Chapter 57

Alastair’s stomach dropped. “Where? What? How!”

“It’s complicated,” she said, opening her notebook. Alastair’s head swam as he scanned down line after line of equations in Sebastian’s cramped cursive. “He was able to pinpoint a rough geographic area for me, and while you and your friend talked, I did some Scrying within it. Used herbs, actually, just like Billy, for part of it.”

“So your materials came in?”

“Just today,” she said. “I’ve had everything else in order. That was my last bit.”

Alastair resigned himself to never fully understanding what they’d done. “Where is he?”

“Headmaster!” a voice shouted behind them.

Then another, “Headmaster!”

Alastair turned to see the Rock brothers rushing toward him. They were in bad shape.

“What happened to you two?” Alastair asked with genuine concern.

“We were in the old city,” Dwayne said.

“And someone must have been upset we were snooping around,” Vin added.

“We never even saw them,” Dwayne picked up.

“Hit us with so many hexes I couldn’t count,” Vin agreed.

“Slow down,” Alastair said. “Are you alright?”

They both nodded. “We had our shields up and were ready for an attack.”

Vin pointed to his black eye. “I tripped and hit my face on a rock. Wasn’t even them that done this.”

“But I think we know where they are holding him,” Dwayne said. “Or at least what part of the city.”

“Ms. Shadow and Mr. Shelley discovered something as well,” Alastair said.

“13 Aubergine Road,” Amaryllis said as if annoyed she’d been interrupted. “It’s in the old part of the city.”

“Just like we said,” Vin said.

“Right, well I can’t see inside—it’s warded and I don’t want to attract their attention—but the door matches the description you have, from what I’ve seen.”

“That’s fantastic.” Alastair committed the address to memory. “All of you. Great work. So we can—”

What? Do some kind of sting operation?

The idea was a little absurd. As Ari had pointed out, they were academics, not soldiers. Were they going to break down the door and start hurling curses?

“We know where he is now,” Amaryllis said gently, seeming to sense where his train of thought was running. “And we did well in the battle against the undead.”

“That was partly thanks to Eloise’s creepy familiar,” Alastair said.

“Which she still has. And which we could use again, if she can control him.”

“Right. Right now, it’s late, and their guard is up.”

“Thanks to these two,” Amaryllis said, hard eyes landing on them.

“Thanks to us? We found him just as fast as you with all your fancy Scrying,” Dwayne said. “We can take ’em, right Vin?”

“Bloody right, we can.”

“We aren’t going after him tonight,” Alastair said. “We need a real plan. Besides, I think something is going to happen at the Dueling League finals tomorrow, and we all need to be prepared.”

Alastair wished he could duplicate himself—for real, not using an Illusion spell—and let one version handle his regular headmaster duties while the other dealt with the various crises of the year.

“Dueling?” Dwayne said incredulously. “Are you out of your bleeding mind? We’re gonna worry about dueling?”

“We still have jobs, Dwayne,” Alastair said, hoping he’d gotten the twin’s name right. Since there was no objection, he assumed he had. “The students have been preparing for this. We’ve sold tickets. We have to honor the agreement, regardless of what else might be troubling us. I promise, we will put a plan together first chance we can get the whole of the faculty together. For now, since Gold’s people know you’re looking for him, we take a beat.”

“That’s hogwash,” Vin said. “I’m going after him.”

Alastair got angry—more than he’d been all year. “You will not. That is an order.”

“Or what?” Dwayne said, taking a step forward.

“Or I’ll be forced to relieve you both of your positions at Emberstone.”

The twins laughed. “You can’t do that.”

“Yes, he can,” Amaryllis said. “And every member of this staff would back him.”

The twins glared at them, but after muttering a few choice words that Alastair couldn’t believe they’d say in front of a lady, they stormed off into the castle to nurse their wounds.

“The nerve,” Amaryllis said.

“They’re just worried,” Alastair countered. “We all should be.”

“What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” Alastair admitted. “You feel the energy in the air, right? Something’s coming.”

“I’ve tried to look into it,” she said. “Used every method I have. But the day is cloudy. There are too many possibilities; too many ways things could go. I’ve seen every option from ‘nothing’ to ‘catastrophe.’”

“Well, that’s heartening.”

“If it makes a difference, they’re equally unlikely outcomes. The probable thing is that something happens but it doesn’t lead to total destruction.”

Alastair scrunched his face. “Probable. Not definite.”

“Well, no. That’s not really how future Scrying works. Didn’t you finish the workbook?”

He hadn’t. Once the exercises became harder, once school was back in session, time had gotten away from him as it always did. There was never enough time.

“Finish it,” she said, correctly reading his expression. “It might help to clarify things. And I’ll be at the matches tomorrow. We all will be. Ready for anything.”

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“Ready for anything,” he sighed.

Maybe nothing would happen and the final would go off without a hitch. That couldn’t be entirely ruled out.

His sleep was troubled that night, and he woke before dawn with a start.

* * *

Today’s the day.

He rolled out of bed, opened the window, and peered out. Gray light painted the horizon, and the air smelled of wild flowers. It would be a perfect day to walk along the river and enjoy the spring air. Instead, he dressed quickly, scarfed down a muffin, and headed down into the hall where the final tournament was to take place. Quicksilver was already there setting up. He gave Alastair a strained nod when he saw him.

“All well?” Alastair said.

“All well so far, sir.”

Alastair had brought his paperwork, hoping to get some of it cleared before the matches, but he couldn’t focus. He just wanted to get to the tournament and get it over with. That thought in mind, he lent a hand to Quicksilver and staff, though he imagined he was more a hinderance than a help.