Someone on the street called out in greeting.”Here is Herr Maisel,” Abraham said. He sounded as relieved as I felt.
Herr Maisel, provider of paved streets and fulfiller of imperial defense budgets, broadcast his prosperity from his immaculately cut woolen suit, his fur-lined cape, and the golden circle that proclaimed him a Jew. This last was affixed to the cape with golden thread, which made it look like a nobleman’s insignia rather than a mark of difference.
“There you are, Herr Fuchs.” Herr Maisel handed a pouch to the vampire. “I have your jewel.” Maisel bowed to Rabbi Loew and to me. “Frau Roydon.”
The vampire took the pouch and removed a heavy chain and pendant. I couldn’t see the design clearly, though the red and green enamel were plain. The vampire bared his teeth.
“Thank you, Herr Maisel.” Fuchs held up the jewel, and the colors caught the light. “The chain signifies my oath to slay dragons, no matter where they are found. I have missed wearing it. The city is full of dangerous creatures these days.”
Herr Maisel snorted. “No more than usual. And leave the city’s politics alone, Herr Fuchs. It will be better for all of us if you do so. Are you ready to meet your husband, Frau Roydon? He is not the most patient of men.”
“Herr Maisel will see you safely to the Ungelt,” Rabbi Loew promised. He leveled a long look at Herr Fuchs. “See Diana to the street, Abraham. You will stay with me, Herr Fuchs, and tell me about Poland.”
“Thank you, Rabbi Loew.” I curtsied in farewell.
“It was a pleasure, Frau Roydon.” Rabbi Loew paused. “And if you have time, you might reflect on what I said earlier. None of us can hide forever.”
“No.” Given the horrors the Jews of Prague would see over the next centuries, I wished he were wrong. With a final nod to Herr Fuchs, I left the house with Herr Maisel and Abraham.
“A moment, Herr Maisel,” Abraham said when we were out of earshot of the house.
“Make it quick, Abraham,” Herr Maisel said, withdrawing a few feet.
“I understand you are looking for something in Prague, Frau Roydon. A book.”
“How do you know that?” I felt a whisper of alarm.
“Most of the witches in the city know it, but I can see how you are connected to it. The book is closely guarded, and force will not work to free it.” Abraham’s face was serious. “The book must come to you, or you will lose it forever.”
“It’s a book, Abraham. Unless it sprouts legs, we are going to have to go into Rudolf’s palace and fetch it.”
“I know what I see,” Abraham said stubbornly. “The book will come to you, if only you ask for it. Don’t forget.”
“I won’t,” I promised. Herr Maisel looked pointedly in our direction. “I have to go. Thank you for meeting me and introducing me to Yosef.”
“May God keep you safe, Diana Roydon,” Abraham said solemnly, his face grave.
Herr Maisel escorted me the short distance from the Jewish Town to the Old Town. Its spacious square was thronged with people. The twin towers of Our Lady of Tyn rose to our left, while the stolid outlines of the Town Hall crouched to our right.
“If we didn’t have to meet Herr Roydon, we would stop and see the clock strike the hours,” Herr Maisel said apologetically. “You must ask him to take you past it on your way to the bridge. Every visitor to Prague should see it.”
At the Ungelt, where the foreign merchants traded under the watchful eyes of the customs officer, the merchants looked at Maisel with open hostility.
“Here is your wife, Herr Roydon. I made sure she noticed all the best shops on her way to meet you. She will have no problem finding the finest craftsmen in Prague to see to her needs and those of your household.” Maisel beamed at Matthew.
“Thank you, Herr Maisel. I am grateful for your assistance and will be sure to let His Majesty know of your kindness.”
“It is my job, Herr Roydon, to see to the prosperity of His Majesty’s people. And it was a pleasure, too, of course,” he said. “I took the liberty of hiring horses for your journey back. They are waiting for you near the town clock.” Maisel touched the side of his nose and winked conspiratorially.
“You think of everything, Herr Maisel,” Matthew murmured.
“Someone has to, Herr Roydon,” responded Maisel.
Back at the Three Ravens, I was still taking my cloak off when an eightyear-old boy and a flying mop practically knocked me off my feet. The mop was attached to a lively pink tongue and a cold black nose.