Ben shook his head. “No, that can’t be. Dew is merely water, condensed from the air by cooling—chemically no different from any other water. But—it might have been simply water.” He crouched down, staring at the thing, and then leapt back up. “Yes, find me some water.”
The two of them hunted for several moments before Lenka found a bottle labeled aqua. His estimation of her rose again; the glass was colored, and so she had clearly read and understood the Latin label. He hoped that the label was accurate—just plain aqua, and not aqua fortis, aqua regis, or some other alchemical stuff. Eagerly, he went back to the device and sprinkled some in.
It hissed, sputtered, and vanished, without steam or smell.
“It’s not hot,” Lenka observed.
“No. No, it need not be, for I jumped to conclusions. Here …” He searched for a few more moments until he found a piece of parchment. He then folded it deftly into a sort of box enclosed on five sides, open on the bottom.
“This is what I was telling you about a moment ago,” Ben said. “If you make something so, and put a small candle in it, ’twill rise under the power of the hot air. Now, I hold it over this little cauldron, and you pour in more water.”
She nodded and did so, and almost immediately, Ben felt a tug on the edge of the little balloon. When he let it go, it drifted up to the ceiling, while behind him, Lenka vented a wordless exclamation that gratified Ben somehow.
“Amazing,” he said. “All those years ago, they had built such a thing.” He remembered his ruminations over the astrological clock in the Old Town Square, and then Newton’s claims about lost knowledge. How could knowledge be lost, with such inventiveness in the world? How was it that this device had languished here in obscurity for a hundred years?
On sudden impulse, he decided to try another experiment. He jogged across the room and picked up a funnel-shaped device he had noticed earlier.
“What’s that?” Lenka asked.
“An aquafier. It condenses water from the air.”
“Ah.” She watched as he unbolted the other device from the boat, and then affixed the aquafier over its mouth.
“Get one of those silks and help me draw its mouth over this,” Ben told her. “I want to see how quickly this generator works.”
She nodded enthusiastically and dragged one of the envelopes over. They arranged the opening over the device—which was now dripping and hissing with a will—and weighted the edges down with books.
“There,” Ben said, pleased. “We shall see.”
“If it works,” Lenka asked, “we can use it to leave?”
“I suppose, but we won’t. The means we have is more practical. It would be impossible to launch such a balloon ship from this tower, for one thing; we would have to move all down to the square and—” He broke off and stared at her. “We?” he asked.
“Yes. I want to leave Prague with you, in the airship—however you go about making it fly.”
“Lenka, the danger is too great.”
“No greater, I think, than remaining here. Once you two have fled, if the slightest suspicion falls on me—and remember that the guard saw you and me go together into the Mathematical Tower—then I may suffer a great deal and perhaps even be killed. You promised to prevent that.”
“Well, yes I did,” Ben admitted, “and yet fleeing with us hardly seems safer.”
“A chance I’ll take,” Lenka said, “to fly in an airship.”
Ben pursed his lips, trying to find a valid objection, but the only one he could think of was that Newton would never stand for it. “Very well,” he said, “but Sir Isaac must not know—you must remain in hiding until the last moment, when his objection will come too late. Be careful while I am gone.”
“Where are you going?”
“I must get word to Robert and Frisk.”
“That’s stupid; you will never slip out of the castle and back in with only one aegis.”
“Robert has two. I’ll find them in his room.” He paused, and then glanced over to her. “You got word from the Jew of where to meet me. Who was the go-between?”
She hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Klaus. One of the dwarfs of the archduchess.”
“The archduchess Maria Theresa?”
“Yes.”
A slow smile spread on Ben’s face. “Then, indeed, I have a plan.”
17.
An Archduchess, a Sorcerer, and a Rain of Fire
“Rehaset Ramai.”
“Hmmf?” The eyes of the little archduchess flew open at his whisper, and she turned her head on her pillow.
“Rehaset Ramai,” Ben repeated.
“Apprentice? Where are you?” she inquired crossly, rubbing her eyes and sitting up.
“I am by your side, invisible, your Royal Highness. I have passed many dangers to come to you, and beg your pardon for waking you at this hour.”
“My father is very angry at you! And so am I!”
Ben wished he could see better, but all the girl’s servants—dwarf and tall folk alike—seemed either absent or asleep, including the diminutive, loudly snoring nurse who shared her room. Ben had the aegis on low calibration and that, along with the near darkness in the room, was his only protection. He had come in through the bedroom window, which Lenka knew to be almost always open—but only a great deal of stealth had gotten him past the guard outside. He was pleased; it seemed that he was becoming well versed in stealth.
“Answer me or I shall scream!” Maria Theresa promised, her voice already too shrill and too loud for Ben’s comfort.
“Soft, Archduchess. The music of your voice might awaken your servants, and none but you must know that I am here. I have come to you because you are the only one who can save the Holy Roman Empire from the evil Turk, from the black sorcerer Wazam—eh, Ha Razim. Please, Archduchess, the fate of the empire is in your hands.”
“Why? Wazam who?” she asked, and Ben congratulated himself on her softer, curious tone. He had her, at least for the moment.
