“I simply want to offer some advice,” Dee said. “I’ve investigated many murders. Several of them were politically motivated.” He smiled. “I am an expert.”

“Fine, know-it-all. What’s your advice? And let me tell you I’ll take it or leave it, as I please.”

“Very well. Let’s start by assuming that only one person has tried to kill you, instead of several.”

Neel’s brain spun. He imagined the three other tribe leaders shoving him off the palace wall, or his three advisers pouring poison on his food. He hadn’t even thought that there could be more than one would-be assassin.

“We could be wrong,” said Dee. “But we’ll start simply, with one attacker, until evidence suggests otherwise. Now, how would you discover his or her identity?”

“I guess by figuring out who most wants me dead.” Tarn, Neel thought. It was clear.

Dee tsked. “You want the motive. You want the why. I understand. The why is enticing. But in this case, the how is just as important. Consider the two attacks. Describe them, with just one word. First, you are pushed to your doom on a moonless night.”

“Impulsive.” The word had popped out of Neel’s mouth. “Don’t you think? The fellow—lady—whatever—saw an opportunity and took it. Me staring out into space, talking to a scoot”—Neel’s heart constricted as he thought of the poor animal—“my back turned. The attacker was impulsive.”

“Good. Now, the second attempt. Your food is poisoned during a ball. A killer would have to be careful not to be seen.”

“Planned,” Neel said. “That one was planned.”

“Yes, and for full effect. The poisoner hoped to see you die, dramatically, in front of the entire court. What does that tell you?”

Neel understood what Dee was driving at. “That whoever it is won’t stop. That if he—she—wanted me dead to begin with, that wanting’s growing fiercer.”

“Yes.”

Neel’s gaze swept around the room, at the blue wall, the red one, the yellow, and the green.

Now, he thought, how can I use this to my advantage?

28

The House on Molodova Street

PETRA STOOD IN FRONT of the carved wooden door illuminated by a green-burning brassica lamp set in a stone wall. The horses stamped impatiently as the carriage waited and Tomik glanced up and down the street with an awed look. He had never before been to Mala Strana, the most luxurious part of Prague, and Petra supposed that he was impressed by the many-storied houses with their marble trimmings of birds and dragons and flowers. Probably he was wondering how the glass windows managed to be free of frost on this cold night.

Petra knocked at the door. A servant opened it, and Petra hoped that the light of the brassica lamp showed the woman nothing too strange. Just a pair of young, wealthy travelers.

“We would like to see Lucas and Zora December,” said Petra. This time her high-class accent was perfect. “We’re friends of their aunt.”

They were invited into a hallway lined with tapestries and asked to wait.

What artistry! said Astrophil after the servant had left. Those tapestries must have been sewn two centuries ago. Do you see how that dragonfly almost blends into the trees? You have to have a careful eye to notice it. And there is a frog, too, hidden in the grass. Why, it is like a seek-and-find game!

Astrophil, please. I’m too nervous to talk about tapestries.

Astrophil burrowed deeper in Petra’s hair as a girl came down the hall. She looked about fifteen years old, Petra guessed, and was marked by a quiet confidence. Petra recognized younger versions of Iris’s tiny hands and feet, and the narrow chin that seemed to make this girl’s eyes bigger. They were clear, intelligent eyes, and there was a smile on the small flower of her mouth.

“I’m Zora December,” she said, “and I know exactly who you are. I have told the servants to unpack your bags from the carriage. The driver will be sent home to Aunt Iris. You will no longer need him. You will stay here until I say you can go.” She turned and began to walk away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tomik hissed at Petra. “Are we under arrest?”

“Perhaps we are her guests,” Astrophil whispered back, “and she is a rather bossy hostess.”

“Come along,” Zora called behind her. “The spider, too!”

Astrophil squeaked. His legs bit into Petra’s earlobe.

