of the Crucible. “Atlantis already confiscated the Citadel’s copy and Your Highness’s personal copy. I didn’t want the last copy still in our possession to be found and taken.”
Titus smoothed his fingers across the aged leather cover. “Thank you, Dalbert. My gratitude is immense. But you must know that it can no longer be used as a portal, not while the other copies are held by Atlantis.”
“I beg to differ, sire. I heard from Miss Seabourne today while Your Highness was still in transit.”
“Is she well?” The question left Titus like a shot.
They were only a thousand miles apart—they had been separated by far greater distances in the time they had known each other, or even during the past forty-eight hours. But this time it was not merely physical space that divided them, but the line between life and death.
He was already dead. But she could still live.
“She made no mention of her health,” answered Dalbert, “but I feel confident in deducing that she is safe, at least.”
Safe, at least. He supposed that was all he could ask for, though he wanted so much more. “And what did she say?”
“She reported that Master Kashkari received a message in the two-way notebook he had left behind. She begged Master Kashkari’s pardon, but under the circumstances she felt she had no choice but to guess the password and read the message.”
“I would have urged her to do the same,” said Kashkari.
“The message was from Mrs. Hancock.”
A collective intake of breath reverberated in the stone chamber.
“According to Miss Seabourne,” Dalbert continued, “about a week ago, on the night of the disappearance of a student named West, the Oracle of Still Waters said to Mrs. Hancock something along the lines of ‘Yes, you have seen it before.’”
“I remember that,” said Titus. “Mrs. Hancock thought the Oracle meant the Crucible, which she had seen many times in my room, before I took it away.”
“As it turned out, the Oracle did mean the Crucible, but a different copy, which Mrs. Hancock now remembers that she had seen in the library at Royalis.”
Royalis was the lavish palatial complex in Lucidias, the capital of Atlantis.
This time Titus did leave his seat. “Fortune shield me. My grandfather told us the fourth copy of the Crucible had been lost. But it never had been.”
Instead, Prince Gaius must have sent the copy as a gift to the Bane. That must be how he had sent in the exceptional spy who had managed to get a good look at the rings of defense outside the Commander’s Palace.
And that copy of the Crucible had remained on the shelf of the library at Royalis all these years, gathering dust.
Dalbert also came to his feet. “I see the news pleases you, sire.”
It did. And it terrified him too.
But he only nodded. Then he turned to Kashkari and Amara. “It would appear that we have found another way into Atlantis.”
After they had gone over the logistics, Amara wished to spend some time in prayer and asked Kashkari to join her. This left Titus and Dalbert alone.
“Miss Seabourne asked that I keep an eye on your back, sire,” said Dalbert. “May I take a look at it?”
Titus had nearly forgotten about his injury. Despite his strenuous day, his back had not hurt. Dalbert too pronounced himself satisfied—apparently the remedies had worked as they ought to and he did not need to be bandaged anymore.
They sat down again around the dining table. “Any more questions I can answer for you, sire?”
Dalbert knew him very well—something else Titus had failed to appreciate. He exhaled. He might as well, as the opportunity would not come again. “I encountered mentions of my father in my mother’s diary for the first time this morning. You served my mother during the time of their courtship. What can you tell me about him?”
Dalbert seemed to be considering his choice of words. “He was . . . a simple man, simple in the best sense of the word—frank, kind, and lively without being silly or irresponsible. Had I a daughter or a sister, I would have been pleased if she’d brought home such a young man.”
“But?”
“But my daughter or sister would not someday become the Mistress of the Domain. She would not be expected to face complicated and difficult situations—or deal with a hostile enemy that required the most careful and delicate of handling. Your father would not have been an asset to a woman in such an environment—but a liability. A princely house is