The Perilous Sea (The Elemental Trilogy #2)

It is Titus—or at least I think it is Titus, perhaps ten years or so older than he is now, a boy of sixteen or seventeen, lean and handsome. Next to him is another boy, about the same age, good-looking, but in a way that was almost too pretty for a young man. They seem to be standing on the bank of a lake or a river, tossing pebbles, but I do not recognize the place as any I have ever visited.

“I am going to bring down the Bane,” Titus says.

I had to step away from my desk for a moment to collect myself. So this is what all the other visions had been leading up to. For the thousandth time, I wish I had never been cursed with this “gift.”

“Why?” asks the other boy, sounding as afraid and flabbergasted as I feel.

“Because that is what I am meant to do,” Titus replies, with an adamantine certainty.



He snapped the diary shut. It was the conversation he and Fairfax had on the bank of the Thames, when he had told her about their destiny.

“Remember, this does not diminish your mother’s power as a seer,” Fairfax said urgently.

No, but it cast doubt on her interpretation of everything. Princess Ariadne wrote that there was to be one partner for Titus because the future Titus had said so. But the future Titus had said so because Princess Ariadne had written so. It was a complete and vicious paradox.

“Fortune shield me, what does this mean?” he heard himself mumble. “Is there a Chosen One or not?”

It had been the most gut-wrenching thing to do to tell Fairfax that she was not part of his destiny, but he had done it without hesitation because, as he told her, one did not argue with the force of destiny. Now, however, the force of destiny was proving itself to be nothing more than a wobbly conundrum.

“Does it matter?” she asked.

“How can it not matter? If there is no Chosen One, then what am I, the one whose task is to train and guide the Chosen One, supposed to do?”

She turned his chair around so that he faced her. “Listen to me. Forget how she interpreted everything—visions are and have always been squirrelly things. Look instead at what her visions have led you to accomplish: you saved me twice and you brought down the Inquisitor, the Bane’s most capable lieutenant.

“You mother died because Atlantis wanted her dead. You were always going to be an implacable enemy of Atlantis. You were always going to do your best to upend the Bane’s reign. The only difference was that Princess Ariadne made sure that you were ready far sooner than you would otherwise have been.

“Wintervale doesn’t need to be the One to take up his wand against Atlantis—he wants to be part of something greater than himself. I don’t need to be the One either—if I can make a difference, then I am willing do to my utmost. But we do need you—you are better prepared to bring down the Bane than any other mage on Earth. So don’t tell me that you don’t know what you ought to do anymore. Your role hasn’t changed at all. Dust yourself off and get back to it.”

He looked into her eyes and felt some of his despair drain away. “So you do not think everything I have done is in vain?”

“No, I don’t think anything you’ve ever done has been in vain. It will all come to fruition someday. And furthermore, I’m convinced you will live to see that day.”

He took her hands in his. “When the time comes, will you come to Atlantis with Wintervale and me?”

“I will.” She kissed him on his hair. “Now go get some sleep. The road is long yet.”



“I can’t believe it,” said Cooper, looking at the calling card. “Low Creek Ranch, Wyoming Territory. Are you really leaving us?”

Iolanthe walked to Cooper’s window. “Won’t be too long now. And I’ll really miss this easy life.”

Cooper came to stand next to her. “You know what? Maybe someday I’ll run away and join you in Wyoming Territory. At least I won’t have to be a lawyer, if I’m herding cattle.”

“Good luck finding me. I’ll bet this godforsaken ranch is three hundred roadless miles away from the nearest railway station. You’ll be better off applying to the prince to become his secretary.”

“You know what I would like? I would like to see my future, so I can stop worrying about it.”

Iolanthe snorted and shook her head.

“Oh, look, there’s West. I think he is coming to Mrs. Dawlish’s.” Cooper opened the window, his dreaded future as an unwilling lawyer momentarily forgotten. “West, are you coming inside? Have you seen where I got brained by a flying tile?”

He no longer needed to wear his bandage, but he still enjoyed showing off the scab.

“Yes, I am coming inside,” said West, already dressed in his cricket kit. “Thought I’d have a look at Wintervale, but I’ll gladly inspect your war wounds too, Cooper.”