The Impossible Cube

lion tamer extraordinaire. Who are you?”

“Lieutenant Ovrille of the Grand Ducal Police,” he said. “Come down immediately! We are searching the wagon!”

“If you like,” Alice called back. “But the lion, he will not be happy.”

Ovrille paused. “What lion?”

“The cage, it has broken, you see. That is why we are using this wagon. The lion, he is up top, and I have no leash or cage right now, and it is far past his mealtime. He is quite hungry. Fortunately, he does not feel women are a threat, no?”

The other officer, the one with the torch, looked uncertain. “Sir—,” he said.

“Our orders are clear,” Ovrille said stubbornly. “We are to search everything even remotely suspicious.”

“Yes, yes,” Alice called. “Please come up, then. But make no sudden moves, especially if you ate meat for supper. I do not know how much longer I can keep him quiet.” She changed her tone of voice, as if she were speaking to a child. “Can I, baby? No, I cannot. I just cannot keep ums quiet!”

Ovrille dismounted and reached for the rope ladder hanging over the side of the airship. Alice gestured sharply at Gavin, who fumbled with the nightingale and finally managed to press its right eye. It opened its beak and the lion’s roar from the previous evening’s parade snarled through the night, a little quiet but realistic enough. Ovrille froze.

“No, no, no,” Alice cooed loudly. “It is all right, little one. The man is not here to hurt you. He is not for you to bite. You must sit quietly and let him—”

Gavin pressed the nightingale again, and it played the roar a second time. Ovrille snatched his hand away from the ladder as if the rungs were hot pokers. The officer with the torch backed his horse away, as did the man who had gone to the opposite side of the airship.

“What are you doing?” Alice said. “I believe I have him under control. Come up now before he again becomes angry.”

Another roar. Ovrille went back to his horse. “Yes, well,” he said. “I think we can let it go this time.”

“Are you sure?” Alice said. “We would not wish for you to get into trouble. If you let him lick your hand first, he probably won’t bite.”

“Just go,” Ovrille ordered.

“Huh. As you wish, then.”

Nathan tapped the horses, which jerked forward, and the airship creaked along the tracks. Once the officers were out of sight, Alice blew out a long breath. Every muscle went limp and she collapsed to the deck.

“I never want to do that again,” she half sobbed, half giggled.

“You thought it was bad for you.” Gavin sank to the deck beside her. “I had no idea what you were saying and had to guess about making the nightingale roar.”

“Good that you’re intelligent, then.”

There was a long pause. Alice wanted to say something more, except words wouldn’t come. The anger curled around her heart like a dozing tiger and held everything in. Alice envied Gavin’s easy way with words, how he could say whatever was on his mind.

After a while, Gavin brought his cupped hands with the nightingale in them to his face. When he brought them down again, he tossed the nightingale into the air. It spread its wings and fluttered about for a moment, then flitted over to settle on Alice’s shoulder. Alice knew that the nightingale, meant to carry recorded messages, would fly back and forth between the last two people who had touched it. The moment it landed, the little bird sang in Gavin’s voice.

I picked a rose, the rose picked me,

Underneath the branches of the forest tree.

The moon picked you from all the rest

For I loved you best.

Alice closed her eyes at the beauty that surrounded her but still couldn’t respond.

“Most people think,” Gavin said, “that if the melody of a song is written in a minor key, the accompaniment or counterpoint has to be played in a minor key, too. But that’s not right. The counterpoint can be the major fifth chord, if you leave out the mediant, the one note that clashes.”

She made a small, noncommittal noise. Ahead of them, the tracks stretched through the city, turning neither right nor left, taking the airship down its predetermined path.

“I’ve never been in love before, Alice,” he continued. “And I’ve never been a clockworker. So I don’t know what all this means. I can only play the music fate hands me. When I sing, all my songs tell me that I want to be with you. If you don’t want to be with me, just say so.”

Suddenly she couldn’t bear it any longer. She sat up and grabbed his hand. His fingers were strong. The nightingale hopped back to his shoulder. “I hate the plague. I hate what it’s doing to you. To us. I don’t want to let you go. I can’t let you go. But I’m frightened of what the plague might do.”

“So am I,” he said quietly. “It steals memory from me, and it steals time from us. We have to get to China and find a cure.”

“What if there is no cure, Gavin?” she asked suddenly. “What if the Dragon Men can’t do anything, or they just won’t, or we can’t find a cure in time?”

He squeezed her hand. “Alice, the plague might be able to steal my sanity, but it can’t steal love. No matter how insane I go, there will always be a part of me that loves you.”