Putty and I spent the next few hours quizzing as many of the museum’s curators as we could, but even though a few had seen Rothan Gal in the museum, no one had seen what had happened to him and no one seemed to have noticed the man with the broad hat who had been watching us in the gallery.
When we got home, Olivia was waiting for me in my bedroom.
“There you are,” she said as I pushed the door open. “You missed all the excitement.” She was sitting on the chair next to my window, reading a letter, which she folded up quickly when I entered. Another letter from Freddie, I guessed. I had no idea what he found to write about so often. Certainly it wasn’t about catching the elusive Dr. Blood.
I shrugged off my jacket. “You have no idea,” I said. “What happened?”
Olivia grinned. “Mrs. Lewis called on Mama.”
I groaned. Mrs. Lewis, of all people. Whenever Mama’s biggest rival called, it was always a disaster. “What happened this time?”
Olivia’s grin widened. “We’re going to the ball.”
“Good luck with that.” I didn’t know what Olivia was smiling about. “I thought you hated balls?”
“You and Putty are coming, too.”
I gaped. “I beg your pardon?” How on Mars were we going to the ball? Children never went to balls. They were strictly for adults. “How did we get invited?”
“Oh, we didn’t. Mrs. Lewis was crowing about being invited to more events than Mama, so Mama said we’d been invited to Lady Harleston’s ball, and Mrs. Lewis said, ‘Oh, everyone’s invited to that,’ and Mama said actually our whole family was invited, including you and Putty, which is ridiculous. Of course, none of us was actually invited at all, but Mama’s not letting that stop her. I hope you like dancing.” She stopped. “Are you all right, Edward? You look pale.”
I felt pale. In fact, I felt paler than a frightened ghost fish in a snowstorm.
“Whose ball did you say it was?” I stammered.
“Lady Harleston’s. You must know of her.”
“Oh, yes,” I croaked. “I know of her.” Only too well. After all, I’d stared right into her face just last night as she’d bellowed thief down at me. “Do we have to go?”
“Are you going to argue with Mama?”
No one argued with Mama. Not when she was on one of her missions. I could have my leg torn off by a sea serpent and Mama would still make me go. She’d just make me hop.…
Maybe it would be all right. Maybe Putty and I could keep out of Lady Harleston’s way. Maybe we could wear disguises. Maybe she wouldn’t recognize us after all. She wouldn’t expect to see a pair of thieves turn up at her party. Would she?
Oh, God. This was not going to end well.
* * *
When I’d seen Lady Harleston’s grand town house last night, it had been in shadow, lit only by the stars and the glow of the Martian moons and with a thief shinning her way down a rope. Now, though, it was almost as bright as day. Photon emission globes in dozens of colors, floating on balloons or swooping about on small spring-powered propellers, filled the air above it, and thin laces of light had been strung over the whole façade.
When we’d uncovered the dragon tomb, it had been lit by webs of these glass fibers. It hadn’t taken Papa long to unlock their secrets, and within months his new manufactory at the edge of Lunae City had begun to churn them out. Now they were the latest fashion, and Lady Harleston was clearly trying to outdo her social circle with this display.
Our automatic carriage waited in line with two dozen others to draw up to Lady Harleston’s house. It would have been quicker to hop out and hurry along the street on foot, but apparently that would have been a dreadful breach of etiquette. Although, turning up without an invitation and with your children in tow was apparently all right in Mama’s book.
No, I didn’t understand it, either.
“Lady Harleston is supposed to be ridiculously rich,” Olivia said from the other side of the carriage.
“Olivia!” Mama said, fanning herself. “That is entirely improper.”
“Everyone says she inherited a fortune from her late husband,” Olivia continued. “Although they also say that her husband lived like a pauper, which either means he was squirreling his fortune away or that she has another source of income that no one knows about.”
“Olivia!” Mama snapped. “Enough!”
Olivia winked at me. “Forgive me, Mama. But did you hear the news? Lady Harleston’s house was broken into last night. Thieves raided her study and stole her Ancient Martian artifacts.”
“That is not a proper topic for conversation,” Mama said. “Thieves, indeed!”
“She’s offered a reward for their capture and the return of her property,” Olivia went on, unbowed. She grinned at Putty. “I’m surprised you’re not already out hunting down the perpetrators.”
“Parthenia will do no such thing while she is my charge,” Miss Wilkins said coldly. She was sitting as straight as a rod opposite Putty. “She might have been allowed to run wild while under the care of others, but I am quite a different proposition. It is not in me to indulge such nonsense. A young lady does not speak without first being spoken to. She does not leave the house unaccompanied and without permission. She does not fill her mind with mechanisms or science. She sews. She plays music. She sings. She dances when asked to. She engages in polite but inconsequential conversation. I will make a proper young lady of Parthenia.”
