Pink star moth. Very interesting, indeed. Clara turned the automaton over. On the underside of each brass forewing, a word had been engraved.Spectare, on the left.Polaris, on the right. Both Latin in origin, only one familiar. She knew well that Polaris was the guiding North Star, but she couldn’t begin to guess the meaning ofspectare. She squinted at the word that neither her knowledge, nor the gleaming candlelight, could illuminate. Perhaps Grand’s enclosed note would have a corresponding hint required to make sense of his riddle.
Clara extended her hand toward Mr. Arthur. “I should like to read Grand’s note now, if you please.”
Mr. Arthur held his hands up. “There wasn’t one this time. That’s what has me stumped. The watch chimed, the automaton appeared, but no note. Not on the moth. Not on the shelf from which it descended. All we have to go on is the device itself and the two words inscribed on its wings.”
Botheration. Leave it to Grand to do the unexpected. She deflated with a sigh against the slatted back of her chair. “Such paltry information is hardly enough to go on, especially seeing as Mum and I have a meager understanding of Latin at best.”
“Translation won’t be an issue, Miss Stanton. I’m well versed in Latin.”
She arched an eyebrow wryly. “You are not, sir.”
Mr. Arthur parried her with a raised brow of his own. “Polaris. Shortened from the Neo-Latin,stella polaris, meaning ‘polar star.’Spectarefrom the Latin, meaning ‘to look at or see.’ As in, ‘Look at Miss Stanton and see her proven wrong.’”
Clara gaped at this newest puzzlement. How had Mr. Arthur come to acquire a working knowledge of Latin? A classical education wasn’t something afforded to nameless vagabonds in patched overcoats. What sort of life had Mr. Arthur led before he’d arrived at Grand’s door?
“Bravo, Arthur. It’s not just any man who can render my ducky speechless.”
Her slackened jaw slammed shut. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think Mum had caught the matchmaking bug—assuming she hadn’t been infected along with Grand before this whole journey began. Had the two of them been in league together this whole time?
A mischievous glint danced in Mum’s eyes, one that couldn’t be explained away by the candlelight. One that sparkled with significance as Mum’s gaze waltzed merrily between her and Mr. Arthur.
Clara tensed, face burning despite her distance from the candle’s flame. Heavens above, she’d been bamboozled! For as surely as they were blood kin, Mum and Grand were aligned in a matchmaking conspiracy.
A bead of perspiration formed along her twitching temple. She needed to steer this conversation back to the topic at hand before Mum’s oblique quips took it to a place she didn’t wish to venture. “Pink star moth. Spectare. Polaris. Two references to stars cannot be a coincidence. Our next destination must have something to do with constellations or ... astronomy.”
Her gaze drifted to the restaurant’s four-paned window, framing the dark silhouette of the Klementinum backlit by the moon’s silvery luminance. A tower rose from the vast building complex into a sky of sapphire blue, standing tall amid inky clouds and glittering stars. The familiar figure of an overburdened Titan adorned the tower’s cupola, and in the shadowy haze of night, she could almost imagine a clockwork owl perched upon the globe.
Almost hear Grand’s voice beckoning Little Atlas to spectare polaris.
“The Klementinum’s astronomical tower.” She faced Mum and Mr. Arthur, setting the automaton moth on thetable with confidence. “That is where Grand wishes us to go next.”
Comprehension dawned on Mr. Arthur’s face. He consulted Grand’s pocket watch, and then stood, a broad grin stretching from ear to ear. “Right-oh, ladies. Let’s go look at some stars.”
Together, they strolled back to the Klementinum, sights set on the astronomical tower’s looming shadow. Once inside, Mum made herself comfortable at the bottom of a staircase, propping her boots atop two of their carpetbags and placing the third on the step just above to support her back. Leaving her in Fred’s company, Clara and Mr. Arthur began their ascent. On their way up the tower’s winding staircase, they passed various workrooms cluttered with instruments for astronomical and meteorological study.
When they finally reached the top, Clara pressed a hand to her bodice. She hoped Grand wasn’t overtaxing himself with all this travel and scaling of lofty towers. Catching her breath, she took in the tower’s uppermost room. Moonlight shone through a single round window like crystalline water pouring into a washbasin, simple and small. No furnishings lined the wooden walls. The only thing of note was said window and the door in which it was fixed.
Mr. Arthur opened the door. “After you.”
She stepped onto the tower’s viewing balcony and was greeted by a twinkling canopy of stars that awakened the soul.
“I’d wager Drosselmeyer had something to do with this.” Mr. Arthur assessed a standing telescope tilted toward the heavens.
A smile touched her lips. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”
Before Clara could set her eye to the scope, metallic chimes broke the night’s stillness.
Mr. Arthur held aloft Grand’s watch, searching here and there for the emergence of wonderment.
A shadow stirred. Came alive. Breaking away from the tower wall, it dove through the darkness, weaving through silver moonbeams until it came to rest upon Mr. Arthur’s hand. The moment it touched Grand’s timepiece, the chimes quieted. The living shadow stilled.
Clara drew closer to inspect this latest marvel. It was not a shadow come to life, as first appeared, but rather an automaton bat with large ears, a flattened upturned nose, and flexible wings of black leather spanned betwixt tiny pewter limbs. A cylindrical satchel strapped to the bat’s back most likely contained the next note from Grand.
Mr. Arthur tucked the mechanical bat into one of many patchwork pockets. “Right-oh. We’ve got what we came for. No doubt you wish to return to Mrs. S. and secure lodging in Old Town before the hour grows later still. Shall we be on our way?”
“Actually...” Clara bit her lip, surprised at the words edging to the tip of her tongue as she sidled up to the telescope and placed a gloved hand on its shining surface. “Seems a shame not to make use of this after climbing all those stairs. Besides, Grand did instruct us to look at the stars, did he not? I should hate to disappoint him by not sparing a moment to gaze upon Polaris.”
The moon caught a pleasantly surprised expression on Mr. Arthur’s face. He waved a hand toward the telescope. “Gaze away, Miss Stanton. I’m in no hurry.”
