Iolanthe shared a rail compartment with Cooper and Sutherland, where they played a game of vingt-et-un, betting halfpennies on the outcome of each hand. In the next compartment, the other three boys maintained an unbroken silence. Before they boarded the train, the prince had pulled her aside and let her know that Wintervale was under the effect of panacea. She had nodded and walked back to Cooper.
Vingt-et-un was the easiest nonmage card game she had played yet, since she had only to worry about the numbers on her cards adding up as close to twenty-one as possible without going over. But even so, she begged off from further rounds after they changed trains in London. Leaving the compartment, she stood in the corridor, staring out of the window as the city’s outskirts rushed by, street lamps and illuminated windows growing more and more sparse as they headed into the countryside.
The door of the next compartment opened and closed. Her heart twisted. But the person who came to stand next to her was not Titus, but Kashkari.
“I was sorry to hear that you might leave us,” he said.
He was talking about the Fairfaxes and cattle ranching in Wyoming Territory.
“All I wanted was for everything to continue as before. But changes come and I can’t stop them.” She glanced at him. “You know how it is.”
Kashkari smiled faintly. “In my case it was more like, ‘Be careful what you wish for.’ I have always wanted to meet the girl of my dreams.”
“Love at first sight, eh?”
“More like astonishment at first sight.”
“She is that beautiful?”
Kashkari had a faraway look in his eyes. “Yes, she is, but I have always known what she looks like. I was shocked to see her in the flesh, when and where I least expected it.”
They must have passed a church; the sound of bells tolling was just audible above the rumble of the train. Iolanthe wondered, half in despair, whether there was anything more for her to say than “I’m sorry.” She truly felt terrible for him—and she wished she had better comfort to offer than tired phrases that had no meaning anymore.
Then she was staring at Kashkari. I have always known what she looks like. The girl of my dreams. “Do you mean to tell me, you have literally seen her at night, as you lie asleep?”
Kashkari sighed. “Except my dreams failed to let me know that she would be engaged to my brother.”
Was Kashkari talking about prophetic dreams? “Remember last Half, when you told me that an astrologer advised you to attend Eton? My knowledge of astrology is very shallow, but enough to know that the stars rarely give such specifics. Was the astrologer interpreting a dream for you instead?”
“Good deduction. Yes, he was.”
“What did you see?”
“The first dream had me walking around Eton. I didn’t know where I was, but after I’d seen the same dream a few times, I asked my father about this school in an English river town, with the ramparts of a castle visible in the distance. I drew for him the outline of the castle. He didn’t recognize it, but when he showed it to a friend who’d been to England several times, the friend did, and said it looked like Windsor Castle.
“I didn’t go to the astrologer with that dream—I thought it simply meant I would someday visit the area. But then I started seeing a different dream, of dressing myself in these strange, non-Indian clothes and looking in the mirror. We found out that the clothes were the Eton uniform. That was when we consulted the astrologer, who said my stars proclaimed that I would spend most of my youth away from home. After the consultation, my mother turned to me and said, ‘I guess now we know where you are headed.’”
“That’s . . . rather amazing,” said Iolanthe, rather amazed.
She didn’t know nonmages dreamed like this about the future, but it was narrow-minded of her to assume that only mages could tap into the flow of time, since visions had nothing to do with either subtle or elemental magic.
“It sounds occult, so I don’t go around telling everyone. I mean, people here are very fond of their séances, but still.”
“I understand,” said Iolanthe.
They were nearing Slough when she remembered to ask, “So . . . does this mean you weren’t in love with the girl of your dreams, only that you kept seeing her?”
She hoped so for Kashkari’s sake.
“I wish.” Kashkari sighed. “I have been in love with her all my life.”
Titus knocked on Fairfax’s door. “You there, Fairfax?”
A long silence elapsed before her response came. “Yes.”
A high wall of an answer. Yes, I am here, but you are not welcome.
It was almost lights-out at Mrs. Dawlish’s. One last batch of boys was coming out of the lavatory. Hanson asked whether anyone had seen his Greek lexicon, which prompted Rogers to run to his room and get it. Sutherland, whose room was across from Cooper’s, called for Cooper to open his door; when Cooper did, a pair of socks flew across the width of the corridor, along with a “You took off your socks in my room again!”
She had loved this: the normalcy and silliness of so many boys squeezed into tight quarters. Titus set his hand against her door and wished that he could force time to flow backward. “Good night,” he said, hating the futility of it all.
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