‘Really?’ Aubrey said. ‘Going on the Transcontinental?’
Mr Thomson snapped a length of string and tied the parcel with a flourish. ‘Of course. The Transcontinental is the best way to get about the Continent.’
‘Naturally,’ Aubrey said faintly. His mind was racing off in unexpected directions.
His mother took the parcel and tucked it in her bag. Then she spied something interesting at a booth opposite. ‘Look, Aubrey. Lutetian velvet.’
While his mother chatted in Lutetian with the fabric makers, Aubrey studied the program he’d picked up at the entrance to the Academy. It was a sterling production, displaying the best of Holmland printing and typography, and no doubt would have warmed the Chancellor’s heart.
His eyes opened. ‘Mother, did you know that Professor Mansfield was going to be here? She’s presenting on early magical languages.’
His mother turned with a length of rich purple in her arms. ‘Anne? I thought she was still in Aigyptos.’
‘So did I. She hasn’t been in touch with you?’
‘No. I must make a point to find her. I haven’t seen her in ages.’
Caroline and George made their way toward them through the crowd. Aubrey’s heart leaped to see Caroline. She was dressed in a stylish grey suit – long skirted, smart jacketed.
‘Your lecture theatre is set up,’ George said to Lady Rose. ‘After the opening, it’s Professor Heinz this morning with Forest Fungi of Farnsland, then lunch, then your show.’
‘We’ll make sure we get there during the lunch break, just to make sure nothing has been disturbed,’ Caroline said.
‘Wise,’ Aubrey said, ‘but we have those opening addresses to get through first.’
‘I’m looking forward to hearing the Elektor speak,’ Lady Rose said. ‘He said he’d been working on his speech for months.’ She studied the program. ‘And the Chancellor has some time as well. That should be interesting. More about bootmaking machinery or slate production, I should think.’
‘No doubt,’ Aubrey said, but his startled attention was on a familiar figure hurrying toward them.
‘Lady Rose,’ Hugo von Stralick panted. ‘If you’ll excuse us, I must speak to your son. Privately.’
‘Of course,’ Lady Rose said. ‘As long as your “privately” includes these two, for they look determined to be part of whatever conspiracy you’re hatching.’
Von Stralick glanced at the hovering Caroline and George. He pushed back his uncharacteristically unkempt hair. ‘Naturally.’ He took Aubrey’s arm. ‘Quickly, we must find somewhere to talk.’
‘The lecture theatre,’ George suggested. ‘The one where Lady Rose is going to talk.’
Von Stralick refused to say anything while they struggled through the crowds, out of the door and then down the cloistered walkway. Half of Fisherberg appeared to have descended on the Academy and the old buildings were echoing with excited conversation.
George held open the door and they slipped into the dimly lit, slightly dusty lecture theatre. It smelled of floor polish and chalk.
‘Now, what is it?’ Aubrey asked as von Stralick made sure the door was shut. His voice echoed from the hard wooden floors and the banked rows of empty seats.
Von Stralick was grim. ‘It’s Otto, the fool. I went to his rooms. I wanted to give him the good news about Tremaine.’
‘I hope he was pleased,’ Caroline said.
‘He was, but in an absentminded sort of way.’
‘I would have thought he’d be overjoyed,’ Aubrey said.
‘So did I. But he just smiled a little, congratulated me, and insisted he had to get back to his work.’
‘His work?’ George said. ‘And what is this important work he’s been so obsessed with? I thought he was going to be of some use here in Fisherberg.’
‘This prize he’s won. Because of it, he’s presenting a paper.’
Aubrey shrugged. ‘He told us that.’
‘But he neglected to mention that it was part of the opening ceremony.’
Startled, Aubrey whipped out the program. ‘I didn’t see his name anywhere.’
‘You are correct. But look at the item straight after the Chancellor.’
‘A Presentation from the Chancellor’s Prize Winner.’ Aubrey looked up. ‘That’s what he was talking about.’
‘Apparently.’
‘A lot of money, is it?’ George asked.
‘Otto wouldn’t say. But he was very pleased with himself and his prospects, it seemed.’
‘Quite a lot of mystery about this,’ Caroline said. ‘Surprise presentations, special prizes.’
Aubrey’s uneasiness was threatening to skip disquiet and grow straight into outright alarm. He clamped down on it. ‘So Kiefer is going to give a paper. Good luck to him.’
‘Heaven help us if he delivers it,’ von Stralick said, ‘because if he does, the world will be at war within a month.’
Von Stralick delivered this with a flat tone of voice, devoid of drama, which only made it all the more chilling.
‘This is the same Otto Kiefer we’re talking about?’ George said. ‘All knees and elbows? Makes a good scone but not much use otherwise?’
‘Once he was awarded this Chancellor’s Prize, he became obsessed with old documents from all over Fisherberg,’ von Stralick said. ‘He told me how he’d been digging in archives in the old Imperial Palace, and in private collections, and even in the records in the oldest churches. Once he finished one last bit of research, he was ready, he said, ready to claim for what was owed to him. He was babbling, words tripping over each other, and it looked as if he hadn’t eaten for a month.’
‘But what’s he on about?’ George asked. ‘Owed to him?’
‘His father was promised riches if he worked with Dr Tremaine on catalysts,’ Aubrey said, ‘but when he died, the family got nothing.’
‘Otto has always felt wronged,’ von Stralick said, ‘and always wanted what was due to him.’
‘But exactly what has he been researching?’ Caroline asked.
‘It was hard to make out, but it had something to do with your Prince Albert.’
Aubrey’s unease decided to put on lead boots and dance a little. ‘He wasn’t talking family history, was he?’
Von Stralick darted a venomous look at Aubrey. ‘He said you’d know. He promised it would be the making of his career, thanks to Schweiger, the man who’d prompted him to look into this area.’
‘Schweiger?’
‘I’d never heard of him and, given Otto’s fawning attitude when he mentioned the man, I was suspicious. I asked for a description.’
‘Tall, pointed beard? Very dextrous? Black eye?’
Von Stralick sagged and sat on one of the first row of desks. ‘How did you know?’
‘I didn’t. I worked it out. Schweiger is Manfred.’ Manfred’s part in events was nagging Aubrey – mainly because such machinations suggested the involvement of someone altogether more dangerous.
‘Yes, Manfred is helping him,’ von Stralick said. ‘You see why I hurried to find you. I do not have a good feeling about this.’
Nor do I. Aubrey started for the door. He flung it open. ‘We were all convinced that Dr Tremaine was after the Prince. We forgot about feints.’
‘Calm down, Aubrey,’ Caroline said. ‘One thought at a time.’
‘That’s the point. You can’t keep one thought at a time with Dr Tremaine.’
‘Steady on, old man,’ George said. ‘Dr Tremaine is harmless, locked up in a pearl which is locked up in a safe.’
Aubrey stood still, one hand on the door knob. ‘That may be,’ he said. ‘But by now his plans have a momentum of their own. They can move ahead without him.’
‘But what was he planning?’ George said. ‘Surely he was after something.’