This did not seem like a good idea to Petra. Her father may not have cared to make sure she knew what kind of dress a twelve-year-old girl should wear, but he did see to it that certain parts of her education were not lacking, and that included knowing how to steer clear of dangerous magic. She knew perfectly well that the sort of thing Dee proposed, scrying, could break her mind. She liked her mind the way it was: sane. “I thought you said you weren’t a magician.”

“I hope you do not believe everything you are told, my dear.”

“What if I don’t want to look at your greasy old nail? What’s to stop me from going directly to the prince and telling him all about your plans? You and your stupid queen wouldn’t be so happy then.”

“I would deny everything you told the prince. Whom would he believe, you or me? I would reveal your identity and your own plans. And then there”—he snapped his sharp fingers—“would go your hope to regain your father’s sight. Oh, and I believe you would also lose your life.”

She was trapped just as surely as if he had locked her inside one of his boxes.

“Come, Petra. It is a fair bargain. We are trading vision for a vision.”

“So if I tell you what I see, you will help me get my father’s eyes back?”

“I said that I might help you.” “That seems like a very bad deal to me.” “Sadly, it is the only one you will be offered.” “Then I refuse.”

“Then I shall have to send for the prince.”

She felt like kicking him.

Instead, she marched forward and glanced at his clawlike hands. “I don’t see anything.”

“How can you see if you do not look?” He held up his left hand and extended his thumb. “Look.”

The slick nail gleamed like a large green pearl. The lamplight flickered on its surface. As Petra gazed at it, she found that she could not look away. She grew dizzy, and the room darkened around her. But just as suddenly, her vision cleared and she lifted her head. “I didn’t see anything,” she said with relief.

Dee withdrew his hand. “That is a pity. Still, I think I shall keep up my end of the bargain. I shall help you first by giving you information. Surely you have some questions you would like answered?”

“How can the clock be destroyed?”

He gave a slight shrug. “I don’t know.”

“What is the prince’s magical talent?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

She gave him a look made of steel. “What good is it to ask you questions if you don’t have any answers?”

“Try asking the right questions.”

“What is the Cabinet of Wonders?”

“Ah!” Dee beamed. “So you know about that already. Good girl! The Cabinet of Wonders is the prince’s private collection. He is a lover of objects that are beautiful, strange, and priceless. Naturally, your father’s eyes fall into that category. Now, I have learned the source of the prince’s difficulty in using the clock to control the weather. It appears that your father failed to assemble one last part before he was blinded. Wearing your father’s eyes seems to give the prince some aid in putting together that part—because, I believe, they allow the prince to see the metal components as your father could. But the prince hasn’t yet been entirely successful in his efforts.

“I suspect the prince keeps the part in his prized collection. It would be useful if you could gain access to the Cabinet of Wonders. I will suggest to the prince that he employ you as a maid to his chambers. Or, rather, I will make the suggestion to someone in a position to persuade the prince.”

“And to take the blame if I succeed in getting my father’s eyes back.”

“I sense disapproval.” He clucked. “Surely you are not suggesting that I should be the responsible party for your actions? Petra,” Dee chided, “whether you wish to ignore the consequences of your actions is wholly beside the point that there will, indeed, be several unpleasant ones.”

He paused, waiting to see if she would reply. When she did not, he continued, “The prince likes to have one person assigned to clean one room of the seven rooms in his suite. His collection is so important to him that he doesn’t like to expose its existence to too many people. The problem is that he tends to grow suspicious of his pages and maids. He recently, hmm, fired one, a girl named Eliska.”

A cold, creeping feeling stole over Petra. She recognized that name. It had been in the captain of the guard’s Worry Vial.

“I think it should not be too hard to promote you to take her place. The Countess of Krumlov is pleased with your work. I observed you closely during the celebrations in the courtyard, and I noticed that the prince took an interest in you. You caught his eye. Or, I should say, you caught your father’s eye. The prince is a man led by his curiosity. You have sparked his.

“And now I shall help you in one last way.” Dee reached into a pocket, pulled out a small, brown bottle, and gave it to her. Petra did not like the way he kept presenting bottles out of his pockets. It made her realize that he had planned this conversation with her for a while.

“What is it?”

“It is belladonna. If you put one drop in each eye, it will make them look black. You look a great deal like your father. I would advise you to hide any family resemblance as much as possible. Use the belladonna when you go to the prince’s chambers. Do not use it if you plan on seeing the Countess of Krumlov. She will notice the difference.”

“Obviously. I have a brain, you know.”

“I do know. I have confidence in your abilities. In fact, I know that when you retrieve your father’s eyes, you will also bring about the destruction of the clock’s special powers. Find that part, and break it. Or I shall see that you and your family pay the price for the clock’s creation in the first place.”

“That was not part of our deal!”

Dee smirked. “Ah, but it was an implicit part of our deal. You are an honorable young girl. Surely you will keep to the spirit of our pact, and not just the letter. And remember: there are more ways than one to skin a cat—or, in this case, to make certain that the prince is never able to use the clock. Let’s say your father were to … disappear. This would eliminate the chance that the prince could send for him to solve his rather annoying problem of not knowing how to make the clock of Mikal Kronos work the way he wishes.”

“But I don’t know what the part looks like! And I certainly don’t know how to destroy it!”

“Oh, it can’t be that hard. It’s easier to break something than to create it.” He tapped a finger against his lips, considering. When he spoke, it was with the voice of someone who thought he was being very generous. “I’ll tell you what, my dear. If I gather any new information on the clock I shall pass it along to you. When you receive my message, you shall do exactly as I say. Now, how does that sound?”

