The room was functional, but it also contained a small and very pretty fireplace surrounded by tiles decorated with cogs and wheels in gold, bronze, and silver—It must’ve been specially designed, Lena thought, just like the stained-glass window. And in front of the fire were two leather armchairs and a small round table with a teapot and a neat pile of books. Suspended over the fire was a kettle, already puffing steam through its spout. On the wide mantelpiece, she spied a set of six cups and saucers and a large strawberry cake.

“Miss Lena Grey, what an honor. I shall be with you forthwith,” Chatham said, still staring at the two tiny pieces of silver in his hand, which he appeared to be trying to slot together. “Please take a seat by the fire. I’m just finishing up this bee. The wings are extremely delicate.”

Lena sat in one of the chairs. It was more comfortable than it looked—perhaps too comfortable. She felt herself sinking into its cushions, even though she was determined to remain upright and businesslike. The kettle started to whistle.

“Would you be a dear and get that? The tea things are all ready—just pour in the water,” Chatham said.

She took down two cups and set them on the table, then poured the boiling water into the pot. The action instantly brought Vigo to mind, although the scent of the tea was entirely different. Vigo had favored fennel, mint, and nettle—sharp herbal smells that had always reminded Lena a little unpleasantly of embalming oils—and a rich, spicy aroma rose with the steam from this pot.

At last, while the tea was brewing, Chatham exclaimed, “Bravo! Now, let’s test it out…” She heard him whisper a brief incantation; a flash of yellow light brightened his desk—and then the golden bee was buzzing over his head. Chatham joined her beside the fire and the bee followed, landing elegantly on the lip of his teacup. Minuscule stripes of black fur banded the bee’s tiny body, and in between Lena could spy a strong yellow glow. Like the glow in the horse’s head, she thought.

“I trust you are fully recovered from last night’s ordeal? That was quite a fall.”

Lena pulled her attention away from the bee. “I’m fine,” she said. Suddenly she felt like a silly little girl. She drew herself up and opened her mouth to demand answers, but Chatham spoke first.

“I’m sure we should all be very grateful to you. It really was the perfect distraction—although your hunter didn’t seem too approving. Is that why you’re here? You’re fed up with taking his orders?”

“No. I’m just curious. You said you had information for me.”