The Celestial Globe: The Kronos Chronicles: Book II (4 page)

But at least Tomik had been promoted from being his father’s apprentice. He was now a journeyman. The blue badge stitched with red flame had been Master Stakan’s birthday gift to his son.

The next morning, Tomik had pinned the badge over his heart. But when his mother began cooing over him, Tomik felt as if his secret hopes had been found out. He tore the badge from his apron.

Yet on that foggy morning at the end of December, something made him fish out the scrap of cloth from the box under his bed. He knew he would be alone in the shop for the entire afternoon, as the rest of his family had errands to run. But maybe somebody would stop by . . .

When Petra opened the shop door at the Sign of Fire, Tomik couldn’t help wondering if maybe the journeyman badge pinned to his chest made him look different after all.

Petra mumbled a distracted greeting, and Tomik’s smile sank.

She sat down at the worktable next to the fire, which was burning with brassica oil, and shifted the invisible sword so that the hilt wouldn’t jab her side. She laid the tin sheet on the bench.

An enormous metal dog burst into the room. Atalanta ran up to Petra and began snuffling the girl all over.

“Attie, behave yourself!” Tomik ordered.

“Where Astro?” Atalanta panted, showing knife-sharp teeth. Her silvery tongue hung out of her mouth.

The spider walked down Petra’s arm and stepped onto the table. “You should say ‘Where
is
Astrophil?’ ” He raised a leg and shook it at Atalanta. “You are old enough to learn how to speak properly.”

“Astro!” The dog pushed her nose against the spider.

Astrophil shrank away.

“She’s just trying to lick you,” Petra said.

“May I point out that her tongue is five times the size of my entire body?”

Tomik poured green brassica oil into a large bowl and set it down in the corner of the workshop. “Come here, you great big hunk of tin.”

Atalanta slurped up the oil, green drops scattering around the bowl.

Petra looked at the pile of sand in a pan next to the fire. “What are you making, Tomik?”

“Wineglasses. I’d love to get my hands on some pure white sand. When you heat up white sand you get the clearest glass in the world. Not like that dull tan stuff there. But your father gave me iron oxide to add to that batch, which should turn the glass a decent red. If you can’t make glass clear, you might as well make it colored.”

“You don’t seem too excited about it.”

“The glasses will be pretty, but they won’t be
special
. Know what I mean?”

Petra leaned forward. “Have you made anything
special
lately?”

Eagerly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out something shaped like an oval pebble. He set the glass object on the table with a small thunk.

Petra picked it up and turned it in the light of the fire. It was almost clear, but held a tint of light blue. It shone more brightly than normal glass. “What is it?”

“Guess.”

After swearing Tomik to secrecy, Petra had told him about her ability to speak silently with Astrophil. Sometimes she regretted this, because Tomik was so excited that she had a magical talent that he often pushed her to use it. Like now. Petra looked at Tomik, wishing that he hadn’t challenged her on this morning, of all mornings, when it seemed like she wasn’t able to do anything
right. She rolled the stone between her fingers, conscious that both Tomik and Astrophil were watching her. Closing her eyes, she focused on the slippery glass. She felt something flutter in her mind. “Lead?” Petra opened her eyes. “Is there lead in the glass?”

“Got it in one guess! Watch this.” Tomik took the pebble from her and squeezed his hand around it. When he opened his fist, the glass radiated with light. “I call it a Glowstone. All you have to do is squeeze hard, and the warmth of your hand will activate the lead inside the glass. The longer you hold the Glowstone, the stronger its light will be. It’ll be great for exploring caves, don’t you think? Here.” He handed her the Glowstone. “Keep it. I made others.”

Petra put it in her pocket.

Atalanta ran back toward Tomik and Petra. When she reached the table, her long, wagging tail knocked against the tin sheet. It clattered to the floor.

Tomik noticed the sheet for the first time. “What’s that?”

“Father told me to bring it. He said you needed it.”

“For what?” He picked it up and inspected it. “For float glass?”

“I guess.”

“But float glass is used for making windows.”

“So?”

“Our windows haven’t sold well lately. We’ve got a huge stack of them in the back. We definitely don’t need to make any more.”

Petra furrowed her brow, confused.

Then, suddenly, she seemed to hear a horrible scream. It came from far away, but pierced through her.

The Gray Men were howling with pleasure. They had easily captured one of their prey, and they were sure the other one was close at hand.

Petra gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Tomik asked. Petra’s face was pale.

“Don’t you hear it?” she cried.

“Hear what?” Tomik said.

“I do not hear anything.” Astrophil frowned.

Atalanta whined, bewildered.

Petra stumbled to her feet. The howling stopped. In that first moment of silence, Petra stared at the tin sheet and realized something: her father had lied to her.

She sprang for the door.

As she raced out of the Sign of Fire, a silvery line trailed from her back. Astrophil clung to the end of the web, pulling himself up as quickly as he could, hoping that they would be too late.

E
VEN BEFORE
Petra reached the edge of town, she saw smoke. She shoved past people on the street. When she burst through the last ring of houses, she saw the Sign of the Compass. It was burning.

