When it was fully dark outside, we drove back to the robot museum and parked a few blocks away, making the rest of the journey on foot. Metal grates had been closed and locked in front of all the windows and doors, and a sign warned that there was an electronic alarm on the door.

“No sign that the windows are rigged with an alarm,” said Eddie, after inspecting it closely. “In fact, you can see that one of them’s still open behind its metal grate—probably to air the place out.” Even though it was well into night, the summer heat and humidity were still going strong.

“No cameras inside, and none that I see here either,” added Ms. Terwilliger.

“I guess they sunk all their budget into the Raptorbot,” I said. “Not that it seems to be bringing in the customers.”

Eddie’s brief moment of levity earlier was long gone, and he made no response to my barb. Instead, he examined the metal grate in front of the open window, his expression steely. “If I pull hard enough, I might be able to break this lock.”

“No need to use up your strength,” said Ms. Terwilliger. “I’m sure I have a spell to open it.”

“And no need to use up your magic,” I said, stepping forward. From the depths of my large purse, I pulled out a small vial. My time cooped up in our suite at Court hadn’t been entirely wasted. Thanks to our questionably moral friend Abe, I’d been able to get my hand on a number of the components that went into some of the Alchemists’ more common chemical compounds. I’d spent my long confinement building up a stockpile of useful things—including this one, which dissolved metal pretty handily.

The metal grating was like a little gate that slid out from one side of the window and latched to a lock on the opposite side. It actually might have been tough for Eddie to break it, but a few drops of the solution on the latch melted it away, releasing the gate easily. We slid it open, exposing the window. Its glass was up, with only a screen between the contents of the museum and us. Eddie took out a pocketknife, quickly and efficiently cutting open the screen. I winced in spite of myself.

“I feel kind of bad,” I admitted. “This place isn’t doing so well, and now we’re damaging their property.”

“That’s what insurance is for,” said Ms. Terwilliger. “Besides, if it helps us find Jill, I’m sure your queen can make an anonymous donation to this place.”