She made herself say something sensible. Would you mind if I asked your grandfather a few questionsin case he knew something about Atlantis that could help us free Master Haywood?
Go ahead. Although
What is it?
He didnt quite look at her. I think you should first consult the Oracle of Still Waters.
A flagstone-paved path led out from behind the pink marble palace, flanked on either side by tall, stately trees with bark that was almost silky to the touch. Pale-blue flowers drifted down from the boughs,
twirling like tiny umbrellas.
Iolanthe caught one of the blue flowers. Are we still in the teaching cantos?
The prince nodded. In the practice cantos, every time you leave, it is as if you have never been there. But the Oracle will advise you only once in your lifetime, and until her story was moved to the teaching cantos, where there is continuity, my ancestors could never get any meaningful answers from her.
And she will only help you to help someone else, right?
Rightand she can see through you. When I pretended that I want to help the Bane remain in power, she laughed. When I said I wanted to protect my people, she laughed again. And when I asked how I could help you get to me, she told me to mind my own business, because you had no interest in my schemes.
He could joke about it now, but she wondered how the Oracles blunt, unhelpful answers must have struck him when he desperately needed guidance and assurance.
The path led them to a clearing. The Oracle, at the center of a clearing, was not a pond, as Iolanthe had thought, but a round pool six foot across built of fine, creamy marble. The water was as beautiful as the light elixir shed made with her lightning.
Lean over the edge and look at your reflection, said the prince.
As she did so, the water ruffled. A pleasant, feminine voice greeted her. Iolanthe Seabourne, welcome.
Iolanthe drew back in surprise. How do you know my name, Oracle?
The water danced, as if laughing. I wouldnt be any good if I didnt know who had come to ask for my help.
Then you also know why I have come.
But there is more than one person you wish to help.
Iolanthe glanced behind her shoulder. The prince stood at the edge of the clearing, out of earshot.
Think carefully. I can help you only once.
She rubbed her thumb along the raised rim. Then help me help the one who needs it the most.
The pool stilled to an almost mirrorlike smoothness. Not a ripple distorted Iolanthes reflection. All at once her reflection disappeared, as did the reflection of the cloudless sky above. The surface of the water turned ink dark and swelled like a rising tide.
The Oracles voice turned deep, rough. You will best help him by seeking aid from the faithful and bold. And from the scorpion.
What do you mean? But of course, one was not supposed to ask oracles such questions.
The pool turned clear again. Water receded from the edge, hissing with steam. The marble beneath her hand, cool to the touch a minute ago, was now hot, as if it had been in the sun for hours.
As for your guardian, he will not long remain in the custody of the Inquisitor, said the Oracle, her voice low. Good-bye, Iolanthe Seabourne.
They had entered the Crucible sitting a respectable distance apart on the bed. But Titus opened his eyes to find her head on his shoulder, his hand holding hers on the cover of the book.
He did not immediately release her hand. He should, but somehow he remained exactly as he was. His breath came in shallow, almost ragged. Her hair brushed against his jaw, as if she were tilting her face to look at him.
A hot urge pulsed through his veins. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. If he counted to five, and she still did not move . . .
Four seconds. Five sec
Her fingers tightened around his. But the next moment she was already rising and walking away. At the opposite wall, she turned around and crossed her feet insouciantly at the ankles, as if nothing had happened. Nothing had happened, but almost five seconds was an awfully long time to teeter on the brink.
He collected himself. What did the Oracle say about your guardian?
That he wont be in the Inquisitory for much longer.
How will he escape?
Do oracles ever answer such questions?
A loud knock came, not on his door, but hers. You there, Fairfax? asked Cooper. I could use some help with my critical paper.
My flock bleats. Id better shepherd. She opened the door. Cooper, old bloke. Have you missed me?
Titus already missed her.
When she had left, he opened the Crucible to the illustration for The Oracle of Still Waters. Her face looked back at him from the surface of the pool. As he had hoped, the ponds ability to capture the likeness of anyone who looked into it was immune from the reach of the Irreproducible Charm.
Titus VI had built the trick into the pond because he had wanted all the great and terrible mages who dwelled inside the Crucible to resemble him. Titus VII didnt even like to look at his own face in the mirror, but he was immensely grateful that his great-great-great-great-great-grandfather had been so silly.