The Book of Blood and Shadow (40 page)

I assured him that I would, and had it been possible, I would indeed have done so. Kepler, for all his rambling ambitions, spoke as if with my own voice. Even now, I believe that to know how is useless if we do not know why. And there are too many who forbid us to ask
.

Our final task had been completed with ease; the universe had bent to our united will. This was the unspoken hubris between us as we galloped back to Prague, a page of astronomical calculations sewn into the lining of my cloak. We believed we would soon bring the
Lumen Dei
into this world and ourselves to glory, and then as the natural course of events, as simple as water falling from high ground to low, we would be married
.

How it pains me to remember the ease with which we forgot ourselves. Both of us near impoverished; my
Mother depending on me to restore the family to its rightful position; marriage an unthinkable step at this stage of his apprenticeship; an alchemical apprentice an unthinkable match for marriage, at least in the eyes of our Mother. On looking at Thomas, she could see only our Father, and for me, a life of misery and destitution, of empty stomachs and cold prisons. She would, I knew, forbid our union. We could dream of our future, but God had failed to give us the tools with which to build it. These, dearest brother, were the truths we happily ignored on that journey back to Prague, and as we approached the banks of the Vrchlice, only a day’s ride from home, our smiles were wide as the river
.

That is where they found us
.

The first arrow whistled past my ear, but the second found its mark and sank deep into my stallion’s flank. A third and fourth arrow flew, one piercing his eye, the next his long black neck. I was thrown from the horse, thankfully landing a safe distance away from the thrashing beast, and could do nothing but watch his dance of pain and his eventual surrender. Thomas’s horse fell just as swiftly, and I waited to bear the consequences of an ignored warning, waited to die at Thomas’s side, knowing with my final breath that I had stolen his life
.

But no blade was drawn. We were bound and blindfolded, bundled into a ragged carriage and released into a pungent room. Despite the care our captors had taken to ensure our ignorance of the place, I knew it by smell alone. Our Father brought me to Sedlec only once, but the earthy scent of aging skulls is one not quickly forgotten
.

Their efforts gave me hope. Had they brought us here to kill us, I thought, surely they would not have bothered to disguise our path
.

My blindfold was removed, though the binds were not. Thomas slumped in a corner, only the slight movement of his chest reassuring me that his life had been spared. Thus far. Our three captors wore masks
.

—We know what you were doing in Graz. We know what you do with Groot. We want the
Lumen Dei.
And we will pay handsomely
.

There is no
Lumen Dei,
I told them
.

At this, the second man spoke
.

—Not yet. But there will be, and it cannot fall to the Hapsburgs. It would be a crime against the Czech people, and all the peoples of the world who have yet to fall under their blade
.

—A crime against the Lord. The Emperor, despite his denials, will always be a friend to the Church. Their hands will mold a miracle into a transgression
.

If you know of the
Lumen Dei,
and you know of Groot, what need do you have of us? I asked. Take it from him
.

I looked at the third man as I spoke, the one who had stayed silent. Another wasted subterfuge. I knew him even without his low, croaking Czech. I knew his hunched back, as I knew his clomping limp. Václav. Groot’s loyal servant, the only man trusted with Groot’s secrets. If anyone could steal from Groot without my help, it was he. And yet I held my tongue. Václav could not know I had recognized him, or I would never leave his sight alive
.

—It must be you
.

—It will be you
.

—More florins than you could spend in a lifetime
.

—You will deliver it to us by sundown two days hence
.

—Or we will find you, and that will be the end of you
.

I did not ask how they knew the
Lumen Dei
would be ready within two days, for if anyone knew Groot’s progress, it was Václav, and even at that moment, brother, can you believe I felt a thrill of anticipation at the thought of the device come to fruition?

—You need not answer us now
.

—You will answer with your actions
.

—Or you will answer for them
.

They blindfolded us again. The carriage carved an eternal path through the countryside. And then a boot to my gut toppled me to hard ground, and I heard the horses retreat into the distance. They left us there, blind and bound in a darkness that stank of cattle dung. Rubbing my head against Thomas’s shoulder, I was able to remove my blindfold, and, our fingers working together, we managed to set ourselves free. We found ourselves in a crumbling alley. A snuffling cow watched us with blank eyes. The air carried voices to us, eager haggling over the price of cattle and beef. We could be no more than a few blocks from Wenceslas Square. We were not simply alive. We were home
.

Thomas held me. He was shaking. I had done this to him. I had drawn him into this. I had nearly destroyed him
.

I must tell you something, I confessed
.

—And I you. But not here
.

He brought me to the crypt of the Church of St. Boethius, where, he said, he had been baptized and had for many years served the priests in their most menial tasks, stoking fires and patching holes. The priests would protect us, he said. He lit a candle and held me as I told him about the man who had appeared in my bedchamber, the man with the priest’s robe and the knife, who had warned me to turn back
.

I believed the priest now, as I had not before. I would die if I helped the
Lumen Dei
come to life. And, at the hands of Václav and his fellows, I would likely die if I did not
.

I could bear this. The choice, at least, would still be mine. My fate, for the first time in my life, was something I could take upon myself
.

But I could not bear bringing that same fate upon Thomas
.

I held him, in the lowest depths of that dark church, and told him why this had to be our end. He did not argue
.

—There are things you need to know
.