Petra ran to catch up with Zora, and pulled the other girl’s arm so that she swung around to face her. “We’ve come here for help,” Petra said, “but no one’s going to make us stay here. We need to know if we can trust you.”

Tomik was right behind her. The three of them stood at the foot of a stone staircase. “The Academy—”

Zora tugged her arm out of Petra’s grasp. “The hallway,” she murmured, “is not the place to discuss this. A servant can pass by at any time, and I can’t promise you that the whole of my household is loyal to my brother and me. I can’t promise you anything. All I can say is that I want what my aunt Iris wants. If that’s not good enough for you, you’re welcome to leave. Otherwise, please follow me to my finest spare bedrooms. I’d lock you in the attic, but that would cause far too many tongues to wag. It’s better if the servants think you are my dear friends.” At that, the maid who had answered the door walked through it, carrying a trunk by one handle as a valet brought up the other end. “And you are so dear to me,” Zora added in a loud voice. “It’s been such a long time!” She kissed Petra’s cheek, then Tomik’s. “You must be glad to see me, too.”

Tomik looked a little dazed. “Yes.” Petra sighed. “I guess we are.”

Zora led them to an upstairs room with dark walnut furniture and red hangings. A brassica lamp burned at a small table that was already set with three plates and a covered silver platter.

“Well,” said Tomik after the servants had left, “if it’s a prison, it’s a nice one.”

Zora smiled. “Petra, you’ll sleep here. There’s an adjoining room”—she pointed at a door near the fireplace—“for Tomik. Now, Astrophil, are you going to come out and say hello? It’s not very polite to hide from your hostess, and I was led to believe that you are the very soul of politeness.”

Astrophil crawled out from under Petra’s hair and onto the top of her head. He executed a many-legged bow.

“Astrophil!” Petra, who could feel what he was doing, was a bit shocked that the spider was so forward.

“Zora does seem nice,” he said in a small voice.

“I don’t know about ‘nice,’” said Zora, “but I like things to be as they should. Right now, very little in Bohemia is as it should be. I’m going to change that, and so are you, Petra, which makes us partners.”

“Iris told you everything,” said Petra.

“Actually, no. And she didn’t tell me you’d turn up on my doorstep. She didn’t tell me that your so-called disguises were this bad.”

“But she dyed my hair,” Tomik protested. “It has smelled like oil and licorice for a week now. It’s got to do something.”

Zora raised her eyes to the ceiling. “I love Aunt Iris. Since our parents died, she’s the only family my brother and I have. But she is blinded by her obsessions with her work. She thinks color changes the world. Maybe it can, sometimes. You, Tomik, would probably escape notice if you weren’t standing right next to Petra. There are leaflets with your faces all over the country—hers, especially, and when yours appears it’s sketched next to hers. We’ll be lucky if one of the servants doesn’t notice who Petra is and decide to send us to Prince Rodolfo’s dungeon.”

“I might have been spotted by one of the Academy students,” Petra said.

Zora grimaced. “Let’s hope, then, that student couldn’t guess where you were headed.”

“It was chaos there,” said Tomik. “The Academy’s in ruins, and—”

“I know.”

“It just happened. How can you possibly already know?” asked Astrophil. “What is your connection to Bohemia’s school of magic?”

“None, really,” said a new voice. They turned to see a fair-haired young man enter the room and shut the door behind him. He looked so much like Zora that it was immediately clear to Petra that this was Lucas, the older December. “None,” he continued, “except for the fact that she and I are the leaders of the rebellion.”

There was a pause, and someone would have said something eventually, if the silence hadn’t been interrupted by a distant boom.

All eyes darted to the window. There was the sound of another explosion. On a dark hill above the city a green fire began to burn.

29

The Rebels

“BEAUTIFUL!” said Lucas as he lifted a curtain to see the fire better.

“Lucas,” his sister scolded. “Stop staring at the pretty inferno. Introduce yourself to our guests.”

