After the War: A Novella of the Golden City by J. Kathleen Cheney

Serafina’s location, it’s in that direction.”
    “And combined with Rafael’s encountering a fairy seeming there this morning, I suspect that’s where our half-fairy is.”
    Alejandro wondered if he’d missed something or if he was just drunk. “A fairy seeming?”
    “It looked like a spell circle, so someone sent for the Special Police. That’s what Rafael was off doing while you were with Markovich this morning. It was a diversion, I suspect, or a way to see who would respond.”
    Alejandro shook his head. He’d wanted to talk to Rafael, but he hadn’t been at the police station. Had that only been this morning?
    “The seeming was already fading away by the time Rafael got there, but he had a feeling about that place,” Joaquim went on. “He’s currently gathering up Markovich. They’ll meet us there.”
    Alejandro hoped he didn’t cast up his lunch on the way. Between what Markovich had done to him, the coach’s rattling over the cobbles, too much wine on an empty stomach
—
and worry
—
he was queasy. What was happening to his wife right now? Had Phillips hurt her? He pressed the back of his fist to his mouth.
    “Have faith,” Gaspar said. “He needs her to negotiate for the stones.”
    “I don’t have his damned diamonds,” Alejandro pointed out. “And I don’t have any idea how to get them back.”
    “You mailed them to the Holy Sisters,” Miguel said, eyes squinted shut. “In . . . some town that had beer.”
    “Every town has beer,” Gaspar said.
    Joaquim turned a sharp gaze on Miguel. “Is that in the version you read, Miguel?”
    Miguel was thinking hard, mouth pressed into a grim line. “João gave them to the mail-girl to post, then warned her to leave Armentières immediately because the Germans were about to invade. She wrote the address on the package because João didn’t know it . . .”
    João was the name of the main character in that story, Alejandro recalled. The name he’d taken after leaving France.
    “Popper . . . something . . . was the name of the town,” Miguel added.
    “Poperinge?” Gaspar asked.
    “That’s it,” Miguel said and snapped his fingers. “The Church of Saint John, for the war orphans.”
    An orphanage . He’d sent the diamonds to a church orphanage.
    Alejandro crossed himself as a thousand pounds of guilt lifted from his shoulders. It didn’t help him to get Serafina back, but he silently begged God to be merciful because Old Alejandro had tried to make something good out of a bad situation.
    Did I know before that Serafina would be taken as a result of my actions? That she would be endangered? Surely if he’d foreknown that, Old Alejandro wouldn’t have chosen this path.
    But it didn’t matter what Old Alejandro had known . . . only what he was going to do now. Alejandro opened his eyes. “Did Rafael say anything? About whether we’ll get her back safely?”
    Miguel hit Alejandro’s leg with a fist. “Don’t tempt fate.”
    “I need to know,” Alejandro hissed at him.
    “Rafael said it wasn’t up to us,” Joaquim said softly, “so he couldn’t answer.”
    Alejandro blinked at his older brother, appalled. “What does that mean?”
    “Serafina has to save herself,” Joaquim said. “If she doesn’t keep herself together, we won’t be in time to help.”
    Alejandro managed to shove the blind aside before retching out the coach’s window.

Chapter 5
----

    Saturday, 26 June 1920
    T HE LAST REMNANTS of the fake spell circle could still be seen in the light of the setting sun, overlaid like a shimmering mirage atop the chevron-patterned paving stones of the square. Only a fine tracery now, earlier it would have been bright and alarming. The square lay in front of the magnificent baroque church of Bom Jesus; it was no small wonder that the priests had been offended when they found it. This was what had drawn Rafael away from the police station this morning, when Alejandro had wanted to talk to him.
    Alejandro