Make way for the Master of the Domain. Captain Lowridges voice was a rumble that seemed to carry for miles. Or you will have declared war on him. And none of you will ever see Atlantis again.
The soldiers looked at one another. Finally, one shuffled a step to the side, and the rest followed. A sergeant opened the triple gates. Captain Lowridge sped the chariot outside, his guards behind on their mounts.
They cleared the boundaries of the Inquisitory in no time. Captain Lowridge whistled. At his command, the pegasi spread their wings and the chariot became airborne.
The Citadel, he shouted at his subordinates.
No, said the prince. Iolanthe started. She thought him unconscious still. Not the Citadel. The castle.
His eyes remained shut, his voice was low and weak, but he was most certainly lucid.
Yes, sire, answered the captain. He repeated the princes order. We make for the castle without delay.
Canary, muttered the prince.
Iolanthe hopped onto his bloodstained palm. His hand closed about her. Another time shed have protested the hold as too tight, but now she was only fiercely glad he had enough strength left to grip her so.
They raced for the expedited airway, the night traffic over Delamer yielding to the princely standard flying over the chariot. The kick of acceleration told Iolanthe they had left Delamer. She was never so happy to be almost asphyxiated. The prince grunted in pain as they were spewed out the other end.
She rubbed her head against the edge of his palm. Almost to safetythey would be all right.
Your Highness, if you would, said the captain, once they were above the Labyrinthine Mountains.
The prince drew his wand and feebly muttered something. To the southeast a flare shot up in the sky, illuminating the highest towers of the castle.
Thank you, sire.
The captain steered toward the direction of the flare. Iolanthe had forgotten that with the arrhythmic shifting of the mountains, even those who lived in the castle must look for it each time they left and came back.
The prince asked to be let off at the landing arch at the top of the castle, rather than in the courtyard. He allowed the captain to help him out of the chariot and leaned on the latter to walk.
His valet, his attendants, and a horde of pages ran up. They pressed in around him. He ordered them to leave him alone, sounding peevish in that way he did so well.
Stand back, you idiots. I cannot breathe.
The court physician is on his way, said an attendant.
Send him away.
But sire
Send him away or I will send you away. I will not have people say I needed to be patched up
after a mere conversation with that gorgon.
But of course he needed to be patched up. Hed bled so muchand from his ears .
Nevertheless the prince prevailed. He barred the majority of the crowd outside the doors of his apartment. Most of the rest were allowed no farther than the anteroom.
The court physician, who had disregarded his wishes and come all the same, was not only denied entrance to the princes bedchamber, but also awarded a tirade.
Do you dare insinuate that I cannot talk to the Inquisitor for ten minutes without needing medical attention? What kind of a weakling do you take me for? I am the bloody heir of the bloody House of Elberon. I do not need a know-it-all sawbones after a chitchat with that Atlantean witch.
Even the valet was given the boot after he helped the prince take off his overrobe. Go.
But sire, at least allow me to clean you.
Who do you think cleans me when I am at school? I am not one of those old-time princes who cannot wipe their own arses. Leave.
The valet protested. The prince pushed him out of the bedchamber and shut the door in his face.
He swayed, caught himself on a small fruit tree that grew in a glazed pot, staggered into the water closet, and vomited.
Iolanthe chirped unhappily where shed been leftjust outside the closed door of the water closet. Faucets ran. Sounds of splashes came. The prince emerged ashen, but with most of the blood on his face washed off.
He picked her up and wobbled as he straightened. You wanted to be in the bath with me earlier today, darling, did you not? Well, now you get your wish.
Once the amethyst tub had been filled, Titus climbed in fully clothed. He washed the blood from Fairfaxs feathers, then recited the password. The next instant, he was sitting in a different tub, an empty one, his clothes and her feathers perfectly dry.
Welcome to where I am supposed to go to school, he murmured.
The former monastery was a place of solitude and contemplation, a refuge from the pressures of the throne. It was also used as a site of learning, its clear air and distance from worldly distractions judged helpful to the studies of a princeling.
Titus did spend months here every year between Eton halves, reading, practicing, and experimenting. For someone who must keep secrets, it was a haven, as free from spies and surveillance as it was possible to be these days. There was no indoor staff except for those he chose to bring, and the outdoor staff came only once a week to maintain the grounds.