The Mayfair Estate consisted of a sprawling mansion centered on several acres of pristine wilderness, the building itself encircled by carefully cultivated gardens that were as useful as they were beautiful. After accepting the invitation and informing the Mayfairs that I would be attending with him, Maguire received instructions to be prepared for a carriage arriving to pick us up from the safehouse. They sent an incredibly ornate, surprisingly comfortable, horse-drawn carriage to collect us at 7 o’clock sharp, complete with a pot of their finest coffee and a tray of biscuits.

  We dined on those until we came within view of the estate itself. Then Maguire began to grow nervous as he took in the delicately crafted splendor that the Mayfairs prided themselves on. The road was paved perfectly smooth and the wrought iron fences that marked the edges of the drive were covered in colorful flowers and twisting vines. Again, the plants served many alchemical purposes, mostly of an aesthetic nature.

  “They wouldn’t want their guests wandering into anything harmful,” I commented.

  “No, that would certainly make a poor impression,” Maguire scoffed.

  “Indeed. Much better to have the deadly things where they can serve as a deterrent to any hopeful thieves who might be unaware as to who they are dealing with.”

  “I will keep that in mind if I ever decide to take a stroll about the grounds.”

  “Please do. I’d really rather not have to find a replacement.”

  The carriage finally reached the front entrance of the estate itself, a building so wide it consumed the horizon. A footman approached as the carriage came to a stop and helped both of us to exit, while another went to collect our bags. Some pleasantries were exchanged as we were quickly whisked into the parlor to meet two of the selection committee members. The others would be joining us shortly, or so we were informed.

  I sat back and let Maguire take the lead on the conversation, watching the way Hieronymus and Marguerite reacted and occasionally offering up my own insights and explanations into things. They were brother and sister, several years older than me, and from some of the references they made, I got the impression their expertise lay in the world of aerosol alchemical concoctions. Those had only recently become popular in the more general circles, though the wealthy had no doubt been using them for a while.

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  I made a note to see if I could sit in on any demonstrations. Who knows what tricks I could make from their work.

  The conversation shifted to Maguire’s interests and current projects and I paid a bit more attention to everyone’s body language. He did the same, choosing his words carefully and sticking to the generals, saving the finer details for later. We’d talked about the importance of not showing his whole hand on the first meeting and it was nice to see he took my words to heart.

  “Perhaps sometime later this week, you can give us a demonstration of your creation,” Marguerite said. “I have yet to have a chance to learn from an alchemist who grew up in the North Pole. I’d be interested in seeing how your upbringing has shaped your understanding of alchemy.”

  “I would be glad to share some of the tricks I learned up North, but I can only reveal so much. Many secrets are not mine to share,” he replied with equal politeness. I bit back a smile at the look on the alchemists’ faces when they realized their backhanded compliment wasn’t going to get the result they wanted. They would soon be reminded that the Jacks are not to be messed with lightly, even the new ones.

  Hieronymus and Marguerite exchanged a look that I couldn't quite read, then took an almost synchronized drink of tea. They were probably using the motion to cover their silence as they tried to find a good response or a way to segue into another area of conversation.

  They were interrupted by a frantic knocking that drew sharp looks to one of the well concealed servants entrances.

  “Enter,” Hieronymus said. A footman slipped into the room, keeping his gaze on the floor.

  “Apologies for my interruption, but your presence has been requested in the secondary workshop.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, cutting off any retribution. The boy looked up at me, surprised at the directness.

  “It seems that Genevieve’s work has either been misplaced or misappropriated and she is requesting assistance in solving the matter. She insists this is a matter of grave concern that must be deal with immediately.”

  “Our sincerest apologies,” Marguerite said. “It seems we have business to deal with.”

  “Perhaps my associate and I can provide assistance, being not officially affiliated with the Society but being friends in good standing,” I offered. Again, the two exchanged a look.

  “Very well. Your assistance is appreciated. Please, follow us.”