"Oh. Mathieu de Coligny," I said. "What a lovely surprise. I didn't expect to see you here."

Mathieu narrowed his eyes. "I live here."

I gasped. "This is your house?"

He banged his hand on the doorframe. "I'm not jesting!"

"No, right. I know that. Sorry. I just thought you were at Versailles doing. . . Versailles things. You know-drinking, gambling, contracting diseases through fornication."

"Olivier d'Aumont, I demand you tell me why you're here."

"I don't suppose you'll believe me if I say I stopped by for afternoon tea?"

Mathieu's gaze slid from me to Jacqueline. "You again." He sneered. "Funny how you claim to be related to Olivier, yet you look more like you're related to his family's murderous ward."

"Ha, ha, ha," I cut in. "That is quite amusing. Will you give us a moment, please?"

"Give you a moment? I-"

Before he could say anything else, I stepped back, slammed the door in his face, and locked it.

"What are you doing?" Jacqueline hissed.

Behind us, Mathieu pounded on the door, shouting something about telling his father I was here, but I ignored both him and Jacqueline, preoccupied with searching the room for anything of use.

Jacqueline's dagger rested where she left it on the table, but I was in danger of losing an eye if I tried to use it. Next to the dagger was a series of tools, but again, my chances of coming out of a scuffle with both my eyes intact were abysmal at best. I looked over the handful of clock bits on the table, wondering how effective they would be thrown from a distance. Then my gaze landed on the clocks themselves.

The clocks.

I ran to the shelf and selected a clock, its gilded clock face and porcelain base covered in mint and ivory cherubs. And next to it, a circular, gilt-bronze key.

"What are you doing?" Monsieur Chaffee asked. "If Comte de Coligny discovers I told someone else about the clocks-"

"Listen, Mathieu de Coligny is on the other side of the door, and he will tell his father we're here if I do nothing."

He shook his head, stepping out in front of me. "I can't allow you to use the clock. It's too dangerous."

"I'm not actually going to use it. All I wish is to scare him a little."

He hesitated.

"There isn't much time!" I insisted. The knocks from Mathieu were coming strong, but it was only a matter of seconds before he gave up and went to fetch someone. "If the comte discovers us here, we will all suffer for it."

He cast me one last fleeting glance before he sighed and stepped out of my way.

"Thank you, monsieur." I clutched both the clock and the key to my chest and made my way to the door. "And I apologize for kissing your daughter. I swear it was her idea."

I pulled the door open, brandishing the clock above my head like a battle axe.

"I'll tell my father you're here!" Mathieu was screaming. "He'll come down here and unlock this door himself before he chops your heads off and parades them around on a pike! He'll-is that a clock?"

"Yes, it is." I stretched the clock out until it was nearly close enough to touch Mathieu's chest. "Let us alone, or I'll wind it up."

"You came here to steal from my father's clock collection? How dare you."

"What? No. It's one of those magic clocks your father uses. I'll wind it up. I have the key!"

"I knew your family was socially disgraced, but I was under the impression you still had money. Is this how your parents fund all their wild parties? By having you steal things from the more fortunate?"

"I'm not stealing anything, and my family doesn't need money. Are you even listening to me?" I shook the clock around for emphasis. "I'm threatening you with a magic mind-altering clock."

"What on earth are you spouting off about?"

I lowered the clock. "Good God, you don't know."

"Know what?"

At that moment, Jacqueline shot out from behind me, dagger clutched in her hand.

"Ha!" I said, pointing to her. "Let us alone or my fearsome accomplice will shred you to bits with her dagger!"

Jacqueline gave me a look of exasperation just as Mathieu reached out to snatch her wrist, making her lose her grip on the dagger. It clattered to the ground, and Mathieu kicked it away. All three of us watched it skid down the tile floors and disappear into the shadows.

"You vile little thief," Mathieu whispered in Jacqueline's ear. "Just wait until my father hears about this."

"Unhand me this instant!" Jacqueline yelled, struggling in his grasp.

I stepped forward, ready to smash the clock over Mathieu's head, when Jacqueline turned and spit a glob of saliva directly onto his cheek. It slid down his face and landed on the floor, leaving behind a slimy, wet track on his pale skin. He yelled and loosened his grip. She lashed out, shoving her elbow into his stomach.

