The Bone House

“What?” asked Kit.

“What is she doing here?” hissed Giles.

“She?” wondered Kit, swivelling in his chair.

“Don’t turn around!”

He sensed a presence behind him, and then the last voice he expected to hear spoke his name: “Kit? Giles? Upon my soul-it is you!”

And then she was at their table, standing over them.

Kit looked up into the face he thought never to see again-as lovely as ever, but now contorted in anguish and fear.

“Hello, Haven,” said Kit, voice husky, his skin tingling with instant revulsion. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“You must leave at once!” she urged. Eyes wide, she stole a swift glance towards the shop entrance where another party of customers was just entering. “Quick!” Her manner became frantic. She clutched at Kit’s arm as if to pull him bodily from his chair. “Flee! You must not let him see you. He thinks you dead.”

“Who?”

Across the table, Giles, watching the entrance, let out a low growl of contempt as he spat out the name. “Burleigh!”

CHAPTER 26

In Which the Question of What to Do Is Asked and Answered-Twice

Is there a problem here?” asked Wilhelmina. She put down the plates she was holding and turned to confront the russet-haired beauty standing over Kit.

“Mina,” said Kit, “meet Haven Fayth. No time to explain. Burleigh’s here.”

“Bloody great,” muttered Wilhelmina, glancing at the party just entering the shop.

“Is anyone with him?”

“Help them, I pray you,” said Lady Fayth, appealing to Mina. “They are in danger. You must help them flee this place at once.”

“Right.” Wilhelmina fixed a smile on her face as she observed the newcomers just then trooping into the coffeehouse. “I see Bazalgette. .. and now… yes, Rosenkruez is here too.”

“Who are they? Do you know them?”

“Alchemists at the emperor’s court,” explained Wilhelmina. “I know them.”

“All haste, I urge you,” said Haven.

“Is there another way out of this building?” asked Kit.

“Through the kitchen. My apartment is upstairs. Go up there and wait for me,” replied Wilhelmina, already moving to greet the newcomers. “You come with me,” she added to Lady Fayth.

“Wait!” Kit said, leaping up. He snatched Haven by the arm. “The green book.” He stretched out his hand. “Sir Henry’s book. I want it.”

Lady Fayth hesitated. “Burleigh is here! You must flee at once.”

“Not without the book,” insisted Kit. “Hand it over.”

“Oh, very well,” relented Haven. “Take it.” From a fold in her dress she brought out a small cloth-wrapped square and pressed it into Kit’s hand. “Get you hence.”

Wilhelmina returned and drew the young woman away, throwing a command over her shoulder as she went. “You two get upstairs and keep quiet. Now hurry!”

Giles and Kit slipped into the kitchen. They heard the other party clumping into the room behind them, the flow of German fast and thick. Etzel was bending over the stove, banking the oven for the night. He smiled when he saw them. Kit nodded and mimed laying his head on a pillow and then pointed towards the ceiling as he headed for the staircase leading to the upper rooms. “Jahwol, ” said Etzel. “Schlaft gut.”

They found Wilhelmina’s room across from the landing, went in, and closed the door. The room was Spartan spare: a high bed, a chair, a small round table, a large and ornately carved chest with a domed top, and in a corner, a tall standing wardrobe. “The bed or the chair,” said Kit. “Which would you prefer?”

Before Giles could reply, a knock came on the door. They turned as a young woman in green livery entered with a shallow pan of coals. “Ich habe die Glut,” she said, offering the pan.

“Vielen Dank,” replied Kit, indicating the hearth.

The maid busied herself at the grated fireplace and soon had a cosy fire going. She rose and, with a pretty curtsey, left, closing the door behind her. Kit lit a candle on the mantel from the fire and set it on the table, then settled on the bed to wait. Giles took the chair. “Some deal, eh?” mused Kit. “The one guy we hope to avoid shows up here first thing. What are the odds?”

Giles regarded him with a puzzled expression. “Sir?”

“Burleigh shows up here just as we’re getting settled in,” said Kit. “Some coincidence.”

“Sir Henry always said there was no such thing as coincidence.”

“So I hear,” said Kit, sinking back onto the bed. “I’m beginning to believe it.”

They talked quietly for a while, lamenting the cruel demise of Cosimo and Sir Henry at Burleigh’s hands and allowing themselves the luxury of imagining what they might do to settle the score. “Did you ever see Sir Henry’s book?” asked Kit.

“No, sir. I was not privy to His Lordship’s papers,” replied Giles.

Kit pulled the book from where he had stashed it in his belt and began unwrapping it. “Well, he made a careful study of all this ley business and wrote it down in this little book.” He passed the green-bound volume to Giles, who regarded it with interest, cracked open the cover, and thumbed a few pages. “What do you make of it?”

He closed the cover and returned the book to Kit. “Very interesting, sir.”

“But?”

“I cannot read, sir.”

“Oh.”

There was a rustle at the door, and Wilhelmina swept in. “They’re gone,” she said. “I told them we were just closing. Burleigh and the others have gone back to the palace. Come on, we’ve got to get you out of here-out of Prague.”

“We just got here,” complained Kit. “Can’t we stay?”

“No. It isn’t safe.” She spun on her heel and darted back through the doorway.

“It’s a big city. We’ll lie low.”

“Look, Burleigh doesn’t know that I know you. Anyway, he thinks you’re dead. Let’s keep it that way. Now, come on!”

“My lady is right,” said Giles. “It is best to avoid trouble whenever possible.”

Kit tucked the green book back into his sash and climbed reluctantly off the bed and back downstairs.

They passed through the kitchen, now dark save for a faint glow from the ovens. Etzel was gone and the dining room was empty. There was a bit of strudel on a plate on the counter, and Kit helped himself. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to a place I know-not far from here. You can hide out there until Burleigh leaves. He never stays long.”

The three padded through the darkened coffeehouse, threading among the tables to the front door. Wilhelmina opened it, glanced out, and then beckoned them to follow. She started off across the near-deserted square; Kit and Giles had to scurry to catch up. They crossed the square and headed down a narrow street towards the city gate.

“This place you’re taking us,” Kit said. “Where is it?”

“It’s near the river outside the city,” Mina said.

“How far?” Kit wanted to know.

As Wilhelmina turned to answer him she nearly collided with three men approaching from the opposite