At six oclock, he rose to join the other rowers for the procession of boats that was to take place at half past. A company of the Inquisitors lackeys followed him, jogging along the bank, never letting him leave their sight.
Upstream, the boats were pulled ashore, and the rowers tucked into a special supper. Titus forced himself to eat, so as to appear unconcerned before his minders. Afterward, the rowers took to the boats again to row back downstream. Upon their return, the fireworks would begin.
Night had fallen. The trees along both banks of the river had been lit with miniature candles; the water glittered with their reflections. It would have been a pretty sight had he been in the mood to appreciate it.
Halfway down the river he realized that the mages who had shadowed him were gone. He veered between a bone-melting relief and a stark suspicion that this was the beginning of some new trickery.
Only when he saw that the white canopy had also disappeared did he allow himself to exhale. If the Inquisitor had planned to take him in tonight, shed have waited for him.
Pushing past the throngs of spectators gathered for the fireworks, he headed back to Mrs. Dawlishs.
Fairfax was not in her roomthe entire floor was empty. But she did leave him a note on her desk. Off to the fireworks. The boys insist.
He returned to his own room, set the kettle to boil, pulled out a tin of biscuits from his cabinet, and slumped down on his bed.
For now, he was safe. But the next Inquisition would happen sooner or later. To protect Fairfax, he must go on the run. The only question was whether she would be safer coming with him or staying behind at Eton.
The kettle boiled. He looked into his cupboard for his favorite leaf, grown in the mist-covered mountains of the West Ponives, a mage realm in the Arabian Seaand remembered that he had already finished his store. On an ordinary day, he would have settled for a bit of Fairfaxs Earl Grey. But tonight he wantedneededthe comfort of the familiar before he made decisions that would affect what remained of his life.
He went to Fairfaxs room to vault to his laboratoryand could not. His shock was almost as great as what she must have felt when he tossed her into Ice Lake. Going into the empty house officers lounge, he tried againand again found himself in the same spot. He ran downstairs into the streetand still could not vault.
This was Atlantiss doing. It went without saying that if he managed to find the boundary of this no-vaulting
zone, he would find it heavily guarded. And his flying carpet had been packed away as part of Fairfaxs survival kit, now beyond his reach.
He took a deep breath and told himself he had no need to lose hope. There was always the wardrobe in Wintervales room.
But when he opened the door of the wardrobe, he saw a note pasted on the inside. Dear Lee, I am blocking this portal for now, until I find a more secure means for you to access the house. Love, Mother.
His last option, ripped from him. He stumbled back into his room, numb with panic.
Distantly there came the sound of fireworks exploding and enthusiastic cheering. Like a sleepwalker, he drifted to his window, only to see Trumper and Hogg on the grass, each with a brick in hand, getting ready to throw them at his and Fairfaxs window.
His anger boiling over, he slashed his wand in the air. They promptly fell over. He clenched his hand, willing himself not to do anything else. In his current state of mind, he might maim them permanently.
He turned around . Bastards. They need their heads shoved up their
He froze. It was exactly what he had said in his mothers vision. He hurried to his copy of Lexikon der Klassischen Altertumskunde . In his hands it turned back to Princess Ariadnes diary. Almost immediately he located the rest of the entry.
It is evening, or perhaps night, quite dark outside. Titus turns back from the window, clearly incensed. Bastards, he swears. They need their heads shoved up their
He freezes. Then rushes to take a book down from his shelf, a book by the name of Lexikon der Klassischen Altertumskunde.
Everything blurred.
When I could make out clear images again, I was no longer looking at the same small room, but at the library of the Citadel. Is it the same evening? I cannot be sure. Titus appears again, this time in a gray, hooded tunic, moving stealthily through the stacks. (Someday he will be the Master of the Domain. Why the furtiveness in his own palace?)
Again everything dissolvesto coalesce once more into the interior of the Citadels library. Many more mages are present, most of them soldiers in Atlantean uniformhow far the fortunes of the House of Elberon will have fallensurrounding what looks to be a body on the floor. Alectus and Callista are there too.
I cant believe it, Callista murmurs.
Alectus looks as if hed lost his own sister. The Inquisitor, dead. It is not possible. It is not possible.
Did this mean if Titus took himself to the Citadel tonight, it would somehow result in the Inquisitors death? The prospect was dizzying.