“Much has happened,” Ben whispered. “Among the Turks is a most foul and cruel sorcerer named Wazam Ha Razim. It was he, through evil magics, who brought about the fall of Vienna.”
“I so loved Vienna,” the girl said dreamily, though Ben guessed she was repeating what she had heard others say. She had been scarcely three when the great city fell.
“I have never had the pleasure of seeing it, but I yet hope to. But first we must defeat this devil, this Wazam. He is black of heart—and that heart he keeps in a secret jar, across seven seas, thirteen deserts, and five mountains in a place called Khitai. He keeps it there so that no cannon shot or sharp sword can slay him. But most monstrous of all, Wazam Ha Razim can take any form he likes. He can appear a dragon, a griffin, a beautiful woman—most recently, he has taken my form.”
“Your form?”
“Yes, Your Highness. So that the guards at the gate would let him into Prague—into the very castle.”
“We must tell my father!”
“Soon, Archduchess, but—if it please you—hear the rest of my story.”
“I’m listening.”
“I know you are, because you are wise and sensible, a true Habsburg princess. Now, once in the city, he came upon me asleep, and by his spells bound me up in a casket, and threw the casket into the Moldau so that I would float away. The last thing I heard was his evil laugh, and his bragging how he would murder your father and take you for his bride.”
“He’s stupid. I would never marry such a bad man.”
“You wouldn’t know he was bad, not at first. You would think him handsome, chivalrous, and wise—for he can seem all of those things.”
“I guess so.”
“Anyway, in my shape, he tried to murder your father, but he failed because Sir Isaac is as good a magician as Wazam, as white as Wazam is black, and made some spells to protect your father. In the meantime, I managed to free myself from my watery prison—”
“How? How did you do that?”
“I had, in my possession, a small philter,” Ben replied, delighted at how smoothly the fabrication came to his lips. The archduchess, after all, was female, which seemed to inspire his best in such matters—with the unlikely exception of Lenka. “I meant to make a present of it to you, Your Majesty—but I was forced to drink it. It shrank me to the size of a gnat, so I was able to squeeze through a crack in the casket. Then, with my magic shoes, I walked back up the river—only to find that every guard and soldier in the country was searching for me, thinking me an assassin. But I had to come here to warn you, for I am the only one who knows that Wazam is still in the city—probably still in the castle, plotting his next evil deed.”
“Who does he look like now?”
“I cannot say. He could be anyone. One of the Gentlemen of the Golden Key, one of the servants, one of the guards. That is why we must be so very careful, so very careful who we speak to.” He sighed heavily. “And so now I have told you the story, Archduchess, and you are the only one who can save us. Will you help?”
The archduchess rolled her eyes and folded her arms in front of her. “Yes, of course! I am a Habsburg!”
“Good. Then I must ask you to do some things, and these may seem odd to you.”
“Well?”
“First, there is a certain fellow in your staff, one Klaus, whom I know to be trustworthy. When I have gone, you must impart to him a package I will give you, and he must run right away to deliver it.”
“Make yourself visible, so that I can see you.”
“Very well, Your Highness. But no one else may know that I was here.” He reached to his pocket and removed the key, Maria Theresa giggling and clapping as he became visible. On the other side of the bed, the nurse grunted in her sleep, but did not waken.
“If you had not given me our secret sign,” the archduchess confided, “I should think you were Wazam.”
“But he cannot know our password,” Ben said, “and there is where he made his mistake. Now, the other thing you must do is this.” He drew forth a small bottle, tightly corked.
“Is that my potion for shrinking to the size of a gnat?”
“No, Archduchess—I was forced to use that myself, though in time I can make you another. No, this is a very special potion. You see, I believe that Wazam hides near the gate of the castle—either invisible, as I am, or in the shape of a guard. I believe that he will be there near noon, awaiting the time when your father will pass to go shooting. What you must do is lead your courtiers once around the castle, from the end of Saint George Street back to the front gate, chanting some words I will teach you. Sprinkle a bit of this as you go along, but save most until you reach the gate. There, you must pour what remains upon the ground. It will make all things invisible visible and give all false seemings their true appearance. And you must do this precisely at three o’clock. Can you do this?”
“Just pour it on the ground?”
“Yes. Meanwhile, I will be waiting, and when he appears I shall catch him with a special noose. Is this plan to your liking?”
“Very well,” she answered gleefully. “Very well to my liking. Papa will be very pleased.”
“Yes, he will, but you must take care not to tell him—or anyone else—of our plan. For all you know, even your father may not be who he seems. Anyone could be the black-hearted Wazam. Even your own servants, except for Klaus, so you must not explain to them why or what you are doing.”
“I know. You don’t have to tell me that.”
“Of course not, Archduchess. And now, I must go to prepare my sciences. I hope that I will see you again. Wish me luck!”
“Of course we will meet again. And then you shall join my court. And maybe one day we shall be married.”
“Ah, Your Highness, I am but a commoner—though a great magician, I reluctantly admit. I would never be allowed to marry you—I can only hope to serve.”
“When I am empress,” the girl said a trifle petulantly, “I can marry any man I want.”
