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.”
“Where is he, then?”
“I do not know. Now, now, Petra, don’t erupt into accusations. I thought we agreed you were going to be still, polite, and attentive.”
“The word I used was ‘calm.’ I didn’t say ‘attentive,’ and I never said ‘polite.’ Now, where is—?”
“I truly do not know. I could, however, find out. I certainly can make an educated guess as to where he is. So can you, unless the poison has begun to affect your brain.”
She briefly closed her eyes. “The prince. Salamander Castle.”
“Of course. Though I would probably specify that your father’s location is in the dungeons. If, that is, he is still alive.”
“But you’ll find out, right?” Her voice was desperate.
“Yes. Not now, however. And I will not share that information for free. Next question?”
“I need to know—”
“Next.”
“Answer my question!”
“My presence is doing you more harm than good.” Dee glided to the door and placed his thumb on the latch. “I shall speak with you later. My doctor will be with you shortly.”
“Wait.” Petra stared at the brocade pattern on the arms of her chair, unnerved to see that the design was familiar. Those stitched red flowers had been in her dream. She fought against panic and dizziness. “I need to understand what’s happening to me.”
He nodded. “Yes. It is a topic that interests us both.” He drew a chair forward and sat down across from Petra. “I am a man of great patience, but every admirable quality has its limits. I will appreciate seeing just how calm, attentive, and polite you will be as our conversation continues.”
Petra took a breath to steady herself. “Tell me what those creatures were.”
“The Gristleki. They are more commonly known as the Gray Men.”
“But what are they?”
“An invention. Surely you remember the name Fiala Broshek? Sometime during our stay at Salamander Castle, a man called Karel had the misfortune to be delivered into her hands. Fiala Broshek is a surgeon with a rather interesting set of morals. She decided to use Karel for one of her experiments.
“Your education has been limited, to say the least. So I imagine you’ve never heard of a Shadowdrake, a particular breed of dragon that breathes darkness, not fire. Fiala Broshek paid a warrior to kill a Shadowdrake and collect its blood. She then cut the wrist of Karel, drained him of every drop of human blood, and gave him a transfusion of Shadowdrake blood. This brought the dead man back to life, if life is the word you wish to apply to such a creature. The operation had intriguing effects on the human body, as you witnessed firsthand. The surgeon repeated this operation with several other subjects.”
“How did you get this information? From spies?”
“Just so. Are you interested to learn how I saved you from the Gray Men?”
She nodded.
“I decapitated them,” he said.
Her jaw dropped.
“That means that I cut their heads off,” he added.
“I know what it means!” Remembering the speed of the Gray Men and their burning touch, she said hesitantly, “All four of them?”
He smiled.
His message sank in. However terrifying the Gray Men were, John Dee was more dangerous. At least four times more dangerous.
She almost dreaded the answer to her next question. “If I’m really in London, how did you bring me here?”
“With the aid of my daughters. Judging by your shocked expression, you don’t think of me as quite human, do you? Yet I am, Petra, and I have a family. My daughters, who are about your age, possess remarkable magic. They can manipulate passageways through space. In less than the time it takes for you to cross a street, I can step from London to Bohemia. Anyone can, anyone who knows precisely where to enter a passageway created by Madinia. She is able to tear Rifts in space. Margaret can close them.”
“So Margaret and Madinia will help me go home.” Petra’s chest felt tight, just like her throbbing arm. “Won’t they?”
“No.”
A numbness crept over her. She couldn’t tell if it was because of the Gray Men’s poison or Dee’s reply. But then Petra remembered something. She was so relieved, she laughed. “Wait. Wait a minute. The night I left Salamander Castle you told me you would grant me one favor. Remember? Well, I want it now. I want you to let me out of here. Send me home!”
“I didn’t save your life for you to toss it away. If you return, you will be hunted down.”
“You promised me! You—”
“Petra.” He sighed. “I already granted you a favor. You called upon me for help.”
“No,” she whispered. “I didn’t call you.”
“Our minds are connected, and I heard when you called. I brought you here, and now you are safe. I promised you one favor. One.”
“But you can’t keep me here!”
“I can and will.”
Petra struggled to rise out of her chair, but could not. She saw her fingers twitch, but did not feel them move.
“Hmm.” Dee tapped a finger against his lips. “Paralysis. Finally. The poison has worked a little more slowly than I would have expected. But then, perhaps the Gristleki prefer to keep their victims mobile for a time. Paralysis does make their sport a little too easy.” He rose to his feet. “Or perhaps you are stronger than I believed.”
“Please!” she choked out. “I just want to go home.”
“You have no home.” He turned away.
Petra’s eyelids slipped shut and the image of the brocade flowers bloomed beneath them, red like the flames that had consumed the house she was born in.