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instinctively didn’t trust him. But things might be different in this other world he found himself in and he was still learning the ropes.
    As if summoned up by his name, a richly dressed old man walked out from under an arch, into the courtyard, deep in conversation with a less aristocratic person carrying an armful of what looked like plans. A closer look showed Sky that the nobleman wasn’t as old as he first thought; he had completely white hair but his face wasn’t lined. In fact he was rather handsome in a slightly spooky way.
    The Duke, for it was obviously him, stopped when he saw the three intruders. He dismissed the man he had been talking to, with, ‘Come back tomorrow morning with the revised drawings,’ and beckoned Enrico to him.
    The Eel slithered across the courtyard, bowing and smiling. Sky could see at once that the Duke regarded the man with contempt. He might be content to use him but Sky doubted very much that Enrico had more of Duke Niccolò’s confidence than he thought fit to show him. Sandro had made himself invisible, in the way he had of blending in with the background. He now slouched against a column, half-concealed in the shadows.
    Suddenly Sky knew exactly what Sandro did for his unprepossessing master: he was a spy!
    The Duke was looking straight at Sky now, who felt very exposed and wished he had as good a gift of disguise as his new friend. He was glad that he was standing in the shade. Enrico beckoned him over. And a small cloud drifted across the sun.
    â€˜Brother Tino, my Lord,’ said Enrico, presenting Sky to the Duke, like a dog offering his master a share in a particularly precious and revolting bone. ‘As I said, he is based over in your Grace’s old family church among the vines.’
    The Duke extended a long-fingered hand, ringed with silver and rubies, and Sky went to take it, as he had Enrico’s a minute before. But a small gesture from the spymaster indicated he must kiss it not shake it.
    â€˜Indeed,’ said Duke Niccolò. ‘It is some time since I visited there. Perhaps you, Tino – short for Celestino, is it? – would convey my respects to your Senior Friar. Who is it nowadays?’
    Sky got the feeling that this vagueness was put on and that the Duke was well aware who was in charge of every institution of the city. Which was more than Sky himself was.
    â€˜I-I work with Brother Sulien, in . . . in the pharmacy,’ he stammered, glad that his colouring was not susceptible to blushing.
    Duke Niccolò looked hard into his face. ‘Mmm. I have heard something of that friar. Perhaps I shall pay him a visit myself soon. The pharmacy of course I am familiar with. It supplies me with perfume and pomades . . . among other things.’ The Duke smiled slightly, as if remembering past triumphs. Then, ‘Do make your acquaintance with my palace. We have some rather fine frescoes in the chapel that would interest one of your calling. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I have some business with Poggi here.’
    He waved an elegant hand in a gesture that was obviously dismissal, taking in Sandro as well – so he had noticed him, Sky realised – and moved off with Enrico.
    â€˜What a piece of luck!’ said the boy softly as Duke and spymaster walked into the palace in deep conference. Sky couldn’t help noticing that the nobleman kept widening the distance between himself and the man in the blue velvet suit, while Enrico kept sidling up closer again.
    â€˜Luck?’
    â€˜Yes. We’ve more or less got his Grace’s permission to snoop about his palace! He wouldn’t have said that if I’d been here on my own.’ Sandro was thinking how useful it was to have such a respectable companion as a novice friar. ‘He’s wonderful, isn’t he?’ he added.
    â€˜The Duke?’
    â€˜No, the Eel,’ said Sandro impatiently. The Duke was so far out of his sphere that he