Neel settled back in his wooden chair and patted his stomach. There was still a very small portion of stew left in his bowl. “That was good. Well, I’d better find the privy. I’ll finish eating when I get back.” He winked.
Petra looked at the bowl and suddenly remembered, as Neel was getting up, the empty pockets he had shown the officer. He started to turn away.
Her hand flashed out and seized one of Neel’s wrists. “You can just go in your trous,” she said angrily. She was sure he was about to leave her behind. He would slip out the back and she would never see him again. She would have to pay the bill and walk out of the Shorn Lamb alone, and wander this crowded, stinking city alone.
Astonished, Neel sat back down in his chair and shook off her grip. He hissed, “What’s the matter with you? Always resorting to a ruckus. You’re attracting attention, jumping around like you’re full of fleas. And that” —he wagged his finger at her—“will always get you caught. Always.”
Petra glared. She was in no mood for a lesson in thievery.
“Listen, I’m sorry,” Neel said. “I’ll let you leave the pub first. It’s harder to leave second, cause then you leave an empty table and folks notice. It’s true it wasn’t decent of me to leave you in second, because I’m more experienced. So you go on ahead and I’ll follow after.” He gestured toward the exit in a manner that might have been called courtly.
Petra felt a little better knowing that he had not been planning to trick her, but she was still troubled. “What about the people who work here? Don’t they deserve pay?”
He sighed. “Maybe those who can’t look after what they got don’t deserve to keep it.”
Neel’s words made her think instantly of her father and his stolen eyes. By Neel’s logic, her father’s blindness was not a cruel torture. It was something he had brought upon himself.
Petra had not cried once since the day her father was brought home in the cart, and she refused to do so in front of this lithe and untrustworthy thief. She had to get out of the tavern. Right then she felt like a sheet of thin paper soaked with dirty water, and just one more drop could make her disintegrate into shreds.
Petra reached for her purse and beckoned to the tattooed woman. “I’ll pay. Just go.”
He stared. Then, to her surprise, he ducked under the table and seemed to rummage for something. Just as the woman reached them, he straightened up and held out a filthy coin. “We’ll go halves.” He smiled at her expression. “Always keep your money in your shoes, Pet. It’s nigh impossible to nick it that way.”
After they had paid, Petra walked quickly through the airless rooms, eager for the open warmth of the sun. Neel was close at her heels. When the heavy pub door slammed shut behind them, he continued to trail after her. She wasn’t sure which way to go, but she didn’t care.
“What’s got you so riled?” he shouted at her as they pushed past a swell of people. It was noon, and the streets of the city were bursting with noise and bustling bodies. “I paid, didn’t I?” When Petra did not respond, Neel’s voice rose in frustration. “Fine, I get it. You got some high-minded ideas about what’s right. That’s because you can afford them. Me, I got a family of fiddlers and puppeteers, and only my sis can get real work because her skin is light enough. So I’ll take what I can get and if that’s stew that’s fine by me. I’m glad that you told the scratch what you did and saved me from a hanging, but I’ve got no need to keep company with some hoity-toity type.”
Petra stopped abruptly. “Then why are you following me?”
Neel spread his hands. “I just happen to be going the same way as you. Aren’t I allowed to go meet my sis? Cause she’ll tear my hide if I don’t.”
Petra did not want to reveal that she did not know where she was going. So instead she asked, “Where are you meeting your sister?”
“Why, at the castle. That’s where she works.”
Petra paused. “Your sister works at the castle?”
“That’s what I said, ain’t it?”
They had stopped in the middle of the street. People milled around them, jostling their sides. “Keep moving!” shrilled a woman with rash-red cheeks.
Neel tugged Petra to the side of the street, where they stood against a wall that smelled of wood rot. Petra asked the boy, “Is Neel your real name?”
“Well, no.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away.
It was as Petra had thought. He couldn’t even be trusted to be honest about the most trivial thing.
He continued, “It’s Indraneel. It means ‘blue.’ But I’m not blue, and ‘Indraneel’ isn’t easy to wrap your mouth around. So it’s plain ‘Neel’ for me.”
