of usâÂforget about everything and have fun together like we did when we were young. I figured he was just being fey, you know? Forgetting I had all this work to do in post. So I was kind of short with him.â
âAnd this is a big deal?â
âJohnny isnât other fey. He doesnât just take off on a whim. I should have realized something was wrong. If Iâd listened to him, he would have trusted me enough to tell me what was going on.â
âI hardly think that makes it your fault,â I cut in, earning myself a sharp look from Teo. I leaned back into the couch with a sigh.
âSo you think he went on some sort of a . . . vacation?â said Teo dubiously. âOn his own?â
âIt sounded like he needed an escape,â said Berenbaum. âBut I didnât bother to stop and ask myself what someone like Johnny would want to escape from.â
âThatâs not our business,â said Teo. âOur business is getting him back to Arcadia. You know him better than anyone; where would he go?â
Berenbaum steepled his hands in front of his mouth, tapping his fingertips together as his eyes took on a distant expression. The silence stretched out long enough that I shot Teo a nervous look. Teo gave a staccato shrug, seeming generally impatient with the whole business.
âA spa resort,â Berenbaum said. âWinningham Grove or Regazo de Lujo maybe. Something inside the Project periÂmeter, with orange trees. Somewhere weâve been before. Maybe Elysienne. Check for him at places like that. Under all his old names, too.â
Teo nodded, scribbling on a memo pad, then glanced at me. âHe canât make up new aliases,â he said in a teachery voice, âbecause fey canât lie. Not with words anyway. Our languages are foreign to them on a really deep arcane level, so they canât use them to create anything. We have to invent their human names. Rivenholtâs been coming here so long the Project has to keep giving him new names and faces every decade or so to hide the fact that he doesnât age.â
âHuh,â I said stupidly.
Teo turned back to Berenbaum. âDo you know any reason why Inaya West would be trying to get in touch with him?â
Berenbaum frowned. âThey worked together on Accolade afew years back, but they donât really socialize. I try to minimize Johnnyâs contact with people who arenât hip to the Arcadia thing.â
âWe intercepted a couple of messages from her meant for him. She seemed to want to talk to him about something, and she said you werenât returning her calls either.â
Berenbaum gave an odd little snort. âShe hasnât called me in days,â he said. âOr maybe Araceli has been aggressively screening my calls since Iâm behind schedule.â
My eyes drifted over to the signed poster for Red Cotton . I wondered if seven-year-old Inayaâs scrawl was somewhere under the glass. She had never so much as been in a school Christmas pageant when Berenbaum found her chatting up a snow goose in New Orleans City Park and directed her straight to her first Oscar nomination.
âDonât worry about âNaya,â he said. âIâll give her a call later on today and find out whatâs going on from her end.â
âAll right,â said Teo, rising. âCall us right away if you get any new information.â
âYou do the same,â said Berenbaum, moving forward to give Teoâs hand a brisk shake. âIâll tell Araceli to put you guys through no matter what.â
Teo was already halfway out the door by the time I Âmanaged to get off the insidiously pliant couch and back to my feet. Berenbaum reached for my hand more gently than he had Teoâs, and his eyes did a quick circuit over my face that made me feel as though he had just scanned the deepest contents of my psyche. He spoke quietly,