space between his brows, his head throbbing. “My mother saw two young mages getting as far as the outermost ring of the Commander’s Palace. Are we giving that up too?”
It was Kashkari’s turn to rest his forehead against the edge of the mantel. “Damned if we do and damned if we don’t.”
Titus rose to his feet, drained. “Debattuimur omni modo.”
“You can say that again.”
He took a vial from his pocket. “I brought some sleep remedies. Two pilules are calibrated to give me four hours of uninterrupted sleep. The effect might vary for you.”
“Will they affect my dreams?”
“They should not.”
“Then I will gladly accept them. Thank you.”
Twenty minutes later Titus was back in the lighthouse, after covering the distance on his flying carpet. Fairfax was still sleeping. He swallowed a dose of sleep remedy, lay down, and wrapped his arm around her.
She sighed softly in her sleep.
He laid his head in the crook of her shoulder. While Kashkari talked, it had been easy to accept that prophetic dreams might be no more than warnings. But in the silent darkness, a lifetime of ardent belief in the supremacy of prophecies reasserted itself.
True seers were never wrong in what they saw. Sometimes, as his mother had, they misinterpreted the significance of their visions. But he had yet to come across an instance where his mother erred in her recording of events. Nor did he have any reason to suppose that Kashkari was any more prone to such mistakes.
To have an unambiguous outcome already specified, and then to try to prevent just that outcome . . . His mind overflowed with all kinds of spectacular ways for everything to go wrong—and for Fairfax to end up dead anyway.
He was grateful when the sleep remedy finally manifested its powers and pulled him under.
A summer day. A clear blue sky dotted by clouds as white and fluffy as spring lambs. Crowds as far as the eyes could see, men in gleaming top hats, women in straw boaters with fluttering pastel ribbons. On the riverbank, boys were ready to launch their boats, boys wearing black-and-white-striped jackets and hats trimmed like a flower seller’s baskets.
The Fourth of June.
“Fortune shield me,” Titus groaned. “Not this circus again.”
“Oh, come,” Fairfax countered cheerfully, poking him in the arm. “Deep down you love it passionately. And you can’t wait to come back each year.”
“That is not true. Deep down I tolerate it passionately and give thanks that it comes around only once a year.”
“In either case, you always enjoy yourself. So spare me the— Wait, here comes Cooper. In which case, carry on with your melodramatic moaning, but put some majesty into it. You know he lives to hear you judge everything as unworthy.”
Indeed, there was Cooper, with the same round eyes and eager face, except he had acquired a considerable paunch. His trousers, which had not been tailored to accommodate for this extra girth, now hung an inch too short.
Titus opened his eyes abruptly and stared, disoriented, at the bare, unfamiliar ceiling. The entire room was bare, almost drab: white-painted walls, a desk, a washstand, and a bed with a nightstand.
It was only as his eyes settled on the other occupant of the bed that all the events of the previous night came rushing back.
“Good morning,” said Fairfax, smiling a little. It was only a quarter after five, but she was already dressed. She sat against a pair of pillows, a book open on her knees. “How are you feeling, Your Highness, after the most utterly wonderful night of your life?”
For the first time in his life, he wished he had Kashkari’s gift. So that his dream would come true, a dream in which their lives did not end on Atlantis, but extended far enough into the future for Cooper, who was currently as lean as Titus, to have nurtured a sizable belly with good food and comfortable living.
He sat up, his heart as heavy as the foundation of the lighthouse. “There is something I must tell you.”
She flipped a page of the book on her knees—belatedly he recognized it as his mother’s diary, blank as usual. “I thought so. Let’s hear it.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “Will you give me a moment?”
He was not accustomed to facing the day, let alone this kind of a day, in only a set of flannel pajamas. He kissed her on the cheek, left the room, and returned fully dressed, necktie, shirt studs, and cuff links perfectly in place.
“That bad, eh?” she