“Quite true. Now, do not forget—as soon as I have gone, you must send Klaus on his mission. If word does not reach my friends, all shall be lost.”
“I won’t forget,” she said.
Morning crept up the sky as Ben did back to the tower, and as the light drizzled through his eyes, so did a few doubts into his head. What had he just done? Gambled all of their fortunes on the whimsy of a little girl. If she should tell anyone of his visit, if the letter and aegis came into the wrong hands, their doom was secured.
But there was no gain without risk, was there? And his clever story was surely convincing to a child.
The guard was changing in the street near the tower, but the two men distracted one another well enough with their talk that he passed them easily. Lenka came from hiding when he softly called her.
“All went well?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I can only hope. The archduchess seemed enthralled.”
“She is easily enthralled, but also capricious. I don’t like your plan.”
“You should have spoken more forcefully when I proposed it, then.”
Lenka vaulted her eyebrows. “I seem to remember I did raise an objection. Your ears, I think, are stuffed with your own self-importance.”
“Likely so,” Ben admitted, “but it is too late for that now. Help me prepare the airship.”
Ben hated touching the orb. The malakus within seemed to radiate malevolence, and he felt a cold tickling in his brain, a disorder that he was sure did not come from himself. He did his best to ignore it. Since he was not certain what part the pyramid played in controlling the willful malakus, he left the globe there, dragging the boat nearer and then affixing the cables. He and Lenka then spent the next few hours testing the ancient vessel for rotten places, packing up books and notebooks, along with whatever food and drinking water they could find—which was not much. Ben hoped Newton would think to bring some back with him.
He included the instruments that seemed most needed: a compass, an astrolabe, a small telescope. Amongst the various instruments he found several sympathetic compasses as well, whose needles were tuned to like needles or objects elsewhere, allowing for a fixed reading of some place other than north. One of these pointed in a westerly direction, leaving Ben to wonder if its twin needle was in London, having somehow survived the comet. He included that among the articles on the boat, thinking it might help them navigate. Another pointed southeast, but when he moved it, the needle swung sharply. Confused, he wondered if it was broken; with each step he took the needle changed direction.
The real solution was so simple that he felt stupid for not seeing it immediately; the matching needle was somewhere in the laboratory. Once he had that thought in mind, it was easy enough to locate using the compass. The “needle”—a bar of metal about three inches long—was in a desk drawer. After a bit of thought, he hid the bar in a crack in the stone of the tower, scratched “Prague” onto the brass casing of the compass, and placed it in the boat.
His gaze then crossed to the talos, and he shuddered. Was the spirit of the Golem really captured in it? It had not moved or otherwise given any outward sign, but somehow he did not doubt what Newton had said. What he did doubt was that the murderous thing was really tame. He made a point of staying as far from it as possible.
As three o’clock neared, he went to the window facing into the castle.
“What are you watching for?” Lenka asked.
“The archduchess and her dwarves. I’m going to join them. If she fails to do what she should with the potion, I will empty my own.”
“That is, I think, a very bad idea,” Lenka opined. “Why lay such an elaborate plan and then not trust it?”
“You’ve answered your own question,” Ben said. “Elaborate plans are most prone to failure. In the best of worlds, all will go as I hope, and the archduchess will empty her potion bottle onto the ground. However, as a Frenchman I once knew was prone to argue, this is not the best of all possible w
orlds. I owe both Robert and Frisk my life. Besides, we need Frisk, if we plan to find the army of Sweden. I don’t know where it is.” He smiled and winked at her. “But I’m pleased you are concerned for me.”
She frowned. “If you are captured, Sir Isaac will discover me, and without your persuasion, will leave me here. That is the nature of my concern.”
“Oh, I see,” he said, with an exaggerated air of disappointment. “Well, let me show you something.” He beckoned her over to the craft. “Did you notice this?” he asked, rapping a board on the small deck.
“What?”
“It’s very cunning. You see?” He depressed one of the ornamental crenelations on the side of the boat, and with a small click, a section of the deck popped up a bit. With his fingernails, he lifted a hidden hatch. Beneath was a space; cramped, but easily large enough for a person Lenka’s size.
“I found this when you were hunting for food,” he explained. “I put a few things in here I didn’t want Sir Isaac to know about.”
“What sort of things?”
“A kraftpistole from my quarters—”
“You went to your rooms?”
“Yes. Also my water-walking shoes, a musket, powder, and shot. But I left most of the space empty—for you.”
“Me? In there?” She regarded the tiny space dubiously.
“He won’t let you on the boat, Lenka. I’ve thought about it, but he won’t, not with Frisk and Robert, too. Best wait until we are aloft to reveal you. If anything happens to me—or if Newton should return early—you hide there.”
“For how long?”
“Not long. Newton will not throw you out: I know him that well, at least.”
“I hope so.”
From the window drifted the sounds of drums, cymbals, and hautbois.
“There they are. A kiss for good luck?”
“You don’t need luck; you need some sense.”
“Well, a kiss for good sense then.”
“I’ve never noticed nor even heard it rumored that a kiss gave a man sense. Quite the contrary.”
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