Petra then said, “Would you introduce me to your sister?”
11
Crossing Karlov Bridge
THEY SOON REACHED the Vltava River. There they crossed the Karlov Bridge, which was a magnificent construction lined with statues of Bohemia’s heroes. The bridge was brand-new. Prince Rodolfo had commissioned it to celebrate his graduation from the Academy. He had named the bridge after his father. Some might say that this was unnecessary. After all, he had already changed the name of Argos University to Karlov University when he was thirteen or so. But one can never flatter an emperor too much.
Neel had no idea who any of the statues were supposed to be. He confessed that, like many Roma, he couldn’t read, and didn’t know much about Bohemian history. “Who cares about gadje history anyway? My people got better stories.”
Petra had to admit that this might be true. But she gladly told him about the statues. It was rare for her to be in the position of teaching anyone something.
“Who’s that moony-eyed lass?” He pointed to a statue of a woman holding a pail of water high.
“That’s Lady Portia. Eight hundred years ago, people used to burn anyone with magical powers at the stake. She convinced the Tribunal of the Lion’s Paw that this sort of thing had to be outlawed.”
“What’s the Tribunal of the Lion’s Paw?”
“It’s Bohemia’s highest legal court. It’s made up of seven judges, who are picked by the prince. They have almost the final say on any legal matter in the country.”
“Who gets the final say, then?”
My goodness, has he been living under a rock? Astrophil’s words buzzed in her mind.
Don’t make fun of him, she ordered the spider. She told Neel, “The prince. The Lion’s Paw recommends laws to the prince, and he decides whether he likes them or not. After the law was passed, Lady Portia revealed that she herself had magical talent. At first, people thought that she had pushed for the law only to protect herself, but it turned out that her talent was the ability to withstand any heat. She could suck on hot coals like candy. No one would have been able to burn her at the stake anyway, so it’s clear that she fought for the law only out of the goodness of her heart.”
Neel shrugged. “They could’ve drowned her instead.”
Next came Florian, Duke of Carlsbad. “He founded the Academy,” said Petra. “Then he left tons of money after he died to enlarge the school’s castle. They added running water, Turkish baths, a theater, three hot-air balloons, and a lot of other things they keep secret.”
They saw Emperor Vaclav the Clever, who looked shorter than Petra had always imagined. “He’s the reason why you can’t attend the Academy unless you belong to the gentry,” Petra explained. “His tribunal passed that law almost two hundred years ago, when he was only the prince of Bohemia. This led to the Peasant Rebellion, which was basically suicide for the hill-folk. Vaclav flattened the rebel forces. Their surrender was only accepted because they met the most important condition of the agreement: the rebels named everyone they knew with a magical power. Those people were arrested and never seen again.”
“That’s why we Roma live in wagons,” Neel said. “They’re pretty useful for getting well away from a situation that’s gone all kinds of bad.”
They came to the last statue, which was of Em
peror Karl, who looked particularly handsome.
“What’d he do?” Neel asked.
“I think he’s most famous for how he became emperor. When his father the emperor was alive, Karl had one brother, the prince of Hungary. Karl was the prince of Austria. The prince of Hungary and his father loved fried frog legs. One night they ate sixty fried frog legs and drank half a barrel of beer. They were dead the next day. The cook was accused of poisoning them and was executed. Then Karl became the emperor. I guess we’re not supposed to think of that story when we look at his statue. But I can’t remember anything else about him.”
They had reached the other side of the Vltava and began walking up the hill. Neel said that this area of Prague was called Mala Strana. The air was fresher here. The shops had signs that were in writing only, with no pictures. The shopkeepers apparently thought that all their customers could read. Or the shopkeepers did not want any customers who couldn’t read.
A young boy was sweeping up the street trash. The houses had red ceramic-tiled roofs, not ones made of thatch. The walls were painted in many soft colors: pale green, buttery yellow, pink, and sky blue. Stone angels decorated the corners of houses, which had glass in every window.
