Kelley chuckled. Some alchemist’s trick, turning tea into wine. Then he remembered his New Testament and frowned. A similar trick, but it was water turned to wine, not tea. No, that was something beyond mere alchemy.

Not for the first time or the last, Kelley wondered if his work here at Rudolph’s court wasn’t in fact a terrible, terrible idea.

Did Kelley even believe in all that trumped-up mumbo jumbo? Basic mind tricks and sleight of hand to dupe the simpleminded rabble. Wasn’t it? And anyway, it was better than pushing his mystic heal-all and bowel remedy back in Ireland, wandering from village to village, putting on his wizard act. Not that he’d actually been swindling anyone. Not really. Fish oil and beet juice and a few other special ingredients. It really had been quite a good remedy for constipation. It just hadn’t been what anyone would normally have thought of as alchemy.

So when Dr. Dee had said he’d needed a pair of good hands for something special in Prague, well, the offer had been timely, seeing as there had been this pregnant farm girl in Cork, and, well, it had been a fine time to take a long, long trip.

Kelley choked down two more sips of tea, then gave up. After sundown he’d trot to the bottom of the castle steps and settle into his favorite pub. Sometimes he’d get too potted to make it back up again. There were quite a few steps, and it was steep going.

He opened his chest, wondering if he still had a flask hidden somewhere. He’d all but given up when a knock at the door startled him.

“Yes?”

The door creaked open, and Dr. Dee entered. He wore a ridiculously ornate doublet, and the sleeves of his shirt sported intricate braiding. His shoes were so shiny that they hurt Kelley’s eyes. The expression on Dee’s face was the worst-sort of a tight, haughty, contemptuous snarl. Dee could definitely benefit from some fish oil and beet juice.

“Good God, Edward, it smells like ass in here.”

Kelley admitted to himself he was overdue for a bath, and the room was lousy with his dirty laundry. Still, Dee needn’t have been so rude. More than anything, Kelley wanted to ball up his fist and punch all of Dee’s teeth down his throat. He settled for saying the following:

“Fornicate with yourself.”

“Yes, very amusing,” Dee said, unperturbed. “If you can make yourself halfway presentable, we have an audience with His Highness in twenty minutes.”

Kelley’s eyes went wide. “Rudolph?”

“No,” Dee said. “Another Highness. The king of the pixies has summoned us to a banquet. Of course Rudolph, you fool.”

“But why?” Kelley had only met Rudolph once, when he’d come with Dee to Prague. Kelley had stood behind Dee, saying nothing and trying to appear intelligent. There had been no need to meet with the Holy Roman Emperor since then, and that had suited Kelley just fine.

“He’s calling a number of his scientists and scholars together for a counsel,” Dee said. “This might be the big one.”

“You go,” Kelley said. “Tell me what happens.”

“You are summoned as well.”

“I don’t want to go. Tell him I’m ill.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Dee said. “There will be a number of engineers and astrologers. We’re the only two alchemists in the castle, and I intend for us to make a good showing. Comb your hair, for the love of God.”

“The love of God has nothing to do with any of this,” Kelley said.

Dee rolled his eyes. “Spare me your squeamishness. I am not afraid to reach into the abyss where other men fear to look.”

“I hate it when you talk like that.”

“Nevertheless.” Dee sniffed. “I am an expert in my field. And I won’t let peasant religion or any other superstition stem my quest for knowledge. And I will stay on the path for answers… wherever that path might lead.”

“And what if it leads us to hell, Dr. Dee?”

“Then we shall see what we shall see. But I’d be less worried about hell if I were you and far more concerned with a proper doublet. You look like a common tinker. My tailor dresses better than you. Where’s the doublet I had made for you? The one for formal occasions.”

“I’m not wearing that ridiculous costume.”

“Wear it, damn you.”

Kelley sighed, went into the wardrobe across the room, and came out with a doublet of fine material. It was deep blue, embroidered with yellow moons and stars. Kelley shook his head as he put it on. He stood in front of Dee, spread his arms. “Happy?”

“Placated,” Dee said. “Follow me.”

They spiraled down the stairs and out of the White Tower, Kelley following behind Dee reluctantly as they went down the Golden Lane and through the archway into the main courtyard, where dozens of men labored.

A monstrous construction of gears and flywheels caught Kelley’s attention. “What is that supposed to be?”

“All will be revealed in time,” Dee said.

“You don’t know, do you?”

“Uh… no, actually. Not a clue.”

They strode across the courtyard and into the castle proper. Various dignitaries and lords scurried to and fro. The castle hummed with activity, dozens and dozens of independent projects going like mad, all presumed to come together sooner or later in some kind of grand scheme.

Only a select few knew the ultimate goal of this scheme.

Kelley was in no way one of the select few.

Frankly, he was starting to wish he’d been back in Ireland selling constipation remedy. Spain. He’d always thought about Spain. Maybe Kelley could ply his trade in some of the warmer towns and villages along the Mediterranean. Ah, sun and sea. Kelley shuddered at the thought of winter just a few weeks away. Prague would become white and dead, bitter heavy snow sealing him into the castle for a month at a time.

Tonight. Kelley had a little money stashed away. He’d pack a small bag and slip out of the castle tonight, maybe sweet-talk a fisherman into taking him down the Vltava. He tried to calculate how long it would take him to make his way to Spain. His Spanish was weak, but it would get better living in the place. Kelley had a knack for languages. Already his Czech was passable, and if he did stay, it would be as fluent as a native’s in another three months.

On the other hand, Spain might not be the best place for an alchemist. He’d heard the Inquisition had eased a bit in the last few years, but the thought of getting burned to a crisp as a heretic was enough to put him off Spain.

Sicily. He’d always wanted to see Sicily.

Kelley followed Dee into Vladislav Hall and abandoned all thoughts of sneaking away into the night.

The grand hall was alive with activity, the vaulted ceiling echoing with animated conversation and debate. A line of iron chandeliers hung low, with hundreds of candles spreading warm light. Men stood in groups of twos and threes. Some stood at tables, zealously pouring over elaborate drawings and design plans. A small group of men crowded an alcove, holding a thick, curved disc of glass as big as a dinner plate. Sunlight streamed in through an open window. The beams hit the glass disc, distorted, and splashed the men with rays of color, blue, red, green, yellow.

No, Kelley wasn’t going anywhere. Something amazing was going to happen at Rudolph’s court, and Kelley admitted he was eager to understand. Edward Kelley had been called a swindler, a cheat, a womanizer, and a drunkard. But the small part of him that was the alchemist could not bear the thought that something historical would happen here in Prague and he wouldn’t be a part of it.

So Kelley kept his mouth shut and followed Dee the length of the hall.

The small audience chamber off the far end of the great hall was crowded with dour-faced men. But this was no audience, no diplomatic meeting of politicians and emissaries. This was a working meeting, men with sleeves rolled up, parchments, maps, and drawings spread across the table.