fall was not very powerful, but this larger apparatus is much more sensitive and has a greater range. You are welcome to take it. I have reverted to the theoretical phase of investigation on that particular project.” He tapped his head, which was where most of his investigating took place.
“That’s very kind of you,” I said. “But how does a luck detector help us with a portal?”
Mr. Tesla smiled patiently. “The intended purpose of a device does not represent the limit of its potential applications. The machine works by detecting the electromagnetic waves emitted when a person uses his luck. These waves can be distinguished from other forms of radiation by the specific frequencies at which they oscillate.”
“I remember. You explained that to us last time.” I hadn’t really understood the explanation, but that was another matter.
He gave a professorial nod. “Yes, good. Now, to understand how that relates to portals, we have only to recall that luck comes to us from the fae, traced back to ancient times when fae and mortals occasionally coupled.”
I remembered that too, and in its own way, it was even harder to grasp. What would it be like to know that one of your ancestors had a fling with a fairy? Or, in Mr. Tesla’s case, more than one of your ancestors?
“Therefore,” he went on, “if certain electromagnetic waves indicate the presence of luck, and luck is of the fae…”
“Then the fae would presumably give off the same type of radiation.” Thomas nodded. “I see. Meaning that if a portal to the realms of the fae were leaking, that radiation would be spilling out into our world.”
“Precisely. So…” The inventor indicated the tin box once more. “A luck detector, yes. But also a fae detector, and therefore a leaky portal detector.”
“Brilliant,” Thomas said. “It’s exactly what we need. But how shall we power it? Electricity will be in very short supply where we’re going.”