Petra was awed, but when she commented on how beautiful everything was, Neel just said, “I wouldn’t mind getting inside one of those houses. Bet there’s a lot of shiny stuff to steal.”
I do not feel very well, Astrophil suddenly murmured.
What’s the matter? Are you hungry? Do you want some oil? Petra asked, focusing on the buzz in her mind that she recognized as Astrophil’s presence. Anxiously, she realized that the buzz was fainter than it had been earlier. What was wrong? She had given him his usual dose of brassica oil that morning.
No, I am not hungry. I feel… I do not know. Dizzy, perhaps? I am finding it hard to hang on to your ear.
Petra wasn’t sure what to do. This had never happened before. She wanted to pluck the spider down and carry him in her hand, but Neel was very perceptive. She didn’t want to take the chance that he would see Astrophil.
Just try to hold on a little longer, Petra told the spider. To Neel she said, “Can we go faster?”
“What’s the rush?” He looked at her quizzically. Then he noticed how anxiously she was biting her lip. “Yeah, I guess we could hurry along some.” Their pace quickened.
Astrophil was quiet.
When they reached the castle grounds, Neel pointed out Golden Alley, a row of tiny houses. Neel said that this was where the prince’s foot soldiers lived. Normally, Petra would have giggled at the fact that people were living in homes that looked like painted henhouses. But she barely heard what Neel said.
When they reached an impressive building with three large doors and soaring windows, Petra asked, “Is this the castle?”
Neel laughed. “It’s the stables. One of our Ursari cousins works here. My sis and I usually meet here, so if one of us shows up earlier than the other, we can chat with Tabor.” They stepped inside one of the smaller doors. Petra heard the low snorts of well-fed horses. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw a young woman in a gray-blue dress talking with a broad-shouldered man. Neel waved and rushed over, calling, “Sar san, Pena?” Petra trailed behind slowly, not wanting to jostle Astrophil. The dark-skinned man clapped Neel on the shoulder and then walked away, shovel in hand.
As Petra approached, Neel’s sister seemed to be a dream that she could see with increasing clarity. Her black hair was braided and pinned up in a crown, showing the smooth lines of a slender neck. Her skin was light—not as pale as Petra’s, but a deliciously creamy color. Her eyes tilted up slightly at the corners, and were the shiny color of black lacquer.
Neel spoke rapidly in Romany, gesturing toward Petra. She could hear him repeat one word over and over again: Pena. He seemed to be calling his sister this, so Petra assumed that this was her name. When Neel paused and said in Czech, “This is Petra,” she held out her hand. Feeling proud of herself for understanding part of their conversation, even if it was just a little bit, Petra said, “Hello, Pena.”
Brother and sister broke into peals of laughter. The young woman managed to regain control first and shook Petra’s hand. “Hello, Pena,” she echoed Petra’s words.
“Pena means ‘sister,’ “ Neel said, still snickering.
“Don’t worry, Petra,” said the woman in a musical voice that gave no hint of an accent. “It’s a nice way to be greeted. If everyone thought of me as a sister my life would be a very happy one indeed. My name is Sadira, but you can call me Sadie. After all, we are now like family. Neel says that he stole your purse, but that you didn’t turn him over to the law. I’m not sure which I find harder to believe: that you caught him or that he’s not now rotting in a jail cell.” She frowned at her brother. “You shouldn’t take such risks, Neel.”
“I didn’t!” he protested. “She was easy prey! She was flashing where she kept her purse to all and sundry, and wasn’t paying attention to anything but a beggar girl! If I hadn’t pinched her purse, someone else would’ve.”
“Obviously she’s not such easy prey, if she managed to catch you.”
“But how could I know that?” He spread his hands. “She looked fresh from the hills, like it was her first day in Prague.”
“Well, it is,” Petra admitted. “I’m hoping to find work here.”
“Yes, Neel said you wanted to meet me. He said you seemed interested that I work at the castle. Is there something I can do? I would like to repay you for keeping my little brother’s neck out of the hangman’s noose.” Sadie pinched Neel’s cheek hard and he made a face.