“Sorry.” He gave them a sheepish grin. “But it’s silly to do that now, isn’t it? We all know who the other is. You’re Petra and Tomik, and I’m Lucas. Er … Lucas December, duke of Moravia, I guess, if you want to be precise.”

Petra didn’t care about his title. “What is that?” She pointed at the green fire.

“Prague’s biggest brassica warehouse,” Lucas said.

“No.” Astrophil was appalled. “It is not true. It cannot be true. A fire like that … the amount of oil it would take to cause it … oh! Barrels and barrels of delicious oil!” His gaze fixed upon Zora and Lucas. “You … you caused this. Do you care nothing for the tin spiders of the world?”

“I think you’re the only one,” Zora said with a smile.

“Did you set the Academy on fire?” asked Petra.

“Not personally,” said Lucas, “but we planned it.”

Petra stared. “How could you do that? People died.”

“No.” Lucas looked confused. “We were careful to prevent that. We only wanted to destroy the building. Our agents set off an explosion in the cellar—but after everyone had escaped. In fact, two of the agents are Academy professors. They made sure everyone was safe.”

“Everyone except Fiala Broshek.”

“She fled the building. A rebel saw her.”

“Are you sure?”

Lucas frowned at the excitement in Petra’s voice. “It’s nothing to be glad about. Believe me, Petra, there’d be no loss to the world if she’d stayed inside. She’s one of the reasons we destroyed the Academy. Broshek was experimenting in the cellar laboratories. She’s been using her power over human flesh to create new monsters. She had to be stopped.” He sighed. “The truth is, she’s probably carrying on her experiments someplace else. But at least her laboratory is gone, and so is the influence she had over Bohemia’s magical youth.”

“But so is the Academy,” said Tomik. “The best school for magic in the whole Hapsburg Empire.”

“Exactly,” said Zora. “And who will inherit the empire? Emperor Karl still has a choice between two sons: Rodolfo and Frederic. We want him to choose Frederic. That’s partly why we planned to destroy the Academy. That’s also why Lucas blew up the brassica warehouse.”

“That one I did myself,” Lucas said with pride.

“Karl’s old, but he’s refused to name an heir because it gives him power over his children,” Zora said. “His sons have always sought his favor. But now Prince Maximilian is dead, and Rodolfo is becoming a greater threat than ever. Do you know how many countries in Europe fear his army of Gray Men? Can you imagine what will happen if Rodolfo becomes the Hapsburg emperor, and takes possession of Austria, Hungary, and countless other territories? He could rule the world. We know what kind of ruler he would be. That can’t happen.”

A storm began to gather inside Petra.

“I know nothing of Prince Frederic,” said Astrophil. “Is he really a better choice?”

“He has to be. Anybody would be better.”

Petra squeezed her eyes shut.

“We have to make Emperor Karl see this,” said Lucas. “So we attacked Prince Rodolfo where it would hurt the most. The loss of the Academy will be huge. Bohemia’s biggest export is brassica oil, and that warehouse fire means Prince Rodolfo will have much less money to fund his army. It means that he’s been weakened, and that his people hate him enough to make their own country bleed. Maybe now the emperor will understand that he has to name an heir, and that it has to be Frederic.”

“Stop,” said Petra. “Please stop talking about your plans and your politics and your efforts to change the world. I hate Rodolfo more than you can imagine, but don’t you see that you can’t control the fate of an entire empire? I wish you could. I wish for a lot of things. But right now I just want to find Fiala Broshek.”

The room went still. Petra turned her back to everyone. She faced the window, trying to wrangle her emotions into something she could manage. Outside, the fire flared and cast an eerie green light over the city. Astrophil silently held on to her hair.

Tomik cleared his throat. Petra knew he was exchanging glances with Zora and Lucas. “I’m not sure how much Iris told you…” Tomik said hesitantly.

“Almost nothing,” Lucas answered. “Just that she was helping you disguise yourselves, and that she had given you our address.”