The Celestial Globe: The Kronos Chronicles: Book II (32 page)

Petra studied Tomik. “You’re worried, aren’t you?” she told him. “Not because you think that the globe isn’t here, or that it has nothing to do with me, but because it
is
and it
does
, and you think it’s dangerous.”

Tomik brought his chair down with a thud. “All I know is that the two globes combined would give someone too much power.”

“Enough to die for? Enough to
kill
someone for?” Petra dug Robert Cotton’s title page out of her pocket and spread it on the table. “Look at this:
An Account of My Many Astonishing Voyages
, by Gerard Mercator. Neel, you said that Mercator made the globes. This title page is a copy of a book that belonged to Cotton. What if he had the globe, and was murdered because somebody wanted it for himself?”

“That is an excellent deduction,” said Astrophil. “It is a pity, however, that you are solving the wrong murder. What about your wager with John Dee? What about Thorn?”

“The deaths are connected.”

“How?”

Petra wasn’t sure, but she knew she was right. “Well . . . they were murdered around the same time.”

“Yet they were killed in very different ways,” Astrophil said. “Thorn was poisoned. Cotton was beaten with a blunt object. This does not suggest the work of the same person.”

Then Petra remembered. “Jessie.”

“Pardon?”

“Jessie! She said that Thorn was talking to himself in the Whitehall Palace library. He said, ‘Cotton’s got the globe. I have to tell him. Why isn’t he here already?’ It’s so obvious! Cotton had the Celestial Globe, and Thorn found out. He arranged a meeting to tell someone about it. The guards claim that no one was in the library except Thorn, but let’s say our murderer is well connected—he could have bribed the guards to keep quiet. Or maybe he’s magically talented enough, like Dee, to slip in and out of the library with no one noticing.”

“You don’t need magic to do that,” Neel reminded her.

“The murderer meets with Thorn, hears about the globe, and gives him wine mixed with quicksilver. Thorn’s a drunk. It’s morning, but he’s already had some wine, and wants more. He takes the poisoned cup.”

“But who carries poison around with them?” Tomik asked skeptically.

“I don’t know,” Petra replied, frustrated. “Dee might.”

“Perhaps,” said Astrophil. “However, please try to be objective, Petra. Continue with your explanation of what you think happened.”

There wasn’t much more to say. “After the murderer killed Thorn so that nobody else would know about the globe, he went to Cotton’s house. Cotton gets his head bashed in. The globe is taken—or, at least, the murderer tries to take it.”

“Let me get this straight,” said Tomik. “If we figure out who killed Thorn, Dee won’t try to stop Petra from leaving England, and he will give her information about Master Kronos.”

“That is what he promised,” said Astrophil.

“And this murder mystery is definitely connected with the Celestial Globe,” Tomik continued.

“Seems like,” said Neel.

“Then let’s make a list of everything Ariel said, everything it could mean, and all of our suspects.”

“An excellent suggestion,” said Astrophil. He loved lists.

Neel rubbed his temples. He hated lists.

“So who could have killed Thorn?” asked Tomik.

Petra counted them on her fingers. “John Dee, Francis Walsingham, and Walter Raleigh.”

“What about Dee’s wife?” Neel asked. “She’s got plenty of reason to kill Thorn.”

“She said she didn’t do it,” Petra replied. Then she realized how silly that sounded.

Neel scoffed. “You’re too trusting by half.”

“According to Jessie, Thorn planned to meet a man,” Astrophil pointed out. “Thorn was wondering when
he
would arrive.”

“Just because this Jessie person said so? You’re putting an awful lot of faith in the word of somebody remembering something she eavesdropped. Put Agatha Dee down on the list,” Neel insisted, so Tomik did. He and Petra hunched over the table, and Astrophil walked across the list, imperiously ordering them to add a detail here and there. Neel stretched out on one of the two pallets on the floor. He didn’t know how to read or write, and saw no reason to learn.

“You could at least pay attention,” the spider lectured Neel.

“I am.” He crossed his arms behind his head. “And I’ll prove it. In my humble opinion, you’re all thinking about something in the wrong way.”

“Would you care to elaborate?” said Astrophil.

“Ariel said ‘murder,’ ‘betrayal,’ and ‘assassin,’ and you’re clumping the three together as if they were the same thing. Well, I guess Thorn and Cotton were betrayed, ’cause someone snuffed ’em. And sure, you could say they were assassinated. But when Dee
conjured that air spirit—and believe me, Pet, that was a crazy thing to do. Don’t you know Ariel could have ripped your spine out of your throat?—it was asked about
Petra
.” He faced her. “Dee’s eager to train you. But in what?
Swordplay?
Predicting his moves? That ain’t normal. Those are exactly the sort of tricks you’ve got to learn to kill someone on the sly. What if Ariel wasn’t talking about Thorn or Cotton? What if the word
assassin
means
you
?”

