most dangerous places in the Crucible. “My mother once saw Fairfax in a vision, standing atop Black Bastion. Afterward she changed the illustration for Helgira in all the copies of the Crucible to which she had access.”
Kashkari and Amara exchanged a look.
“So I can see what she actually looks like, Iolanthe Seabourne?” murmured Aramia. “Is she as beautiful as Mother?”
“Other than the Inquisitor, every woman I know is more beautiful than Lady Callista.”
His words did not sit well with Aramia. “Mother has never harmed you.”
“Maybe not, but no one who is that selfish is ever truly beautiful. Kashkari, Durga Devi, start decelerating.”
Black Bastion loomed ahead, massive and forbidding. The last time he had approached it had been when Fairfax saved him from a phantom-behemoth-riding Bane. He had trembled with gratitude as he had landed on the upper terrace and slid off his steed. And once he had realized that the young woman who stood waiting for him was not Helgira, but his faithful friend . . .
This time it would only be Helgira, ruthless and unforgiving.
Soldiers surrounded them the moment they landed on the rampart of Black Bastion. “We’ve been attacked!” Titus cried. “The Mad Wizard of Hollowcombe promised the peasants land and riches in exchange for our lives.”
It was more or less the same ruse he had used the previous time he had passed through—except with the necessary changes to accommodate his three companions. The ruse worked more or less as well as it had earlier in getting the suspicious captain to summon his soldiers and escort them down the rampart into the fortress.
The great hall was merry and crowded. There was music and dancing. Helgira, clad all in white, her long black hair cascading, sat at the center of a long table upon a great dais, drinking from a chalice of gold.
He ought to know better. He did know better, and yet he stopped dead. Four spears pressed into his back—and already he could feel a dull throb where Helgira had sliced his arm open. Still he could not move a single step.
Behind him the captain chuckled, “Gets ’em bumpkins every time, she does.”
The déjà vu was so strong he was dizzy.
Helgira raised her hand. The musicians halted. The dancers retreated to either side of the hall, clearing a path in the middle.
Titus was shoved forward. Slowly Helgira stood up. Already he felt her rage at his insolence. Watching her rise to her full height inspired the same dread and awe as seeing Fairfax’s bolt of lightning, the one that surged up from the desert floor to take down half a dozen wyverns at once.
The captain smacked him on the side of his head and yelled at him for disrespect. He sank to his knees, but he did not lower his gaze as he repeated his tale. Let her knife slice through him again. What was a little blood and agony when he was already headed for his end?
She walked off the dais and slowly approached him. Had he finished telling his story? He had not the slightest idea. He only knew that he dared not say another word before the fury that emanated from her.
Had he enraged her this much last time? Did it matter?
“Forgive me, my lady,” he croaked, not even certain what he was saying.
She slapped him so hard he was sure his neck snapped. Then she slapped him again, backhand, on his other cheek.
As he reeled, she growled, “You may rise and follow me, the four of you.”
The sound of her voice stunned him. He remembered Helgira’s voice, high and sharp. But the syllables that issued from the woman before him were low, almost gravelly.
She was not Helgira. She was Fairfax.
CHAPTER 14
THE LETTER FROM LADY WINTERVALE to the Master of the Domain, dating from the beginning of his very first Half at Eton, read,
Your Noble, Serene Highness,
It is with both pleasure and sadness that I welcome you to England. I should not be here and neither should you. But since we are, we must make the best of it.
We Exiles have had to abandon a great many traditions, which probably explains the fervor with which I made a place at Eton for my son, Leander. You may not remember him, but he does remember you from his childhood days in the Domain, and he is very much looking forward to being your companion at school—a role my uncle served for your grandfather, and Lady Callista for your mother.
I always loved your mother dearly—many, many