“Of course.” This door had a more modern keyhole and lock. But when Miriam twisted the handle and tugged, it opened, admitting a frigid blast of damp air. “I think you’re right about it leading to the roof,” Miriam added, “but I’d like to know just where the unlocked doors lead, do you follow me?”

“Brr.” Brilliana shivered. She really wasn’t dressed for this, Miriam noted.

“Wait here,” Miriam instructed. Without pause she entered the doorway. Stone steps spiraled tightly up into blackness. She ascended, guided by touch as much as by vision. This must be higher than the doppelgänger warehouse’s roof, she guessed. Cold wind smacked her in the face at the top. She turned and looked out across the steeply pitched roof, past machicolations, across gardens spread far below. And then the town, narrow streets and pitched roofs utterly unlike anything she’d see back home stretching away on all sides, dimly lit by lamplight. What do they burn? she wondered. Above the entire scene, riding high atop a tattered carpet of fast-moving white clouds, hung the gibbous moon. Someone has been up here recently, she thought and shivered. It was freezing cold, wet, and dark. Clambering about on the roof held no appeal, so she turned and carefully descended back into the relative warmth of the moth-eaten outer reception room.

Brilliana jumped as she emerged. “Oh! By my soul, you gave me a fright, my lady. I was so worried for you!”

“I think I gave me a fright too,” Miriam commented shakily. She shut the door. “We’re going back to the heated quarters now,” she said. “And we’re going to bolt the door—on the inside. Come on. I wonder if that bath will be ready.”

The bath was indeed ready, although Miriam had to ransack her luggage for toiletries and chase two ladies-in-waiting and three servants out of the room before she could strip off and get in the tub. In any event, it grew cold too fast for her to soak in it for long. Baths hereabouts were a major chore, it seemed, and if she didn’t get across to the other side regularly, she’d have to get used to making it a weekly event. At least she didn’t have to put up with the local substitute for soap, which was ghastly beyond belief.