Mathieu doubled over as Jacqueline broke free, tripping on her skirts in her haste to get away. She almost tumbled to the floor, but I shot out an arm to catch her. For a few moments, we both stared at each other, saying nothing. Jacqueline's heart was beating so fast, I could feel her pulse slam against my fingertips.

"Are you all right?" I asked. "I mean, did he hurt you?"

She pushed herself away. "I'm fine, thank you."

"That's it!" Mathieu shouted, racking a hand across his cheek. "I'm alerting everyone in this house that thieves have broken in, and you'll both be apprehended for your crimes and taken to the Bastille." He grinned. "You'll finally be reunited with your so-called brother, Olivier d'Aumont. Won't that be splendid?"

I had a brief vision of being taken by the Colignys' guards-of my arms pinned behind my back as I struggled to break free, Jacqueline screaming my name while they dragged her away. I thought of the look that would be on Étienne and Renée's faces when they heard the news. If all three of us were arrested, who would be the first to die? Would I be forced to watch Étienne and Jacqueline hang? Would I hang first and they be forced to watch me?

I stood frozen as Mathieu started for the stairs. Jacqueline darted down the corridor for her dagger, but even if she retrieved it before Mathieu made it to the second floor, there wasn't much she'd be able to do. No matter the outcome, we were doomed to a future in the Bastille. All because I'd had the brilliant idea of sneaking in here to fetch the journals.

At least, we were doomed, unless. . .

"Mathieu!" I called out.

Mathieu's hand curled around the iron railing as he whirled to face me. "What is it? Thought it time to plead for your life?"

And before I could convince myself it was a terrible idea, I shoved the bronze key into its accompanying hole on the clock face, held the clock out in front of me, and wound it up. Just as Jacqueline's father had said.

I felt a right fool standing in the middle of the hallway with the clock held above my head like I was presenting baby Jesus to the masses. But then Mathieu froze. I had been ready for him to start laughing, or for Jacqueline to tell me I was using the clock all wrong. Though the longer Mathieu stood there, unmoving and staring at the clock, the more I realized this might actually be working.

"Erm, Mathieu," I began tentatively. "Follow me. Please."

I took one step back, then another, until I was halfway down the corridor, and Mathieu-still staring at the clock-reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Now," I said, continuing to wind the clock, "stay quiet about Jacqueline and me in your house. Don't say a word to anyone, or even think about saying a word to anyone. Actually, it would be better if you just didn't think at all."

Mathieu gave no indication as to whether or not he understood me, but he didn't move, either. I grinned at the clock. What else could I ask Mathieu to do? Hop on one foot for an hour? Strip down to his underthings and run through Faubourg Saint-Germain? Take a carriage to Versailles and declare in front of Paris society he had a festering rash on his private areas?

But Jacqueline ran up to me, ripped the clock out of my hands, and placed it on the floor. "What did you just do?" she yelled.

I peered at her. Why wasn't she throwing her arms around me in gratitude? "I told him not to say anything to his father. We can leave now without any trouble. Honestly, I'm a bit offended you're not giving me the thanks I deserve for my quick decision making."

"Imbecile!" She yanked a hand through her hair. Strands of it came free of the pins in her updo and spilled across her shoulders in a tumble of black waves. "Did you forget there is no way to reverse the clock's hold on someone?"

"But can't we simply wind the clock again and tell him to forget about what I said?"

Jacqueline blinked. "I'm almost certain it doesn't work that way."

"What do you mean it doesn't work that way?" I looked at Mathieu, half expecting him to already be back to the way he was before. But he remained motionless in the corridor.

"My father may have a solution but-"

Before she could finish her sentence, I scooped up the clock, raised it above my head, and hurled it onto the floor. It shattered upon impact, gold bits flying down the hall and broken glass shooting off in every direction. The head of a cherub snapped off the porcelain base, and it rolled across the tile, stopping in front of my shoe.

Jacqueline yelped. "Why would you do that?"

