Valentine's Arrow

4: No Rest for the Wicked

CHAPTER FOUR

REBECCA

And just like that, they were in Prague. The kitchen wall had transformed into a shimmering grey mist, and the four of them had simply stepped through it, right outside into the weak morning sun. It was colder than Rebecca had anticipated; she shivered slightly.

They were walking down what Sebastian said was Charles Bridge. It all felt so surreal - being here, strolling through the streets of Prague like they were on vacation. Rebecca sneaked a peek over the edge of the bridge, saw the steel-colored water gliding below.

The bridge opened out into a cobble-stoned street lined with tourist shops selling everything from opal necklaces to delicate glass figurines to wooden toys. The crowd thinned as they headed further inward, towards an old medieval square. Here, instead of souvenir shops, kiosks filled the space, selling hot cider and freshly cooked sausages.

Rebecca was halfway through her mug of cider when the old astronomical clock in the center of the square chimed the hour. "There's a legend," Sebastian said, leaning forward with his hands cupped around his own mug, "that the king had the eyes of the clockmaker put out after this clock was finished, so he could never build anything as beautiful again."

Rebecca stared into her cider, wishing she could just drown in it. Clary shuddered and moved closer to Jace, perhaps more out of habit than anything else. "That's sadistic," she said.

Sebastian ran his finger around the rim of his mug, and licked the cider off. "The past is another country."

"Foreign country," Rebecca blurted out, immediately regretting it.

Sebastian's eyes snapped to her. "What?"

"The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there. That's the whole quote."

Sebastian simply shrugged in reply, pushing his mug away. "Let's go."

Rebecca drained the rest of her cider, then erupted into a coughing fit as the hot cider went down her throat. Jace raised his eyebrows at her. "You alright?" She nodded, coughing, as they set off after Sebastian.

Prague was a strange city - it was beautiful, with its narrow streets, tiny shops, and distant castles. It was like a fairy tale come to life. But underneath all that, there was a strange feeling in the air, as if the city was dormant and waiting for something to come along and wake it up.

After about ten minutes of marching in a single file through the ever-narrowing streets, they reached another square, smaller than the last. All the stores were closed here, except for one - what looked like an antique store with the words ANTIKVARIAT splashed across the window in fading gold letters. Peering inside, Rebecca could see dusty old bottles - probably display bottles, but there wasn't enough light to make out what was inside them. Much to her surprise, Sebastian entered the store, followed by the other two; after a moment of hesitation at the doorway, she followed.

As soon as she stepped inside, she sneezed. And then sneezed again. And again. The heady smell of mothballs hung in the air, making her sneeze some more. She had always been slightly allergic to dust.

Clary was ogling some of the junk that lined the shelves. Putting out a tentative finger, she lightly stroked what appeared to be a salt-and-pepper shaker that was shaped like one of the figurines in the clock in Old Town Square. "Isn't this beautiful?"

Rebecca murmured an assent and turned away. She wasn't particularly interested in antiques; she didn't have an artist's eye, and to her, everything just looked like old junk.