She struggled not to shout, but what she said still came out as a growl. “The day I come into my powers is the day you’d better be worried, Dee.”

“But who knows if you will have any?” he replied airily. “You may be as talented as a block of wood. Perhaps your father has—had—skills to be wary of, but what about your mother? She was no one special.”

Petra nearly told him that indeed she had been, but stopped the words before they reached her lips. He already had collected too much knowledge about her through unknown means. She shouldn’t present him with details about her life as if they were little cakes on a platter. She certainly shouldn’t mention her newfound ability to speak secretly with the tin spider hiding in her hair, or her accuracy with throwing daggers. “Are we done? I want to leave.”

“Allow me to accompany you to the door.” In a fluid movement of velvet, he stood up and walked with her. “Petra,” he said as she stepped into the hallway, “let me give you a word of advice. It is not wise to make threats.” He smiled. “Someone might take them seriously.”

And then he shut the door.

22

Neel Talks Sense

NEEL WAS FURIOUS. “Where were you? I waited until dawn!” He pounced out of the cellar shadows the evening after the celebrations, as servants milled into the dining hall, still red-eyed from too much drinking and too little sleep. Petra didn’t even have a chance to ask how he had gotten inside the castle. He yanked open a door she had never noticed before, pulled her upstairs and outside onto the grounds, and dragged her behind an enormous woodpile.

“Well, I—” She tried to speak.

“I thought maybe something happened to you! Or did you get scared? You did, didn’t you? That was stupid, Pet. We had a prime opportunity last night!”

“I wasn’t scared! I—”

Neel’s eyes burned with yellow-green fire. “Don’t tell me,” he said slowly, “that you went alone.”

“Not exactly.”

“So you did. I see. Just like a cat carrying a mouse to her own secret corner, aren’t you? Didn’t think I deserved a bite, did you?”

“That’s not it. That’s not it at all. I was trying to … Neel, it isn’t safe for you.”

Sudden understanding turned Neel’s face into a wooden mask. Petra hurriedly explained what had happened in the forest after he had walked ahead to the Lovari camp. She told him about Emil and his fierce desire to protect Neel.

“And you listened to him?” Neel exploded. “Emil’s the last person who’s got any call to have any say over what I do! He ain’t my brother or my father!”

“Emil’s right, Neel. You heard what the captain of the guard said. You heard about those people. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”

He was too angry to speak.

Then a snowflake drifted past his face. Another one appeared out of the gray sky, landed on Neel’s nose, and disappeared.

“Petra.” Neel’s voice didn’t sound angry anymore, just tired. “You’ve got to do something for me.”

“What?”

“You’ve got to take one minute—one minute—to stop being so …” He grew frustrated. “So sunora.”

Petra wasn’t used to being called names she didn’t understand. She folded her arms across her chest and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re so green. I know you’re not used to the ways of life around here, but you’ve got to think. If pinching the purse of some hill-bred nobody would get me sent to the gallows, what do you think is going to happen when the prince finds out that a bunch of Gypsies have been eating his deer, eating his conies, and living on his own hunting grounds? He won’t think twice about turning us all into dust in the captain’s vial. How long is it going to take before that happens?” He flung his hand into the sky and the snowflakes sifting down. “You got your reasons for wanting what’s inside the Cabinet. I got mine. Leastways I know that if things don’t go our way and I get caught, what’ll happen to me will happen just to me.”

Astrophil cleared his throat. “And Petra.”

“Right. So no more second-guessing.” Neel took a small knife from his pocket and cut his palm. “Swear.” He passed her the knife and held up his left hand, where a thin line of blood shone.

Petra, you know the rules of a blood oath, Astrophil warned. Maybe you should—

“I do swear.” She cut her palm. Ignoring the sting, she grasped Neel’s bloody, dirty hand.

Astrophil sighed.

“Good.” Neel shook her hand for good measure. “Now let’s talk sense.”

“Let me tell you what happened last night.” Petra began to relate the conversation that had taken place between her and John Dee. She held back any details concerning the clock. As she spoke, the two of them leaned against the woodpile, shivering under the white sky.

“He made you scry?” Neel frowned.

“Yes.”

“What did you see?”

“Nothing. At least, I don’t think I saw anything.”

“You might not’ve. That might not’ve been what he wanted.”

Petra gave him a searching look. “What do you know about scrying?”

“Nothing. Well, nothing much. But the Roma are good at mind-magic—foretelling, scrying, and the like. As far as I know, asking someone to look at a shiny bit of something doesn’t always mean you want to know the truth about the present or the past. There’s other stuff a scryer can do.”

“Like drive someone insane.”

“There’s that, too.” He peered at her and smiled. “Looks like you got all your marbles, though.”

She felt a pang of homesickness when he said this. She missed Tomik. She missed Okno. She missed her family.

Neel was pensive. “I’ve got to ask Drabardi about this. But tell me: how come this Dee knows stuff about you? Did he drop a word about me? Or Astro?”

“No,” Astrophil said to Neel. “But he is a difficult man to read. He acted as if he was being honest. Even too honest. But listening to him speak is like seeing the curve of a tree root just above the ground. You can see only one piece, and you have no idea what the rest of the root looks like, how far down it goes, and how far it stretches out under the earth.”

“Is he a friend of your da’s?”

“No,” Petra said, insulted. “He’s a spy”

“No need to get all prickly. I was just asking. Because it’s weird that some foreign gentleman is offering to help you. Give me that bottle of bella-whatsit.” Neel took the brown bottle from her. He opened it, sniffed the liquid, and put a little on his tongue. Then, before Petra could stop him, he tipped back his head and let a drop fall into one eye.