August could tell by the tension in her voice that this was completely unexpected news, a loose thread that could unravel her entire plan. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of telling her it was back in Germany, that the Gutenberg wasn’t on the plane at all. But the thought of her giving the command to execute Charlie quickly dispelled that notion. “It’s with the checked baggage,” he confessed.

“You checked it.”

“Yes.”

Her eyes held his. “I don’t believe you’d do that. It’s too risky.”

It was risky, which was why August tended to favor the approach. What kind of book thief would expect him to plant homing devices in his rare books, shrink-wrap them, then slap a “Collector’s Edition Reproduction” sticker on the outside?

“Well, it works. Obviously.”

Xandria said nothing, which scared August. He couldn’t tell if she was going to laugh or claw his eyes out. She did neither, instead turning forward in her seat and taking a few deep breaths. August felt lucky that Xandria had apparently visited a few psychotherapists over the years.

“Then I guess you’ll have to go get it,” she stated, in a voice so calm he almost didn’t hear her.

“Go get it?” August said. “It’s in the cargo hold! They don’t exactly let people down there!”

“Excuses, excuses,” Xandria said, reclining and crossing her ankles. “You and your ex-wife aren’t very good at taking responsibility for your problems, are you?”

August contemplated the options. “There’s no way I can do it.”

“You’re Superman, remember?” Xandria said with a smirk. She slithered closer to August. “Charlie needs you to figure this out.” Closer. “And I need you to figure this out too.”

August could feel her body next to his. His heartbeat accelerated despite himself. He could smell her perfume swirling around him, both invigorating and toxic.

“Stay away from me,” he said, rising from his seat. He clumsily climbed over her on his way into the aisle.

“Don’t forget to get my book,” she said sweetly. “Foucault’s Pendulum, remember?”

August untangled his left foot from between her ankles. He tottered in the aisle, using the headrests for support as the cabin shook once again.

A flight attendant came bounding up to him from the front of the plane. “Sir, sir!” She scowled. “Maybe you didn’t hear the announcement, but we need everyone in their seats. We’ve been experiencing some turbulence.”

“Turbulence? Really?” August said, stalling while he thought about his next move. He looked a couple rows ahead and saw the kid next to the grandfather he had helped. August turned back to the flight attendant, his plans resolved. “I’m sorry . . . Janice,” he said, reading the name on her badge. “I just wanted to check on my friend who got hit in the head earlier.”