Mama nodded approvingly.
Putty gave me a pleading look. I cleared my throat awkwardly. “Did it say anything about the thieves or what they took?”
“Just a description,” Olivia said. “There were two of them. Children, the witnesses said.”
“I do not know what their parents could be thinking,” Mama said, with a sniff. “I have always believed that a firm hand and a necessary intolerance will soon put an end to such nonsense. You may see the results in Jane.”
Jane’s cheeks reddened and her gaze dropped.
“You are so right, Mama,” Olivia purred. She pulled out a flier. “The older thief is described as about twelve years of age, with light brown hair and a nondescript face. It says the younger was ratty and pinched of face.”
“Ratty?” Putty squawked. “Edward, that’s—”
I kicked her.
“Do you recognize the description?” Olivia asked sweetly.
“No,” I said.
“Indeed, why should we recognize such miscreants?” Mama said.
She drew herself up as the carriage moved forward again. If it hadn’t been for the nervous flutter of her hands at her waist, I would never have guessed she wasn’t as confident as a king. Her fan trembled against her reticule.
We were almost at the steps of Lady Harleston’s house now. Even though this was all Mama’s fault, my stomach tightened in sympathy. There was no way we would be allowed in. All the ladies in Mama’s social circle would be there to witness it. She would be humiliated.
I had no idea how she would stand it.
With a deep breath, Mama swept out of our automatic carriage, followed by Papa and the rest of the family. All around, carriages and personal fliers were disgorging beautifully dressed guests. I felt shabby and drab by comparison. Right at the foot of the steps, I saw the Chinese consul and his retinue making their way up to the wide-open front door.
I’d managed to persuade Putty to wear a too-large bonnet to cover her features, and I’d found the largest hat I could to shade my face from view. I tugged it lower and hoped I wouldn’t run into Lady Harleston.
Mama surged through the press, pulling us in her wake like flotsam caught in the wash of a big ship. Putty was complaining of something behind me, but I shut out the noise.
We took our place in the line making its way up the steps.
“Professor Sullivan, Mrs. Sullivan,” Mama announced to the butler standing at the top of the steps. “And children.”
A titter ran around the crowd at that last bit. I stared straight ahead.
The butler looked impassively down at Mama. “I am sorry, madam. Your names are not on the list.”
Mama reddened, but she stood her ground. “Then your list is incorrect. Lady Harleston herself expressly invited us. Please check again.”
The conversations around us quieted to excited whispers. I could feel dozens of eyes on us. I bit my lip and forced myself not to reach out to support Mama. A nest of claw-worms churned in my stomach. Mama’s shoulders were rigid.
The butler did not move. “I would remember, madam. I must ask you to leave.”
“Do you not know who I am?” Mama said, her voice cracking on the last word. “I am a personal friend of—”
“If you were invited, madam, I would know who you were.”
My nails bit into my hands as we stood there, immobile. Everyone was looking at us. I could hear laughter like breaking glasses around us. If I could have sunk into the ground, I would have.
Still Mama didn’t move. I wasn’t even sure she could.
The butler raised a hand, and a couple of footmen moved forward. We were going to be thrown out bodily. The humiliation in front of the whole of Lunae City society would kill Mama. She already looked ready to shatter.
“Is that Professor Sullivan?” a voice called from the doorway.
I glanced up. Lady Harleston had appeared to investigate the disturbance. I scarcely recognized her from last night. Her long hair had been elegantly pinned up, with curls falling to either side of her face, and she was wearing a bright green gown. I quickly looked down to hide my face beneath my hat.
“Madam,” Papa said stiffly.
“I have been meaning to consult with you, sir,” Lady Harleston said. “I have come into possession of some particular artifacts that I am struggling to understand. I had hoped to ask for your assistance.”
Papa bowed. “I am at your service, madam.”
Lady Harleston waved a hand. “Then please come in. We are having a ball. I am sure your family will find it diverting while I show you my devices.”
The footmen stepped back. I had to grab Mama’s elbow to support her as her knees gave way.
It was her only moment of weakness before she straightened her spine and stepped past the butler, barely favoring him with a look.
* * *
The ball was already a mill of noise and light. Dozens of guests drifted from room to room, admiring the displays of Ancient Martian artifacts. A delicate flier hung from the ceiling of the entrance hall, suspended by wires. Half a dozen wings spread, as fragile and glittering as dragonfly wings, above a scooped body. In one corner, one of the original, hulking automatic servants stood, its innards laid open for the guests to poke at.
I found a secluded corner and dragged Putty into it.
“Stay here and keep your head down,” I told her.
Miss Wilkins settled close by, just out of earshot, and fixed Putty with an unwavering gaze.
“I want to see Lady Harleston’s collection,” Putty protested.
Papa was already accompanying Lady Harleston up the grand staircase.
