Busy as the city had been at night, it was even busier during the day, which was bright and cold. The thoroughfare in front of the Holy Council was heaving with people, and market stalls, and carriages, and riders, and wagons piled high with wares. Lena clutched Chatham’s card in her hand as she wove through the traffic toward the fountain, and then headed north into the royal district. She’d checked the city plans in the map room before she left, so she knew Chatham’s workshop would be somewhere among the grand houses by the park. She looked carefully at the street names painted in black and white on the sides of the corner buildings.

For the hundredth time since sneaking out of the temple, she thought about Emris and how he’d feel if he knew where she was going. She felt terrible about deceiving him. He was busy this afternoon, and Lena had told him she’d spend the time practicing her spells. But she needed to do this, and she knew he wouldn’t understand. She had to know the truth—besides, it was just a quick visit. And what Emris didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

At last, Princess Boulevard opened up on the left, a wide tree-lined avenue full of tall new buildings with bay-windowed shopfronts and signs with fancy lettering hanging above the doors. The street was relatively busy. Smartly dressed women with cinched-in waists and huge fur scarves pushed baby carriages with elaborate lace coverings. Scores of men dressed in various colors of livery hurried behind them, carrying piles of boxes.

Lena felt distinctly out of place in her gray huntsman’s robes, and she attracted a few disapproving glares in a way she hadn’t in the temple district. She reached instinctively for her hood but stopped herself. It felt a little bit like she was a cryptling again, walking in the upper town before nightfall—but this was different. She was strong now, probably stronger than anyone else on the street. And she had every right to be here, no matter how odd she appeared among the fine ladies of the royal district. Nobody stopped her as she approached the large bow-fronted shop that was her destination: Lord Chatham’s Emporium of Magical and Mechanical Delights.

Lena climbed the five shallow steps to the door. In the window, a plethora of shining mechanical animals labeled with gorgeous gold-ink signs promised everything from help with housework to evening entertainment, from music or comedy to occupying “children, pets, and other nuisances.” Every animal was beautifully constructed of various metals—silver, gold, or bronze—and often bejeweled. Some were woven with feathers or even fur as part of their design, others with silk or velvet. She particularly liked the petite golden cat with emerald eyes and a white feather puff on its tail, supposedly for the dusting of library shelves.