“Where is she?” he ordered.
When he yanked open the door to the parlor, Magda bucked and sobbed. She could not do this. Not Eliška! Not the children!
The soldiers, who were ransacking the room, stopped to watch the altercation. Magda braced herself in the doorframe, and two recruits dropped what they were doing to grab either side of her. She kicked out her legs, finding the voice now to scream.
The policeman was now inches from her face. “Where is she?” he shouted. “Where is the daughter?”
“She came from upstairs,” one of the soldiers volunteered. “With the other man.”
All Magda managed, all her exhausted body managed as they dragged her into the hallway, was a stream of “No…no…no…”
When the first punch landed, her head snapped back at the same time as something popped and crunched. Blood spurted onto her assailant. Magda howled, her throat raw and on fire. She twisted and flailed again. The second blow connected with the left side of her face. She groaned, trying to regain her balance between the two men who held her. She was certain her eye was lost.
On the waves of pain, grief and fury ripped through her body. A kick to her shin. Her legs buckled beneath her. Go ahead. Let them kill her. Let them finish her here in the foyer. Anything to prevent her from going upstairs and revealing the children’s hiding place. The next kick landed a blow to her ribs.
“Stop!”
Walter. It was Walter’s order. Why now, Walter?
“Release her.”
She slumped onto all fours. They had dragged her as far as the bottom of the staircase. Through her one good eye, the tips of men’s boots swam before her. When a pair of brown ones appeared beneath her, she tried to lift her head but could not. Someone crouched down next to her and took her chin, angled her face so that she had to look at him.
Walter, his lips pressed together, made a regretful noise in the back of his throat. She tried to focus on the man next to him and met Aleš’s gaze. His face crumpled.
“Let Aleš and me do this for you,” Walter said gently. “Magdalena…”
“Don’t,” she gasped. Iron filled her mouth. “Don’t call me that.”
Walter ran a hand over his cap, leaving it cocked back. He released her head and rose. “Take me to her,” he said. But he was speaking to Aleš. “My men will find her, one way or another. It’s best you take me to her.”
“Walter,” Magda pleaded. Her voice sounded far away and thick. “Take me. Take me!”
“The mother,” Walter said slowly, “wants her child. Aleš? Take her to me now.”
Magda burned, hot as fire. Stepping past her, Aleš ascended the first step. Magda scrambled on all fours to crawl after him. She stretched out her hand, grasping and clawing until something brushed by. Her fingers snapped shut on the piece of fabric, and she clutched it, pulling it to her with all her remaining strength. It was a trouser cuff. She lifted her head further, the dizziness threatening to close out all light. Walter looked down at her over his shoulder.
From above, Aleš said mournfully, “I have to bring her to them. Magda, I have to go get Eliška.”
Magda’s breathing hitched. Understanding what Aleš meant—remembering that Walter had not been told of the Taubers’ happy news—she stared at the blurred figures above her.
Walter kicked his foot, barely missing her head. The cuff slipped from Magda’s fingers, and she slid to the bottom step. Torn, Magda wailed with relief for Samuel, and she wailed for the sacrifice Eliška would make.
Aleš reappeared too soon, carrying Eliška across his arms. Fast asleep, Magda’s darling finch lay limp, as if already dead.
Magda took the side roads around the old city walls to the castle gates, then through the park. She carried the bicycle down the stone steps to the road below. At the one-story cottage on Lidická Road, she knocked urgently. She pulled up at the sound of motors farther up the road. One truck after another appeared on the throughway, heading for the main square. Koenig’s orders. No delays. The searches would begin soon. There would be no time to help anyone else. Only—perhaps—those outside the gates. She had to hang on to her hope. What else was she doing this for?
When Eva opened the door, she took one look at Magda, and her expression became stony. “Right,” she nodded stiffly. “I’ll get my things.”
Magda waited outside, wishing she had a second bicycle. The clock tolled half past eight. She imagined Aleš, or someone, finding the gate ajar, unrolling the paper, and decoding her messages. VGP. Code for Proverbs 7:22.
Suddenly he went after her like an ox that goes to the slaughter, like a stag prancing into a trapper’s snare.
And Aleš would know Magda would come to them this night. He would also understand her reference to Nimrod, that Koenig had ordered a thorough search. Renata was already—Magda prayed—ahead of him, heading for the convent.
The midwife appeared in the doorway again, and they hurried back to the town’s gate. Beneath the castle, Magda studied the fortification above her and felt calm. Her fear was turning into something cold. Something dangerous.
Eva questioned what she was doing, and Magda caught up to her but did not answer.
At Villa Liška, Koenig met them in the foyer, crazed about the delay. Eva balked before catching Magda’s sternly set mouth. Eva muttered something about how she had just returned from another birth.
“Take her upstairs,” Koenig ordered Magda. He placed his cap on his head. “Ring the headquarters when it’s over.”
Magda led Eva to the second floor. In the bedroom, Frau Koenig was screaming. Eva placed a shaky hand on Magda’s and stopped Magda from turning the handle.
“I helped deliver two beautiful children in that room,” Eva
