“Please reconsider,” said the prince.
She spun around sharply. She had no idea when he’d vaulted into the room.
He stood with his back against a wall, his expression blank. “You do not even know where to go.”
But she did. The prince had said that his school was not far from London. She needed to be back in London. Master Haywood had advised her to wait near the end portal for as long as possible, for the arrival of the memory keeper. The move had its risks. But she did not plan to go back inside the madwoman’s house. She could monitor the house from outside, a nearby rooftop, perhaps—
“I would not even think about it.”
Her heart missed a beat, but she turned back to the valise, pocketed the coins, and pretended to check what else it contained.
“That woman in the attic knows who you are—or what you are, at least. She will have consulted other Exiles. There are informants among the Exiles. Atlantis will have the entire neighborhood under surveillance by now. The agents will strip the house of its protections for you to vault in, if you are desperate enough to try. Do it, and it will be the last anyone sees of you.”
She felt nauseous. “Britain is a large realm. My options are nearly endless. As you yourself said earlier, Atlantis, great as it is, cannot hope to locate me so easily in a land of millions.”
“You are not as anonymous as you think. Your jacket is part of the Eton uniform. It will mark you anywhere as an Eton boy. The natives will wonder why you wander about when you should be at school instead—and they will remember you.”
She broke into a sweat. She could reveal herself so easily, without even being aware of it. “All I have to do is to change.”
She exchanged the jacket for a brown one from the valise.
“If only it were so easy. In the countryside, where everyone knows one another, you will be too conspicuous. So you must go into cities, where anonymity is possible. But you do not know which parts of a city are safe for a well-dressed young man, and which will get you robbed and possibly beaten. And before you reassure me again how handy you are with your fists, how many grown men can you take on at once, without resorting to elemental powers?”
“If you aim to convince me that every place out there is dangerous for me,” she retorted, “you have not succeeded.”
But he was coming awfully close.
“Every place out there is dangerous for you. Have you not realized this yet?”
She wished he wouldn’t speak so quietly and reasonably. “More dangerous than here? You will lead me to my death.”
“I will lay down my life for you. Do you know anyone else who will do that?”
I will lay down my life for you. The words had a strange effect on her, a pain almost like a wasp sting to the heart. She shut the valise. “Can you promise me I will live? No? I thought not.”
He was quiet. Saddened. She had not perceived it earlier, but now she saw that there was always a trace of melancholy to him, a heavyheartedness that came of being entrusted with too great a burden.
“I’m sorry,” she said, unable to help herself.
He walked to the window and looked toward the darkening sky. His left hand tightened on the curtain. She could not be completely sure, but it seemed that he shivered.
“What is it?” she asked.
He remained silent for some more time. “The stars are out. They will be quite beautiful tonight.”
He turned around and came toward her, his wand raised. She took a step back, uncertain of his intentions. But he only tailored the brown jacket to fit her.
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“If you are going to be caught by Atlantis, you might as well look your best.”
She wanted to snort coolly, but could do nothing of the sort. She seemed to have a ball of sawdust in her throat.
“So . . . this is good-bye.”
“It does not need to be.”
She shook her head. “You took the risks for a reason. Since I can’t give you what you want, I shouldn’t put you at further risk.”
“Let me decide how much risk I am willing to bear,” he said softly.
This almost undid her altogether. If he would shelter her even when she would not help him . . .
No, she must not let herself become starry-eyed again. “I can’t stay, but thank you, in any case, for telling me the truth.”
A shadow darkened his eyes before his face quickly became unreadable. He placed a hand on her shoulder. For a moment she thought he would pull her in and kiss her, but he only drew the pad of his thumb across her forehead, a princely benediction.
“May Fortune walk with you,” he said, and let go of her.
CHAPTER
DÉJÀ VU.
It seemed only moments ago that Iolanthe last stood in the same spot behind Mrs. Dawlish’s house, looking up at Fairfax’s window. Except then she was going toward safety. Now she was leaving for unknown dangers.
There was no movement behind the curtain, but the light remained on, a golden rectangle of comfort and refuge. She ought to be off, but she kept watching the window, hoping for things she had no more right to expect.
If only she didn’t feel so small and alone out here, like a lost child, in desperate need of a helping hand.
The hotel suite was out of the question. The ruined barn then. The memory of its leaky, muddy interiors did not appeal, but she closed her eyes and willed herself to traverse the distance.
The displacement did not happen. She tried again, still no use. The distance must be greater than her vaulting range. And since she didn’t know any places en route, she could not break the journey into smaller segments.
She kicked the nearest tree in frustration. Could her retreat be any more inept? She should have considered her course of action with much better care. Should have had an achievable destination in mind. And failing that, should have at least swiped the prince’s vaulting aid.
And put on a warmer jacket. Now that night had fallen, the temperature had taken a tumble. The brown jacket she had changed into was not quite thick enough to shield her from the chill. She hugged herself with her free hand.
The cold also made her realize she was hungry. She’d hardly eaten anything this entire day; her stomach was emptier than a midnight street.
If nothing else, she had to find some food.
She took one last look at Fairfax’s brightly lit window. If something were to happen to her, would the prince feel a tug of loss?
She shivered. She told herself it was only the cold. Besides, she didn’t need to go back to a place she’d already been. She’d put the English coins from the valise into her pocket. By walking along the streets of Eton, she’d probably find an inn where she could buy something to eat and a bed for the night.
In the morning things wouldn’t look so dire.
She inhaled deeply, shifted her valise to her left hand, and headed for the street. But she’d barely taken two steps when something made her look up.
The sky was a deep, cavernous blue. The prince was right: the stars were out, brilliant and countless. Leo. Virgo. Gemini. And there, Polaris, the North Star, anchoring the great celestial compass.
But what were those black dots high above, almost invisible against the darkness of the night? She squinted. Birds didn’t fly in a perfect diamond formation, did they?
The birds headed east and disappeared in the distance. Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, however, another group approached from the west, again in a perfect diamond formation.
This time, as they passed overhead, three birds broke formation. They circled, descending as they did so, until she saw the dull metallic glint of their bellies.
They were not birds, but the infamous armored chariots of Atlantis, aerial vehicles that could convey a single visiting dignitary, or shower rains of death upon mutinous populations.