The Perilous Sea (The Elemental Trilogy #2)

When he was done, he and Master Haywood together carried Lady Callista to the chaise longue in the sitting room.

“Master Haywood,” Iolanthe said. “Is there any chance you might have changed your mind about leaving this place?”

Master Haywood began to shake his head, but then he stopped. A smile slowly broke out on his face. “Now that you asked again, Iola, I do believe I have had quite enough of this place.”



Lady Callista remained unconscious after the time freeze expired.

“Not to worry,” said Titus. “As memory spells take effect, it is not uncommon for a mage to remain unconscious for up to an hour.”

Master Haywood sighed. “Alas, I had thought her so very charming.”

“We need to check you for any tracers that might be on your person,” Titus said to Master Haywood.

As they searched, Iolanthe asked, “How did you meet Lady Callista, Master Haywood?”

“Through my friend Eirene. You might know her as Commander Rainstone, the regent’s chief security adviser, Your Highness,” said Master Haywood, with a deferential half bow toward the prince.

Strange how she knew both men so well, yet they were essentially strangers to each other. And Master Haywood, at least, seemed determined to observe every etiquette.

“I do know her in that capacity. Please go on,” said Titus.

“I met Eirene—Commander Rainstone—for coffee and she told me that she was meeting her friend Lady Callista at Eugenides Constantinos’s bookshop afterward and asked if I’d like to come along. I said I did, so that was how it happened.”

Iolanthe removed Master Haywood’s shoes and socks to make sure they were free of tracers. “And what was Lady Callista doing at the bookshop? She does not strike me as someone with a keen interest in books.”

“She said she was there to buy a book that a friend of hers had defaced. Her company was such a pleasure, I volunteered to buy the book for her.”

“The Complete Potion.”

“Yes, how did you guess?”

Iolanthe bit the inside of her cheek. “You always hauled that book everywhere with us, even though you said it was a terrible book.”

“Yes, sentimental value. She was beautiful, but I was struck by the vividness of her presence. I always thought it was a shame that I never saw her again, though I had every intention of doing so.” Master Haywood fell silent as he realized that he was speaking from incomplete memories. “Perhaps it would have been better if I really never saw her again.”

“Speaking for myself, this is the most charming I have ever seen her,” said Titus. “At least she was truthful, for once. My guess is there is still truth serum remaining in her system from her latest interrogation.”

Once they were satisfied that Master Haywood did not have any tracers on his person, and that they themselves had not picked up any either, Iolanthe suddenly realized she had not planned for where to take him.

“Should we put you up at a different hotel for now, until we find a more permanent lodging?” she asked.

“I have a place that I would gladly put at your disposal,” said Titus to Master Haywood. “If you do not mind that it is on the other side of the English Channel.”

On the other side of the English Channel?

Paris.



Autumn in Paris bore little resemblance to its counterpart in London. The air was cool but crisp, the sky blue, and the tall, clear windows up and down the quiet boulevard ablaze with the light of the lowering sun. The apartment the prince had chosen had spacious rooms, high ceilings painted a soft gold, and enormous paintings of nonmages dressed in clothes from a different era, frolicking in a nostalgia-tinged countryside.

Iolanthe, even with her headache from having been vaulted nearly a hundred fifty miles—though split into three segments—was enchanted. “It’s a lovely place.”

Titus gave her another dose of vaulting aid. “The concierge below is under the impression that there are several people in the family—an uncle, and a niece and a nephew who are twins. So she will not be surprised to see either a young man or a young woman come by—or an older man.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out cases of calling cards for Mr. Rupert Franklin, Mr. Arthur Franklin, and Miss Adelia Franklin. “The bakery around the corner is quite good. The brasserie likewise. Three times a week there is a market on the square down the road. And the Franklin family has an account with the Banque de Paris that should last you years.”

“So this is what you have been doing in Paris,” Iolanthe said softly, more than a little bowled over by everything he had done.

“Part of it.”

“Part of it? What was the other part, then?”

He led them down a corridor toward another room. It had been set up with a large desk at the center, and shelves on the walls. Iolanthe recognized some of the equipment on the desk as having come from the laboratory.