"Because if the clock breaks, the hands won't vibrate anymore. So, Mathieu should go back to normal." I glanced behind me. Mathieu still stared straight ahead, expression unmoving as a frozen pond. "All right. Never mind." I paced across the black and white tile floor, hands gripping at my thighs. "This is fine. This will be fine. All we must do is give the clock pieces to your father, and he can figure out a way to-"

"Mathieu?" called a female voice from abovestairs. "Are you down there? I heard a crash."

I stopped cold. "Merde. I think that's his mother."

Jacqueline looked up at the marble staircase then back down at me. Her dark eyes were frantic. "No one can catch us, Olivier. We'll be arrested. We won't be able to save Étienne."

"I know that. I know." I took her by her shoulders, leaning down so we were at eye level. "I promise I'll get us out of here. Just trust me, all right?"

Jacqueline nodded. "All right."

Then I turned on my heel and headed for the clock workshop. When I stepped into the room, Jacqueline's father had his ear pressed against the wall, straining to hear what was going on outside. He jumped back and cleared his throat, straightening his spectacles from where they'd gone crooked across his nose.

"Has he left?" he asked. "Mathieu de Coligny."

"Not exactly."

And right on cue, Jacqueline trailed into the room, Mathieu hot on her heels.

Realization spread across Monsieur Chaffee's face like melted sugar. "You two used the clock on him."

"Olivier used the clock on him," Jacqueline corrected.

I glared at her. "Traitor."

"He'll stay like this indefinitely," Monsieur Chaffee said.

"Yes, I know you said that before, but what if-"

"Mathieu?" came his mother's voice again. I cursed.

"We have to leave," I said. "Even if we haven't got the journals, the king will understand if we tell him what happened. I hope." I picked up a second clock from the table, shoved the winding key into its accompanying hole, and waved it in front of Mathieu. "Now, go tell your mother we came by to visit and will be leaving shortly."

Mathieu didn't move.

I shook the clock with more vigor. "Go tell your mother-"

"It won't work," Monsieur Chaffee said.

"What?"

"The mind can only be influenced after the clock is wound for the first time. All clocks create the same vibrations. So once vibrations are caused in the mind, a second command cannot be given after the affected party looks away from the clock."

"But I tried smashing the clock, and that didn't work either!"

"Because once a suggestion is put in someone's mind, it cannot be taken back. If you did not tell Mathieu to return to normal after a certain amount of time, or after a certain task is finished, he will not return to normal."

"There's nothing we can do? We can't reverse it or command him to go back to normal now or. . ." I broke off, chest heaving. "Oh God. Mathieu is a sniveling little bastard, but I don't want him to stay like this forever."

Monsieur Chaffee shook his head. "This is precisely why I told you not to use the clock."

"Then all of us must leave now before Mathieu's mother finds him," Jacqueline said. "We can figure this out at your home."

"Leave without me," Monsieur Chaffee said.

"Father?"

"I must stay here. Comte de Coligny can't know about this. He can't know I've said anything to you."

I gave him an incredulous look. "We might be responsible for his only son acting like this forever. I think that's a bit more important than not telling the comte we were here."

"You might be responsible for his only son acting like this forever," Jacqueline mumbled under her breath.

Monsieur Chaffee stood his ground. "I will allow you to have the journals and the clock, but I cannot go."

"But we've only just reunited." Jacqueline's voice was pleading, desperate. "Étienne is at the d'Aumont's home. The three of us could be together again. Do you not want to see your son?"

"I'm sorry, Jacqueline."

Her gaze hardened, voice turning cold. "You were a coward for abandoning us before, and you're still a coward now."

Monsieur Chaffee looked as if he'd been slapped, but Jacqueline didn't see, for she had already turned toward the door. "Let's away, Olivier."

I hesitated. "Monsieur Chaffee, where did you say the journals were again?"

He didn't look at me as he said, "The sideboard cabinet, in the bottom drawer."

"Uh, thank you." I ran to the sideboard cabinet, yanked open the bottom drawer, and retrieved the journals, both the length of my forearm and covered in faded black leather.

I held them close to my chest and started for the door, where Jacqueline waited next to Mathieu, frowning at the brass doorknob.

"Ready?" she asked, scooping up her rose clock from the worktable.

"Yes. I'm ready."

Then, with the journals, a clock, and the mind-altered son of a comte in tow, Jacqueline and I stepped into the hallway.