they can be of use. In fact, I should not have let you talk me into allowing you to come.”
“Oh”—she pulled a pretty pout—“where would be the fun in that? It is so stultifyingly tedious when you are away. And you are forgetting that you promised to teach me everything there is to know about ley leaping. I intend to hold you to that promise.”
“Well,” he huffed, “see that you make the most of the trip. We will not be there very long.”
“Then why go at all?” she challenged. “If it is putting you to so much bother as all that, what, pray, is the point?”
“Because,” he said, growing irritable, “it is an errand of some importance. If you must know, I have commissioned a special instrument to be made, and I am going to pick it up. Straight in and straight out again.”
She had pushed him far enough; it was time to retreat and leave him the field. “The merest possibility of seeing such a fabulous city is satisfying enough for me,” she said, favouring him with a smile. “I am certain that it will be worthwhile—however much time we have to spend.”
“We shall see,” he said, softening somewhat. Beguiled by her winsome and innocent smile, he added, “Perhaps we can do better than that. The palace is impressive, and the Rathaus. Then there is the emperor himself, of course—Rudolf is an enthusiast of the first order, very grand, extremely generous, and also a complete ninny. You will enjoy meeting him if the chance should come your way. And, would you know it? There is now a coffeehouse in the old square. The first one in Europe, I believe.”
“I believe we have coffeehouses in London. Yes, I am sure of it. Of course, I have never visited such an establishment myself, but I would dearly love to see such a place, and taste some of this coffee for myself.”
“We shall see,” he allowed. “We shall see. Did you bring a change of clothing as I told you? We cannot have you traipsing around Prague dressed as you are.” He meant in her travelling clothes, which consisted of a simple drab linen dress and high-topped boots. “You cannot be presented at court looking like a milkmaid.”
“To be sure,” she agreed blithely. “As instructed, I have packed silk and lace suitable for just such an occasion.”
A short while later they reached the first ley, and Burleigh sent the carriage away. The first leap took place in the usual way and, as usual, Haven experienced the acute disorientation and nausea resulting from such sudden and violent dislocation. They landed in a rural landscape that seemed to be a wooded river valley in some remote place devoid of any sign of human habitation.
“Where are we?” she asked when she could speak again.
“I have no idea whatever,” Burleigh replied impatiently. “Are you quite finished? We have a fair way to walk.”
“I am truly sorry if my discommodious behaviour has inconvenienced you, my lord,” she replied tartly. She dabbed her mouth with her sleeve. “I assure you it cannot be helped.”
Although she was growing more used to what she thought of as the seasickness accompanying the leaps, it still had the ability to momentarily immobilise her, and Burleigh had little patience for such weakness.
“Come along when you are ready,” he said, striding off.
“Are there people about?” she asked when she had caught up with him.
“None that I have ever seen.”
“How odd.”
“Not at all. If you care to think about it rationally for a moment, there is nothing remotely unusual about it. See here,” he said, stumping along, “our world has not always been so populous as it is at present. Indeed, the reverse is more the rule, since for long epochs of human history vast areas of landscape—whole continents—were devoid of human presence. Thus, I suspect that we have arrived in this world at a particular time in its history where this place is still virgin territory. In short, there may be people on this world—I should be surprised if there were not—but there are none around here.”
“And you have never undertaken to explore this world at all?”
“A bloody waste of time,” he sneered, waving a hand at the empty plains. “There is nothing of interest here.”
“So it is only a connecting place, then—a station on the way.”
“A way station, yes. In my experience, there are many such places,” he told her. “While they may have other uses, to me they merely serve as a