The Celestial Globe: The Kronos Chronicles: Book II by Marie Rutkoski

Author:Marie Rutkoski [Rutkoski, Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: #genre
ISBN: 9780374310271
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR)
Published: 2009-09-15T04:15:11+00:00

16

The Statue of Life

ATHRILL RAN DOWN Prince Rodolfo’s spine. He read through the letter a second time.

The Mercator Globes!

Suddenly, all of his dreams seemed real enough to touch. Where they had been pale and blurry, they were now rich with color and drawn with strong lines. He would not be Emperor Karl’s youngest, forgotten son, the ruler of an insignificant country. He would become the emperor himself.

He scanned the letter a third time, and smiled when he saw Stan Novak’s signature. The spymaster of North Africa would be well rewarded for discovering that the globes were not just the stuff of legend. In his letter, the spymaster apologized for acting without the prince’s permission, but the prince heartily approved of the man’s decision. How daring, how right of Novak to chase after the Gypsy ship! It would not be long before Novak returned to Prague, bearing the Terrestrial Globe.

Then the prince’s eyes fell on the date scribbled after Novak’s signature. His smile faltered, for the letter had been written two weeks ago. Mail traveled so slowly. It was painful to wonder whether Novak had succeeded.

But of course he had, the prince assured himself. The spymaster had no other option. As for Prince Rodolfo, he knew that now he had many options. With the promise of the Mercator Globes, certain things and people were no longer useful to him. Why should he crave a patched-up clock built by a broken old man? A handful of gears was nothing compared to being able to navigate the world’s Rifts, and surely Rodolfo’s father would agree. It was no secret that inheriting the title of Hapsburg Emperor was a competition in which his father was the only judge and his brothers were opponents. Yet when Emperor Karl chose his successor, Rodolfo would win.

It was a long walk from his suite to the Thinkers’ Wing, but the prince prided himself on facing people whose lives he was about to change. There was honor in that.

Because the prince was fairly crackling with energy, he couldn’t help looking at Mikal Kronos with disgust. The frail clockmaker shuffled when the prince entered the room, and a scrap of metal floating in the air abruptly crashed to the man’s feet. Mikal Kronos bowed, but the prince knew it was not out of respect. There was anger in the clockmaker’s stooped shoulders, and grief, and worry.

“Your Highness,” the clockmaker began, “I am making some progress.”

“Do you know what my favorite fairy tale was as a child?”

Master Kronos opened his mouth, then closed it, no doubt afraid the question was a trap.

“I had none,” the prince continued, “for I never enjoy hearing the same story told twice.”

“Forgive me, but I don’t know what you mean.”

“I shall explain. I do not care about your clock. I do not care about you. I do not need you.” Suddenly furious with himself, the prince corrected his words. “I have never needed you, or your invention.”

As soon as the words were uttered, a peace settled over the prince.

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