“You were going without me?”
“As if. Whether I told you or not, I knew you’d follow me.”
He arched a skeptical eyebrow. “You did, huh?”
I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. “So, are you coming?”
He followed me without comment, and we made our way to the castle’s grand foyer before a footman greeted us. He spoke in Bonhemmish, but his tone implied obsequiousness, and I presumed he was offering assistance.
“I’d like this sent to Sister Maria at the Katedrála z Vzrostl Syn.” I passed the footman my note. “I hoped he might tell me where we could find the empress’s Magician.”
Gideon translated for me, and the footman said something in reply. He bowed, clicked his heels, and walked away with my note in hand. “He’ll find a messenger for your letter,” Gideon said. “He also said Master Otokar is in the sunroom.”
I glanced around the foyer as if the correct pathway might reveal itself. “I don’t know where the sunroom is.”
“Follow me, m’lady.” He offered his elbow. “I’ll show you the way.”
Together we headed for the main staircase, but instead of climbing the stairs, he swerved, and we followed a hallway leading toward the rear of the castle.
“How do you know where to go?” I asked.
“What kind of personal guard would I be if I hadn’t performed the necessary reconnaissance?”
“When did you have time for that?”
“Last night.”
“I told you to rest.”
“In a strange house among strange people, do you really expect me to let down my guard?”
I puffed a gusty sigh. “Well, promise me you’ll at least eat a decent breakfast. I can’t have you fainting because of an empty stomach.”
He snorted. “Yes, m’lady.”
“And stop calling me that.”
“Yes, m’lady.”
I dug my elbow into Gideon’s ribs as we rounded the corner into an open space glowing with early-morning sunlight. Glass walls and a crystalline roof encased a room furnished in rattan and wicker. The color palette evoked the seaside in the summer: sandy beiges, seafoam whites, and shades of ocean blue. Birds twittered in a floor-to-ceiling cage of scrolling wrought iron painted white. Astonished by their unexpected presence, I stopped to admire their bright feathers and energetic chirping.
Otokar, sitting at a corner table surrounded by potted palms, looked up from a thick, leather-bound book and smiled. “Good morning, Lady Thunder. Sir Faust.”
“Evie,” I said, slitting my eyes at him. “Call me Evie. I insist.”
He set aside his book, picked up his teacup, and gestured to the open seats at his table. “Will you not join me, Evie?”
I wrinkled my nose at his mockery, but took a seat across from him. Gideon pulled out a chair at my right hand and joined us. A servant hurried to bring us each cups of hot steaming tea and plates of toast, jam, and butter. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Otokar asked.
“Forgive me for being direct so early in the morning, but the empress offered her assistance in helping me locate a certain band of Fantazikes.”
Beside me, Gideon silently slathered butter onto his toast. He hadn’t taken my advice about getting plenty of rest, but at least he wouldn’t starve himself.
“Yes, she did.” Otokar slid the jam jar closer to Gideon’s reach. “I remember. So why have you come to me instead of Tereza?”
“What can she do, other than send out messengers? I’ve already done that. But you are a Magician. Can’t you do anything”—I waggled my fingers—“Magical?”
He buried his wry smile in his teacup. After swallowing a sip, he blotted his lips and settled his dark gaze on me. “Something Magical? Perhaps I could.” He slid away from the table and stood. “Come find me after you have finished breakfast. I will be in my workroom. Ask the staff; they will show you the way.”
“I know where it is.” Gideon’s cheek bulged with toast.
Otokar’s eyes hardened. “Very well. Bring your mistress when you are done.” The Magician turned on his heel, and his black robes swirled around his feet as he exited the room. His departure upset the birds. They twittered sharply from their cage in the corner.
“What do you think he’s going to do?” I asked Gideon.
He selected a second slice of toast and smeared it with a thick swath of butter. “I don’t have much experience with Magicians. They never came to Daeg’s estate unless there was a special occasion of some sort.”
“My father didn’t keep a Magician either. We couldn’t afford it, and they were rare on Inselgrau, from what I understood.” Involuntary shivers rippled over me. “Jackie, Ruelle Thibodaux, and that man Daeg hired for the birthright ceremony are my only real experiences with Magicians. Based on that alone, I’m not inclined to believe Otokar should be trusted, no matter how charming he is.”
He scoffed. “You think he’s charming?”
Instead of answering, I reached for the butter and jam. After we reduced the pile of toast to crumbs and scraped the jam jar clean, Gideon and I left the sunroom and climbed the stairs, ascending until we reached the top floor, a level mostly free of furnishings. Our footsteps echoed against stone floors and walls. Instead of gaslights, pale-blue luminaries in tiny glass bulbs hovered several feet off the floor like fireflies marking the pathway.
I reached out to touch one, but Gideon caught my hand and drew me away. “What are they?” I asked. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”
“Not sure. Which is why we shouldn’t touch them.”
Agreeing with his logic, I tucked my hands in my trouser pockets and followed him down the hallway until we reached another short set of stone stairs that landed before a thick wooden door. Gideon knocked, and moments later, Otokar opened the door. He waved us into his workspace, a windowless round room filled with sturdy worktables and overflowing bookshelves. More blue lights floated near the ceiling, and lamps burned scented oil of some rich citrus herb—verbena, perhaps. My nursemaid, Gerda, had often used it in her herbal concoctions for fevers and upset stomachs.
