“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.
“What is this?” Matthew bellowed, steadying me so that I could locate the mop’s handle.
“His name is Lobero. Gallowglass says he will grow into a great beast and that he might as well have a saddle fitted for him as a leash. Annie loves him, too. She says he will sleep with her, but I think we should share. What do you think?” Jack said, dancing with excitement.
“The wee mop came with a note,” Gallowglass said. He pushed himself away from the doorframe and strolled over to Matthew to deliver it.
“Need I ask who sent the creature?” Matthew said, snatching at the paper.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Gallowglass said. His eyes narrowed. “Did something happen while you were out, Auntie? You look done in.”
“Just tired,” I said with a breezy wave of my hand. The mop had teeth as well as a tongue, and he bit down on my fingers as they passed by his asyet-undiscovered mouth. “Ouch!”
“This has to stop.” Matthew crushed the note in his fingers and flung it to the floor. The mop pounced on it with a delighted bark.
“What did the note say?” I was pretty sure I knew who had sent the puppy.
“‘Ich bin Lobero. Ich will euch aus den Schatten der Nacht zu schützen,’” Matthew said flatly.
I made an impatient sound. “Why does he keep writing to me in German? Rudolf knows I have a hard time understanding it.”
“His Majesty delights in knowing I will have to translate his professions of love.”
“Oh.” I paused. “What did this note say?” “‘I am Lobero. I will protect you from the shadow of night.’”
“And what does ‘Lobero’ mean?” Once, many moons ago, Ysabeau had taught me that names were important.
“It means ‘Wolf Hunter’ in Spanish, Auntie.” Gallowglass picked up the mop. “This bit of fluff is a Hungarian guard dog. Lobero will grow so big he’ll be able to take down a bear. They’re fiercely protective—and nocturnal.”
“A bear! When we bring him back to London, I will tie a ribbon around his neck and take him to the bearbaitings so that he can learn how to fight,” Jack said with the gruesome delight of a child. “Lobero is a brave name, don’t you think? Master Shakespeare will want to use it in his next play.” Jack wriggled his fingers in the puppy’s direction, and Gallowglass obligingly deposited the squirming mass of white fur in the boy’s arms. “Annie! I will feed Lobero next!” Jack pelted up the stairs, holding the dog in a death grip.