“We have many answers, do we not, brother?”
“Indeed. Almost a thousand years’ worth.”
“And what sort of students have we here?”
A shining vapor approached Tomik. “A handsome young man!”
“Like in a fairy tale!”
“With sighs and swoons!”
“But, you know, my dear boy,” one said in a serious, wispy voice. “Beauty is a burden. Not every tale ends happily. We know the dark stories, and heroes like you sometimes suffer.”
“We could help him, sister.”
“He doesn’t have to be so smooth and bright.”
“Indeed! Shall we cut him, brother?”
“Or stretch him?”
“Burn him, I think. That will make him better.”
“Stop that!” said Petra.
The four lights flew to her shoulder and clustered around Astrophil, who shrank into the hollow of her neck.
“A cunning machine!”
“Built with gears. Built to last. Built to live forever.”
“Like us!”
“But how will the spider feel, my brother, when he outlives his mistress?”
“Petra,” Astrophil said in a shaky voice, “may we leave, please?”
“And what kind of person is this mistress?” The Metis ignored Astrophil and flew close to Petra’s face.
“Ah,” said one knowingly, “she is the one with the questions.”
“I’ve come to ask you about my father,” Petra said.
“Well, where is he?”
It was difficult for Petra to bring herself to explain. “He was seized by the Bohemian prince.”
“I see.”
“He was taken from you.”
“Or perhaps she lost him, brother,” suggested a Meti. “It is careless to lose your family, and we don’t teach careless girls.”
“I didn’t lose him,” said Petra. “Either I would have gone to prison with him, or would have tried to find some way to free him. Except…” Her fingers lifted to touch the scar that ran from her jaw to the base of her neck. “I was attacked by the prince’s monsters, creatures called the Gray Men. Someone rescued me by pulling me through a Loophole to London. He saved my life, but trapped me for months in England.”
“And who was he?”
“His name is John Dee,” Petra said. “He’s a spy for the English queen.”
“Well, why would he want to keep you? What are you, that you were special to him?”
“I think…” Petra searched for a response, and slowly spoke what she thought was the truth. “He was intrigued by my magical talents. He tried to teach me … maybe because he thought I’d be a useful tool for him. Or maybe because he genuinely wanted to protect me. I’m not sure.”
For a moment, the Metis were silent. Then one whispered, “Did she say talents, brother?”
“She did! But almost no one in the world has more than one magical gift.”
“If, indeed, they have any gift.”
“Which must make her…”
“I’m a chimera,” Petra said. Her gaze lowered to study her feet. “I have two gifts”—she shrugged—“but they’re weak. I have mind-magic, and power over metal.”
“A chimera!”
“How rare!”
“Would you like to join us someday?”
“What a nice addition she’d make!”
“Of course,” said Petra. “Because I want to be a blobby ghost whose body is a dried-up prune.”
“Is that sarcasm, brother?” One Meti turned to another.
“I do not know, sister. I do not remember sarcasm very well.”
“We have used it before, two hundred and fifty-six years ago,” reminded the third ghost.
“Very true!” said the fourth.
“But, now that I think of it, my sister, I recall that sarcasm is not very polite.”
The four ghosts fell silent, and Petra uneasily remembered what Treb had said about the Metis changing people into worms. “I—uh—meant what I said,” she stammered. “No sarcasm here. Who wouldn’t want to be a Meti? Look how, um, pretty you are. You’re so … see-through.”
“Indeed,” one said with satisfaction. “Remember that, young lady, when you think about our offer. Not everyone is worthy of becoming one of us.”
“She has time to decide,” said the hushed voice of the ghost who was curious about death. “And things to do beforehand.”
“She wants to find her lost father,” one guessed.
“Yes,” said Petra, “but it’s complicated. He’s no longer human, exactly.”
“Oh?”
Petra couldn’t speak, so Astrophil explained. “He was transformed into one of the Gray Men.”
“Tell us about these Gray Men.” One of the lights bounced in front of the spider. “We do not know about them.”
“They are also known as Gristleki,” Astrophil said. “They are experiments. Prince Rodolfo collects many things, and he enjoys collecting people, too. There is a woman who works for him named Fiala Broshek, and she has a magical power over the flesh. She found a way to transform people into monsters by emptying them of human blood and giving them a transfusion of blood from a shadow dragon.”
“How clever.”
“It’s not clever!” said Petra. “She changed ordinary people into clawed beasts that run on all fours and suck blood. That’s vile.”
“Ah,” said a Meti, “yet it is clever, too.”
“I don’t care what it is,” said Petra. “I just want to know how to change my father back. Please tell me how.”
The four vapors floated close to one another and conferred in whispers. Then they separated.
“We do not know,” one of them admitted.
“This woman’s experiment is something new,” said another.
“We are experts in what is old.”
“Then what good are you?” Petra clenched her fists. “Why did I travel thousands of miles if you have no answers for me?”
“Perhaps,” said the quietest Meti, “we could offer a suggestion.”
“Oh, you and your suggestions!” laughed a ghost.