He had brought us to the church so I could hear his confession, and so I did. And as he spoke, I thought of the arrows that had laid down our horses, and I longed to return to that bloody riverbank, to throw myself in the path of the final arrow, to die ignorant, and so, in love. Better to be killed by an arrow than by the words of the one I most trusted
.

Better to be betrayed by my body than by my heart
.

The rest of the letter was torn away.

“It was him,” Adriane said. “The letters you found in Chris’s room. Thomas was the spy.”

“You don’t know that. He could have confessed anything,” I said. “A secret wife. A third nipple.”

“
She has sewn his calculations into the lining of her cloak
, remember? Thomas is the only one who would have known where she hid the formula,” she said, always remembering too much. “It was him. You know that.”

I did. He had brought her to the Church of St. Boethius to confess his betrayal. The same church we had visited on our first day in Prague, the church where an angry priest had given us our first frustrating non-answers about the
Hledači
. It couldn’t be a coincidence. But how could it be anything else? “He loved her,” I said stupidly.

Adriane shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said before anyone could say it for me. “I know. We have a bigger problem.”

She had been so sure he loved her.

“I guess Strahov wasn’t the home away from home she thought it was,” Eli said. “The monks betrayed her.”

“Or someone found it since then,” Max said. “Someone recently.”

“And left the whole thing except for the last piece, then sewed it back up in the binding again?” Eli said. “That seems equal parts elaborate and useless.”

“Crazy people do crazy things.”

“It doesn’t matter who did it,” Adriane said. “It’s done. We’re screwed.”

“Maybe not,” I said. “We have most of what the
Hledači
want, right? We have three out of four pieces—they’ve got nothing. So they should be willing to bargain with us.” If we could find a way to contact them without getting ourselves killed; if we could give them everything they wanted, betray Elizabeth, and reward Chris’s murder, just to save ourselves; if this whole thing hadn’t been a game of make-believe, the pleasant delusion that we could actually win.

“Or they take what they want, kill us, and go on their merry way,” Eli said.

“So then we go to the cops,” Adriane said. “We go
home
. We’ve got evidence now. And we’re telling the truth. They have to believe us eventually.”

“No, they don’t,” I said. “And even if they do, then what? Whoever killed Chris is still out there. Nothing happens to them?”

“The
cops
happen to them,” she said. “What were we really going to do, even if we could get them to trade the killer for the machine? Kill him? Torture him? Ask him for takebacks?”

“It’s so easy for you? To give up?”

She bared her teeth. “I’m not the one who’s forgetting why we’re here in the first place. This isn’t about your precious Elizabeth and her stupid machine. It was supposed to be about saving Max. And finding out what happened to Chris. That’s what matters. To me, at least.”

My chest tightened.

Adriane smoothed back her hair. Amazing how, bereft of her myriad beauty products and alternating between the same three or four pieces of clothing every day, she still managed to look date-night-ready. Whereas I’d reached the point where I was avoiding mirrors for their own safety. “We played a good game,” she said, in a softer voice. “But it’s over. It was always going to end here, one way or another.”

Max put his hand over mine. “She’s right.”

That was when I knew it was over. If Max was ready to give up—Max, who had been more adamant about this fight than any of us, and who had the most to lose—then there really was nothing left.

We had failed.

I looked at Eli. He raised his hands as if in protest. “Party crasher, remember? You don’t need my vote.”

“I want to know what you think.”

“The cops don’t think
he
did anything,” Adriane pointed out.

“They don’t think you did, either,” Max said quietly. “Not really. They’re using you to get to me.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe the
Hledači
set us all up—”

“And maybe we can get the cops to believe that,” Max said. “Or we could try making some kind of bargain, like you said, but it’d be safer to do once we’re back home. If I’m behind bars, at least the
Hledači
can’t get to me.”

I couldn’t think about that.

“You really want to give up?” I said. “We’ll be arrested as soon as we walk into an airport.”

“But at least you’ll be safe.” Max folded the torn letter, running his fingers along its crease. “I did this all wrong,” he said. “Everything. You shouldn’t be here. None of you.”

“You shouldn’t, either.”

“You’re right.”

“So we go home?” Eli said.

“We?” I asked. “I thought you weren’t part of this discussion.”

“You go, I go,” he said. “You tell the cops a story like this, you’re going to need all the witnesses you can get.”

“Then we go home,” Max said.

“Home,” Adriane echoed, and I wondered if the word sounded as strange to the rest of them as it did to me.

38

And then we were alone together.

Max. Me. And everything unnamable that had come between us.

“You’re tense,” he said, kneading my shoulders.

I let him touch me, but I didn’t respond.

“Adriane seems like she’s doing a little better,” he said.

I went rigid.

“Why do you care so much all of a sudden?” I didn’t like the way my voice sounded; I didn’t like how his hands went still on my shoulders, and how the room went so suddenly quiet, like we had both heard a crack and were just waiting for the tree to fall.

“I have to tell you something,” he said, and there was fear in his voice.

I wanted to take it back. Or at least to tell him to stop, to swallow the confession before it was too late.

“So tell me.”

“Turn around,” he said.

“Just say it.” I shouldn’t have to look at him when he did.

“Please,” he said.

I faced him. Max. With his flopping hair and wire-rimmed glasses and unexpected smile. Max, who was supposed to love me.

“I never wanted you to know,” he said. “But Adriane—”

“Just say it.” I could barely force the words out.

He swallowed hard. His face was milky white, like a sick child’s. “I’m glad it was her.”

I didn’t get it.