“Could you help me get a job at the castle?”
At that moment, Petra felt Astrophil flutter on her ear. Petra, I—he began. Then he fell, tumbling over her shoulder like a shooting star. Petra snagged him out of the air and stared with a panicky feeling at the spider on her palm.
Sadie and Neel peered in amazement at the spider. “What is it?” Sadie breathed.
“What’s it doing?” asked Neel. The spider’s legs were twitching.
“I think …” Relief flowed over Petra like cool water as she suddenly realized what Astrophil’s problem was. “I think he’s sleeping.”
12
The Clearing in the Forest
CLEARLY, some sort of explanation had to be given. Astrophil was oblivious to the problem he had just caused. His legs continued to wave in the air as he dreamed spidery dreams. Neel reached out to touch one of Astrophil’s legs with his ghost fingers. “What do you mean, he’s sleeping? Looks more like dancing to me.”
Sadie looked up at Petra. “Well? Will you tell us what it—he—is? Or would you prefer to keep your secrets?”
Somehow, the fact that Sadie was offering Petra the chance to put Astrophil in her pocket and not say another word made Petra want to tell them everything. But a stable boy was already looking in their direction with far too much curiosity. “Not here,” Petra said. “Can we go someplace more private?”
Neel spoke to Sadie in Romany. She nodded. “Join us for the midday meal, Petra, if you like. This is my day off. Neel came to walk home with me. These days, we live on the other side of this large hill, down in the forest. There we can talk openly about your silver spider and finding work for you. Come meet our family. If, of course”—for the first time she looked awkward —“you want to.”
Petra tucked Astrophil in her pocket. “Let’s go.”
• • •
THE FOREST ON the other side of the hill was thick, and had provided many generations of Bohemian princes with good hunting. Petra saw several deer as they walked among the trees. Acorns crunched beneath their feet. It didn’t seem to Petra that they were following a trail, but Neel and Sadie strode ahead confidently.
Soon, the smell of burning wood and roasting meat teased Petra. They heard the bell-like sound of a hammer on an anvil. When they reached a clearing in the forest, Petra saw ten large wagons ringed around a cam
pfire. A dog with fanged teeth ran up to them, barking. He licked Neel’s and Sadie’s hands. Petra stood stock-still while he sniffed hers.
Several children wearing brightly dyed clothes were clustered in a group near the campfire, building a house out of stones, sticks, and tree bark. A woman in a full-skirted orange dress was roasting a haunch of venison on a spit over the fire. She looked at them with surprise, and seemed to ask Neel and Sadie a question.
The musical ringing stopped, and a muscular man with a short beard and a gold hoop in one ear appeared from behind a wagon. He held the hammer in his lowered left hand. His intense stare swept over Petra. Then, ignoring her and Neel, he turned to Sadie. He was smiling, but something he said made her face pinch with anger. She replied shortly and stalked to the largest wagon. She opened the door and stepped inside, slamming it shut behind her.
The man looked at Petra with open hostility. Neel said something to him in a voice that was amused but not nice. The man shrugged as if to say, “It’s your problem, then,” and sauntered away. They soon heard again the ringing of metal on metal, but this time the beats were quicker and louder.
“What was that all about?” Petra asked Neel.
“Emil ain’t happy you’re here.”
“I could’ve figured that out on my own. What did he say to Sadie to make her upset?”
“He called her a rawnie”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means a lady, very high-class.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Yeah, but you use it to mean an outsider. Sadie’s father was a gadje, you see. Normally there’d be problems with her being fully accepted by any tribe except the Kalderash, because they’re all mixed up anyway from the start. But our ma’s the leader, so everyone’s got to treat Sadie like she’s one and the same as a full-blooded Roma.”
“Your mother’s the leader of the Lovari?”
“Are you kidding? Look around: there’s thirty-nine of us here. Well, not now. Most of us are working in the city. Some are hunting or gathering mushrooms and nuts and berries. Thirty-nine isn’t the whole Lovari tribe. My ma’s just the leader of our group.”