J
OHN
D
EE WAS WORRIED.
He tucked his arms into the belled sleeves of his cloak as Robert Cecil moved to stand by him. Cecil said, “You cannot protect her forever, John.”

“That is for the queen to decide.”

Cecil nodded as best as his crooked back would allow. When the doors to the queen’s reception chamber were opened, Dee and the rest of her councillors filed in.

Seated next to the queen was Prince Rodolfo, who looked up in surprise. When he spoke, his English was perfect. “Your Majesty, surely you do not need your council. My request is such a little matter.”

“Your Highness, my councillors merely honor you with their presence,” Queen Elizabeth replied.

“Of course.” The prince fidgeted in the uncomfortable (if grand) chair next to the queen. “I believe that, somewhere in your great realm, there is a girl—”

“I daresay there are thousands of girls in England. What of it?”

“This particular girl is
mine
. She is Bohemian, which makes her
my
subject. Her name is Petra Kronos, and I ask that she be given to me.”

“
If
she happens to be in my country.”

“She is.”

“Are you suggesting that I
do not know
whether she is or is not?” The queen’s tone was dangerous.

“Certainly you must know,” answered the prince.

“Then you accuse me of hiding her from you?”

The prince looked flustered. “No. But if she is here, I demand that she be turned over to me.”

“Demand?”
The queen turned to her councillors, catching Dee’s eye. “Am I to be ordered about by a stripling boy? You”—the queen pointed a knobby finger at the prince, and it did not shake—“what are you, Prince Rodolfo? A third son. A ruler of a forgettable country. Do you truly believe Emperor Karl will choose
you
to succeed him? Go, you political nothing, and return to make demands of me when there is some possibility that I will listen.”

The prince stood, white with anger. “Then I shall find her myself.” He stalked out of the chamber.

When he was gone, Queen Elizabeth pursed her lips. “The performance is over,” she told her council. “You may leave.”

They stood.

“Dee,” she called. “Stay.”

He approached the throne. The last councillor to leave, Walsingham, threw a glance at them before the doors shut behind him.

“Well?” she asked.

“I am pleased and grateful, of course,” said Dee.

“But?”

He murmured, “You did not need to offend the prince.”

“Indeed. However, to do so amused me a great deal. Now, do you have any news of the Celestial Globe?”

“Soon, Your Majesty. Soon.”

• • •

T
HAT AFTERNOON
, Petra seemed different. Perhaps it was Dee’s imagination, but she appeared to glow . . . with happiness? Yes, he thought so. He allowed himself to hope that she had grown used to life at Throgmorton Street. After all, this was now her home.

Before he could begin their lesson, she asked, “What kind of person would always carry quicksilver?”

Dee was not easily startled, but he was now. He considered. It was best to tell her the truth. She could learn the answer from another source . . . Dee regretted ever having hired Christopher. That had been a bad idea. But where Petra Kronos was concerned, Dee so often made mistakes.

She was waiting, her eyes narrowed.

Dee reached into a pocket and drew out a small vial. He shook it and the silvery liquid inside. “Anyone who spies for the queen carries this, in case of capture and torture. A spy would rather drink quicksilver than tell Her Majesty’s secrets. But, my dear, before you accuse me of Thorn’s murder, I would like you to take notice that my vial is still full.”

“That doesn’t matter. You could have filled it up again.”

“True,” he acknowledged. He decided to let her make the next move.

Again, she did something unexpected. She approached him and, with a humility that really didn’t suit her, said, “I think there’s something strange about the coin we found at Sutton Hoo. Would you look at it, please?” She held it out to him.

He took it. He should have thought twice about how friendly she suddenly seemed, but he inspected the golden coin because he was curious. Because he was also thorough, he took his time.

A peace settled over him, like that feeling just before sleep.

His head snapped up. He saw Petra staring at him with great intensity, and even though Dee knew that this would be yet one more mistake, he laughed.

He tossed the coin, and she snatched it out of the air, looking infuriated.

“Clever girl.” Dee wagged a finger. “Where did you learn that? Not from just anywhere, I imagine. But even if you discovered the
fact
of tricking me into looking at an object that gleams, how would you know the
process
of breaking the mental link? Very few people could teach you that. Or are you improvising? You are, aren’t you?” He added, “How proud you make me.”

That did it. She spun on her heel and slammed the library door on her way out.

A
VISITOR
entered Prince Rodolfo’s residence in London. He joined the prince for dinner, which was delicious and prepared with imaginative flair.

Prince Rodolfo patted his lips with a napkin. “So you still have not found the Celestial Globe, in spite of having killed Gabriel Thorn and Robert Cotton.”

“I will, Your Highness. I just need more time. It must be somewhere in Cotton’s manor. Please—”

“Stop. It hurts my ears when you whine. If you have made no progress on the globe, which is the least you could do for the enormous sum of money I have given you, then let us discuss Petra Kronos. We know where she is, but she has to be taken without giving Queen Elizabeth any cause to take offense.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” said Francis Walsingham. “I have a plan.”