“If she catches sight of you, the only thing you’ll see is the inside of a militia cell, and believe me, that’s not much fun.”
“She’d have to catch me first,” Putty said.
Olivia slid in beside us. “I see you’ve found somewhere to hide.”
“Shouldn’t you be dancing?” I said.
“Jane will dance enough for all of us.”
“If you two are going to talk about dancing and romance and suchlike all night, I’m going to be sick,” Putty said.
Olivia stuck out her tongue. “You wait three or four years. You’ll be worse than Jane.”
Putty glowered back. “No, I won’t. I’ll be a sailor on Captain Kol’s boat. Or maybe I’ll join the British Martian army and fight Napoleon.”
“You’ll only be thirteen.”
“I’ll be almost fourteen. I think I’ll be a captain. I’d be jolly fierce, and my company would capture every one of the emperor’s eagles. So there.”
“Except Napoleon is not going to invade Mars,” I said. “The only way here is by the dragon paths, and the Martian governments have surrounded them with gun platforms. His ships would be blown to pieces.”
Putty gave me a furious look. “If I were Napoleon, I could figure out a way past the gun platforms.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not,” I said.
Olivia looked down. “Let’s talk about something else, shall we?”
Her voice had shaken and she looked nervous. Her hands were clasping and unclasping.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing. I’m just worried about Freddie.”
I peered at her. “Why?”
She looked away. “He’s on Earth. In England. Napoleon might not be able to invade Mars, but he will invade England. When you start talking about the emperor, all I can think is about Freddie getting caught up in the war. I couldn’t bear it.”
I frowned. “What’s he doing in England? Did Dr. Blood flee to Earth?”
Olivia glanced around and her voice dropped. “The British-Martian Intelligence Service gave him a new assignment. They said Dr. Blood wasn’t a priority anymore.”
I knew I must be turning red, but I couldn’t help myself. “Not a priority! He killed people. He almost killed us!”
“I know. Freddie didn’t have a choice. He kept going as long as he could, but…” She shrugged helplessly. “He said he’d get someone to keep an eye on us in case Dr. Blood came back.”
“Well, it doesn’t look like his friend has turned up,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
If anything, Olivia looked even more miserable. “I couldn’t. You know his missions are secret. He shouldn’t even have told me. He made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone else, but I’m worried, Edward.”
“Freddie can look after himself,” I said. “Anyway, he’s a spy, not a soldier. There’s no reason for him to get involved in fighting.”
Olivia’s head drooped. “I hope you’re right. I really do.” She looked back up. “Edward, Putty. You must mention nothing of what I said. Do you understand? Freddie’s mission is top secret. I shouldn’t have said anything to you, and you mustn’t repeat it.”
“I am excessively good at keeping secrets,” Putty said. “Edward never knows what I’m up to.”
I stood. “Don’t worry about it. Really. He’ll be safe. Now, I’m going to find something to eat.” I glared back at Putty as I made my way through the crowd. “Don’t move.”
* * *
The party had spread beyond the ballroom. Loud groups stood in every hallway and room. Automatic footmen moved almost silently, driven by the flat springs in their chests, carrying drinks, but I couldn’t see food anywhere. Putty and I had missed lunch while we interrogated the museum curators, and Mama had hurried us so quickly through dinner I’d hardly had a chance to snatch a roasted stemfruit before the automatic servants had cleared it all away again. My stomach rumbled so loudly I should have been able to detect food through echolocation, like a bat.
I headed for the back of the house. Maybe there would be a way down to the kitchens.
The sounds of the party faded away. Apart from the odd echoing laugh or shout, and the faint music from the small orchestra in the ballroom, this part of the house was silent. Even the clockwork moths that flitted endlessly back and forth, carrying messages among the partygoers, were absent. I poked my head into various darkened rooms, even rooting around what looked like a private dining room, but there was nothing.
Eventually, though, I came across a narrow servants’ door that opened onto darkness. I peered into the gloom, trying to see if it led down to the kitchens. If I didn’t get something to eat soon, I’d start gnawing on my own arm.
Yes! That was the smell of something baking. I licked my lips hungrily.
A single footstep sounded behind me, then a hand shoved me so violently I fell through the doorway. I stumbled, almost losing my footing. Steep, shadowed stairs dropped away before me. I teetered, grabbing for support, but before I could, more hands grabbed hold of me and pushed me back against the wall. My head bounced off the plaster, sending stars shooting across my vision.
I tried to pull my arms free, but someone was holding them. I blinked furiously to clear my eyes.
When I could see again, Lady Harleston was staring impassively down at me. Two of her footmen stood, one on either side of me, pinning my arms back.
“Well,” Lady Harleston said. “I am impressed. I really had not expected to see your face again. You show courage, if not sense.” She smiled serenely. “Now I have you.”