She was only a few feet from her home and calling for her father when the first of the Gristleki slipped onto its two feet. Three more Gray Men oozed out of their crouched positions. Petra had seen nothing but the flames and didn’t notice the Gristleki until they moved.

She skidded to a stop, and the four creatures slithered toward her, their claws squealing against the cobblestones. They could have seized the girl immediately but moved slowly because they liked it. They savored the fear that would freeze her face as they grew closer.

The Gristleki were the color of ash, and covered in scales. Their skin was dry and cracked, as if something had sucked the fluids out of their bodies. But the most horrifying feature of the Gristleki was their shape. It was human. Even though they looked like skeletons with snake skin stretched over the bones, and even though claws sprang from their hands and feet, the creatures
looked like they had once been men. Four scaly skulls slipped closer to Petra. Their faces had no lips. They had no eyebrows or eyelashes, as if they had been burned away. But their eyes were human.

One of them opened its toothless mouth, and Petra stared into the black hole. She tried to move, but her legs were rooted to the earth.

“Petra!” Astrophil was shouting in her ear. “Listen to me: you have to run. Do you hear me?
Petra!
” He gripped her earlobe so hard that blood trickled down her neck.

She took a step backward. The second step was easier.

A Gristleki smiled, showing its gums.

The other Gray Men had already borne away their first prey. That had been far too easy. These four hoped that the girl would put up more of a fight. They all smiled now encouragingly.

Petra had only two options: the forest or the town. Even in her fear, she couldn’t lead these monsters to the homes of people she had known all her life.

She sprinted for the trees.

The Gray Men watched until she disappeared. Then they dropped to the ground and began to race on all fours. They poured after her like liquid poison.

Petra’s heart pounded hopelessly in her ears, and every breath she took ripped at the back of her throat. She tried to run faster, but her legs were hot and weak. She stumbled.

A hand seized her. It spun Petra around, rasping up her arm. She stared at the scaly claw as it scraped along her skin, tearing ribbons of blood. The creature opened its mouth and its tongue slipped out. The Gray Man could smell the stink of fear. It looked at the girl’s throat, where sweat mingled with a thin line of blood. Then it leaned forward and licked Petra’s neck.

Something inside her snapped, and she began to scream. Petra
felt like she was splitting apart, and with all of her heart and mind she cried,
“HELP! HELP ME!”

For the first time in her life, Petra fainted.

W
HEN SHE
regained consciousness, she was lying on her stomach and her face was pressed against something soft. Her left arm and the side of her neck burned. She felt something twitch on her shoulder blade, shifting under her cloak: Astrophil.

She opened her eyes, lifted herself onto her elbows, and saw that she was on a large velvet bed. She murmured, “Where am I?”

Before Astrophil could reply, a voice said, “You’re in my home.”

Petra knew that voice. She spun around in shock.

“You’re in London,” said John Dee. “You’re safe.”

L
ONDON
?” Petra cried. “What do you mean, I’m in
London
? I’m dreaming, right? If you’re here, then I must be dreaming.”

“I am afraid you are not,” Dee said, standing several feet from the bed, tall and inscrutable.

“Explain to me what’s going on!” Petra exploded. “What am I doing here? Where is my father? What were those . . .
things
?” She was ashamed when her voice broke.

“Impatient as ever, I see. The answers to your questions can wait. Your wounds cannot. They should be seen to first, my dear.”

“I am not
your dear
!”

She jumped to her feet and ran to the door. She yanked at the handle, but the door wouldn’t open. She glared over her shoulder.

Dee had not moved. He regarded her coolly.

“Let me out.”

“Not in your condition.”

“My condition?” she asked warily.

“You have been poisoned by the touch of the creatures that attacked you. You will probably die. You certainly won’t do yourself any good with your theatrical hysterics. This will only cause your heart to beat more quickly, which will pump the poison
through your bloodstream. Who knows,” he said idly, “how long you will last?”

Petra, please sit down,
Astrophil said.

He can’t be telling the truth. It is
not possible
for me to be in London. It would take months for me to travel to England! So I’m supposed to believe him when he says I’ve been poisoned?

I believe him. And you
are
in London.

She was stunned into silence.

Petra
, the spider continued,
I saw everything that happened while you were unconscious. John Dee did indeed save your life. Having done that, it would not be rational for him to harm you now, and he is clearly interested in doing you some good. You cannot risk the possibility that he is correct about the danger your wounds pose.
His voice shook.

She looked at her torn forearm. The gashes throbbed, just like her neck. Her entire left arm felt tight, swollen.

She faced Dee. “All right. How about this: I’ll be calm, but I want answers.”

“A bargain? You are in no position to negotiate anything. Perhaps I do not wish to answer your questions. Perhaps I do not care whether you are calm or not.”

“You care,” she stated. “You’re just being tight-fisted with information. Like always.”

He tilted his head, considering. “Very well. I agree to your bargain. Sit.”

She sank into an overstuffed brocade chair. She wouldn’t have admitted it, but she was glad to sit. Her head was swimming.

“Is my father in London, too?” she began.

“No.”