Iron Cast

For my mom, who taught me to read.
And my dad, who taught me to love the stories.
And for Kara, who is golden.

PUBLISHER'S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Soria, Destiny.
Title: Iron cast / Destiny Soria.
Description: New York : Amulet Books, 2016. | Summary: In 1919 Boston, best friends Corinne and Ada perform illegally as illusionists in an infamous gangster's nightclub, using their “afflicted” blood to con Boston's elite, until the law closes in.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016013279 | ISBN 9781419721922 (hardback) | eISBN 9781613121528
Subjects: | CYAC: Magicians—Fiction. | Criminals—Fiction. | Nightclubs—Fiction. | Gangsters—Fiction. | Prejudices—Fiction. | Boston (Mass.)—History—19th century—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.S678 Iro 2016 | DDC [Fic]—dc23 LC record available at
https://lccn.loc.gov/2016013279

Text copyright © 2016 Destiny Soria
Book and jacket design by Alyssa Nassner
Jacket illustrations copyright © 2016 Sam Wolfe Connelly
Jacket typography by Caleb Heisey

Published in 2016 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS.
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

Amulet Books and Amulet Paperbacks are registered trademarks of Harry N. Abrams, Inc.

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WE ARE THE MUSIC-MAKERS,
AND WE ARE THE DREAMERS OF DREAMS

—Arthur O'Shaughnessy, “Ode”

CHAPTER ONE

Corinne's first day as a nurse at the Haversham Asylum for Afflictions of the Blood was a frosty Thursday. It had been a little over a week since the start of the New Year, and so far 1919 was not showing signs of promise—at least according to the head nurse. Corinne smoothed out her white starched uniform as the pale, hawkish woman clucked her tongue at the state of the world.

“Mark my words, this is the year when the Bolsheviks make themselves known,” said the head nurse. “America is under siege from within.”

“No doubt,” Corinne said vaguely. She wasn't really paying attention. She couldn't even remember the head nurse's name, though she supposed it would come to her eventually. The corridors they walked were all the same hideous taupe, from floor to ceiling. It gave Corinne a headache, though that might have been due to the comically large ring of keys that clinked and clanked with the head nurse's every step. Over the PA system, a dreary voice told Dr. Knox that he had a visitor, and to please report to the front desk.

The buckle of Corinne's left shoe had loosened, and she hopped on one foot to fix it while the head nurse unlocked the door marked
205
in shiny black paint.

“You'll start your rounds every morning at precisely seven a.m.,” she told Corinne. “Structure and punctuality are very important here. You'll have a chart that explains which patients are confined to their rooms and which are permitted to take breakfast in the dining hall.”

The lock gave way with a groan, and the head nurse returned her key ring to her belt.

“Ada,” she said into the dark room. “Ada, I know you're awake.”

“Morning, Molls,” came a voice from the corner opposite the bed. A small, barred window let in enough light for Corinne to make out the girl's warm, sepia skin and high, jutting cheekbones. She was sitting on the floor, wedged into the corner with one knee clutched to her chest. Her eyes glinted in the dim daylight as she tilted her chin upward.

“You'll address me as Nurse Heller,” said the head nurse. Then she turned to Corinne. “This is Ada Navarra. She arrived here only recently and is still adjusting. There was an . . . incident when she first came, so she's confined to her room until Dr. Knox clears her.”

“What sort of incident?” Corinne asked, fiddling with a strand of yellow hair that had fallen from her neat braid.

“Some lunatic tried to jab metal into me, and I politely refused,” said Ada, eyeing Corinne. Her lips twitched slightly, and although her voice was weak, it held an edge. “You don't look half old enough to be playing nurse, Goldilocks. Tell 'em you were eighteen, did you?”

“Dr. Knox was trying to perform a routine examination, and Miss Navarra flipped a table on top of him,” Nurse Heller said. “Ada, this is Nurse Salem. She will be assisting me on this ward.”

Ada chuckled and shook her head. Her scarf was coming loose, and tight ebony coils sprang free across her smooth skin.

“I fail to see what's funny about that,” said Corinne.

“Salem? You gotta be pulling my leg,” Ada said, squinting at her.

“That's enough, Ada,” said Nurse Heller. She rapped her knuckles against the doorframe. “You'll show Nurse Salem respect
or Dr. Knox will hear of it. And cover your hair—you're indecent.”

Ada tugged at the gray scarf. Her lips were still twisted into a smirk, though the lines of weariness were unmistakable in her features.

“Say, Nurse Salem, you come from a family of witches?” she asked. “Because I have this awful pain in my rear and could sure use a touch of dark magic.”

“Salem is a Hellenization of the Hebrew
shalom,
which means
peace
,” said Corinne.

“Pardon me,” said Ada, retying the scarf with exaggerated gusto. “I did not know I was in the presence of a scholar. You can teach me some Latin while you scrub the latrine.”

“I don't expect you'd be able to handle the declensions,” Corinne replied coolly.