Make him, a little voice whispered inside her, the same voice that had guided her to force all kinds of people to do her bidding.

“There’s no need for that,” she said, instead, staring down at her hands. “I can manage it myself.”

“Very well,” Christopher said. “I am in your debt for helping me discover this device’s purpose, and happy to oblige. I’ll get the powder for you, and then would you mind going back out the way you came? I’d let you out properly, but I rarely use the front door.”

Hypatia Vex’s magic shop was in a large, one-story brick building between a shipping concern and a damp little restaurant serving coffee and sandwiches to a clientele of longshoremen. The exterior of the shop resembled a small, disused factory; mundanes passing by along the Limehouse street would see only a padlocked door with brass letters above it, small windows filmed with dirt and grime.

Lucie knew that long ago, the place had been a curiosity shop owned by a faerie named Sallows. It had fallen into disuse after his death, but now the floors had been sanded and given a fresh coat of wax, and the walls were painted in scarlet and blue. A series of floor-to-ceiling shelves were already filled with merchandise, and a long display case served as the shop counter. Behind it stood Hypatia, dressed in a flowing purple gown with black silk frog closures. She had a pair of small spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose and was going through a stack of bills and invoices, muttering under her breath.

Anna and Ariadne had already arrived—Anna was leaning against the counter, examining her gloves as if searching for a flaw in the leather. Ariadne, dressed in gear, was looking in fascination at a dollhouse on one of the shelves in which small, living dolls—faeries, perhaps?—darted from room to room, playing tiny musical instruments and sleeping in Lilliputian beds.

“Lucie,” Anna said, looking up with a smile. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d read my note.”

“I did—only I was a bit delayed at the Shadow Market,” said Lucie.

“What an exciting life you do lead,” Anna said. “Now, mind your manners. Hypatia thinks the workmen have been cheating her, and she isn’t in a good mood.”

“I can hear you,” Hypatia snapped, scowling. “Never hire gnome workmen, Herondale. They will overcharge you for lumber.”

Being overcharged for lumber was not the sort of thing that happened to heroines in books. Lucie sighed inwardly—she’d hoped that by the time she’d gotten there, Anna would have charmed Hypatia into a good mood. Clearly, that hadn’t happened. She hesitated, wondering how much she should say. Anna knew more than Ariadne about what Lucie and the others had been up to, but neither girl had any idea of the true purpose of Lucie’s mission.