That is not true, Astrophil spoke silently in her mind.
“Talking with Astro the way you do doesn’t count, Father. I don’t have your talent. I can’t make metal move just by thinking about it. You know that. We’ve been practicing for weeks.”
“You are still young. It may take some time.”
“I’m not that young. I’m thirteen. Tomik made his first Marvel when he was my age.” Petra pressed her point, even though she hoped to be proven wrong. “In Prague, I thought that maybe . . . that maybe I was more talented than I am. Astrophil and I could talk without opening our mouths. When I picked up a knife, I thought I could feel it inside my mind. But that was my imagination.”
“You broke the clock’s heart.”
“That was dumb luck.”
“You can communicate with Astrophil.”
“But that’s all. If I inherited anything from you, it was just some watered-down version of your magic. Nothing to get excited about. Nothing worth sending someone to the Academy for. I probably wouldn’t pass the entrance test, even if I were allowed to take it.” Saying this somehow stole all of Petra’s anger. Now she felt only cold and wet.
“Come here,” her father said, and hugged her. “You’re shivering. Let’s go home, Petra. We’ll start a fire and warm some milk over it. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
WHEN PETRA and her father reached the Sign of the Compass, it had stopped raining and they were laughing at Astrophil as he tried to imitate a human sneeze.
They didn’t see the sparrow leap from the roof. Astrophil spotted the bird before the others did and hid in Petra’s hair.
The bird dived at them, stopping right in front of Petra’s face. It hovered, screeching.
Astrophil, boomed a voice in the spider’s head.
Master Kronos? Astrophil jumped in surprise.
Keep still. Don’t let Petra know we’re having this conversation.
But why?
Do you remember what we discussed?
Astrophil paused. Yes.
Good. Then go along with whatever I tell Petra to do. See that she does it.
Surely there is no cause for alarm.
Yes, there is, insisted Mikal Kronos. The sparrow.
Nonsense. If the bird poses a threat to anyone, it is to me. It wants to eat me!
No, Astrophil. Something is wrong. It is trying to warn us.
The spider had a sinking feeling in his tin stomach. You are making far too much of the bizarre flight pattern of one bird.
Maybe so. But I can’t take the risk.
If this is a warning of some kind—and I do not agree that it is—will you not be in danger as well?
Astrophil, you gave me your word. Keep it.
“What’s wrong with that sparrow?” Petra stared at the bird as it darted back and forth.
“Nothing,” said Astrophil. “Or, hmm, well, I expect it has mad dog disease.”
“Mad dog disease affects dogs, Astro.”
“Petra,” her father interrupted, “I need you to deliver something to Tomas Stakan. There’s a tin sheet leaning against the wall in the shop. Bring it to the Sign of Fire.”
“Sure. I’ll just change my clothes first. I’m soaking wet.”
“No. Take it to Tomas now.”
Petra was puzzled by her father’s stern expression. “Can’t it wait until later?”
“Can’t you just do as I ask?” he snapped. “For once in your life, do as I tell you!”
Petra felt as if she had been slapped. “Fine!” she shouted. She stalked into the shop.
The bird flew after her, but the shop door slammed shut, the bell jangling. The bird flapped outside the closed door, which soon burst open again. Petra gripped the tin sheet under her arm.
“Goodbye, Petra,” Mikal Kronos said in a softened voice. Although the sword he had forged was invisible, he could tell that it was still buckled around Petra’s waist. He tried not to show his relief. He tried not to show anything that would keep Petra at the Sign of the Compass.
Petra’s lips thinned into a line. She whipped around and strode toward the village. Astrophil rode on her shoulder, gazing back at Master Kronos.
The bird landed on the melting snow and watched Petra storm off. Then it hopped toward Mikal. It cocked its head, scrutinizing the man. It couldn’t be sure, but it thought that its message had been received, even if the man was behaving very strangely. But then, the bird never understood humans, who saved food rather than eating it right away, and whose nests were closed to the sky.
Mikal Kronos went inside the house, returning with a slice of old bread and a dish filled with water. He set the bowl on the ground, crumbled the bread onto the snow, and then walked around to the back of the house. He took a stool from the smithy. He brought it back to where the bird perched at the edge of the bowl, drinking deeply and flipping back its wings. Master Kronos placed the stool beneath the wooden sign with its many-pointed compass, hoping that if the prince seized him, he might not try to find Petra. Mikal sat down to wait.
3
The Sign of Fire
BEFORE PETRA had reached the edge of the village, she wanted to go back and apologize. Why had she overreacted? If her father was angry with her, could she blame him? They were leaving the village he had lived in all of his life. Who was responsible for that, if not she?
She turned around.
Astrophil pinched her ear.
“Ow! Astrophil!”
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Why? That is not what your father asked you to do!”
“Master Stakan can’t need the tin sheet so badly that he won’t be able to wait fifteen minutes more. I just . . . I want to tell Father I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so . . . sulky.”
“But sulking is a great talent of yours. You should practice it. You should continue to sulk.”
“Astrophil, are you trying to be funny?”
“I simply do not see what is to be gained by ruining such a dramatic exit as the one you just made. To return to the Sign of the Compass now, well . . . it would not be artistic. A heroine in a novel would never turn back at this point.”
“Will you quit pinching my ear? That hurts!”
“Very well.” Astrophil leaped to the ground. “I shall go to the Sign of Fire alone. I would like to see Tomik. He is a very intelligent conversationalist. And Atalanta! What a charming dog!”