“Oh, the poor boy!” cried Madame Lafitte. “Is he unwell?”
“I believe it’s because he hasn’t eaten,” Theo said, crouching down beside Carl and looking up at Ian as if asking him when Carl had eaten last.
Ian tried to think back to when he’d seen Carl eat, and realized with alarm that his last meal had been the breakfast roll they’d shared with the general. “He only had a bit of bread this morning,” he admitted.
“Oh, that won’t do,” said Monsieur Lafitte as he gently laid Carl down on the floor. “He’s far too thin to eat so little.”
“Margot!” called Madame Lafitte, and a maidservant rushed to her side. “Quickly, gather some pillows and a blanket for the lad until he comes round, and then we’ll need to get some nourishment into him immediately.”
The maidservant rushed off to do her mistress’s bidding and Ian watched with concern until he noticed that Océanne had also knelt down next to Theo and her mother and was holding Carl’s hand while wiping his brow. “Poor thing,” she said with a tsk.
Ian felt a knot of jealousy form in the pit of his stomach. He’d had only half a breakfast roll and a small sandwich and you didn’t seem him fainting at the first sign of a pretty girl.
Carl began showing signs of consciousness again. His hand gripped Océanne’s and his eyes fluttered. “I think he’s waking up,” Océanne said just as the maid arrived with a pillow and blanket.
“What’s happened?” Carl moaned as he tried to sit up.
Monsieur Lafitte placed a hand on Carl’s chest to ease him back down. “There, there,” he said, tucking the pillow under his head. “Lie still for a moment, lad.”
“How’d I get down here?” Carl asked, his eyes now focused and staring at them in confusion.
“You fainted in front of everyone,” Ian said bluntly, and tried not to notice when Theo gave him a reproachful glare.
“You’ve gone the whole day without a meal,” Theo said gently. “Ian and I had a nibble from the sandwich cart on the train, but you and the professor were asleep when the cart came past, and we thought it best not to disturb you. I’m so terribly sorry, Carl. I should have insisted we wake you up for a bite to eat.”
Carl blinked rapidly, as if he was trying hard to take in Theo’s rushed explanation. “S’alright, Theo,” he said, and this time he did sit up. “I’m fine, thank you all,” he added as everyone seemed to crowd closer to him.
“Yes, well, if you feel up to it, come with us to the dining hall, young man,” said Monsieur Lafitte, helping Carl to his feet.
By now Carl was looking rather sheepish and Ian felt a small pang of guilt for speaking so harshly to his friend. At least, he felt bad until he saw Océanne hold out her arm and say, “Lean on me, Carl. I’ll walk you to the table.”
Carl blushed and took her arm. “Thank you,” he said. “And might I say, that’s a lovely ribbon you’re wearing.”
The knot in Ian’s stomach expanded and he could feel himself settle into a foul mood. “What’s the matter?” Theo whispered as they were led directly to the dining hall.
“He’s making a show of it all, don’t you think?” Ian snapped irritably, pointing to Carl, who was walking ahead of them with Océanne.
“No,” Theo said. “I think he’s being quite good about it. After all, he fainted right in front of a group of strangers. I’d be horribly embarrassed if that happened to me.”
Ian knew she was right, but still, he couldn’t resist feeling angry with his friend as Carl continued to command Océanne’s attentions. Ian was drawn to the girl in a way he couldn’t quite describe. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on, and he desperately wanted her to look at him the way she was fondly eyeing Carl.
The Lafittes’ servants were already laying out several dishes filled to the brim with delicious-smelling food and Ian heard his stomach grumble. He stood back politely and waited for the adults to take their seats, noticing how Monsieur Lafitte pulled out the chair for his wife. Taking his cue from their host, Ian rushed to offer the same cordiality to Océanne. She smiled brightly at him and he felt his heart skip a beat.
Carl took the seat on the left of Océanne, and Ian was quick to take the right. Theo sat next to him and he noticed that she was struggling to hide a fit of giggles. “What?” he asked her innocently.
“Nothing,” she said, ducking her chin.
Ian scowled at her and waited for his dinner to be served while he struggled to come up with something witty to say to Océanne. At Monsieur Lafitte’s request, the professor was describing to their hosts the challenging time they’d had in the short day and a half they’d spent in Spain.
When he got to the point in his story when he admitted to falling asleep while attempting to copy the journal of his former colleague, and being shaken awake by Carl, Océanne turned to Carl and asked, “What happened next?”
Carl said, “Well, I followed Ian, who’d dashed out after Carmina. The cook had stolen the journal and she gave it over to a man in a lorry waiting on a nearby road. When I saw Ian sneak into the back of the lorry, I couldn’t very well let him go it alone, so I jumped in after him.”
“How very brave of you!” Océanne said.
Carl blushed and Ian ground his teeth together. “That?” Carl said. “Oh, that was nothing! You should have seen me dodge a bus in heavy traffic a bit later. Ian and I had to run for our lives when a wicked woman with a gun started shooting at us!”
Ian snorted derisively. “Sheer luck you weren’t killed,” he said bitterly, hearing the mockery in his own voice but unable to stop it. “And a load of good it did you! You had to cross right back through that traffic, didn’t you? Lucky for me a passing stranger was nearby. I’d have been done for if I’d relied on you, Carl.”
“Ian!” Theo whispered harshly, but he ignored her.
“Did you say that a woman was shooting at you?” gasped Madame Lafitte, her hand moving to cover her heart. “How dreadful!”
“The boys did have a rather perilous time of it,” the professor commented, obviously enjoying all the attention they were receiving from the Lafittes. “A very evil woman named Frau Van Schuft was after the journal and seemed determined to have it at any cost. She even shot at Ian and nicked him in the ear!”
Ian moved his hand to his ear when he noticed the shocked stares of everyone around him. “It only stings a little,” he said.
“I’ll treat that with some salt water after you’ve eaten, Ian,” Madame Lafitte promised.
“What happened next?” Océanne eagerly asked the professor.
The professor smiled and said, “Our brave lads managed to leap from the lorry, snatch back the journal, and attempt an escape. But Frau Van Schuft gave chase and corralled the boys on the streets of Madrid. If a very brave stranger hadn’t intervened, I daresay, they might not have survived the incident!”
To Ian’s immense frustration, Océanne looked at Carl with renewed adoration, and Ian simmered in his seat, pushing his food around, his appetite having all but left him. He said nothing more the rest of the evening unless directly asked, and all Theo’s efforts to pull him out of his foul mood were in vain.
Shortly after their evening meal, Madame Lafitte tended to Ian’s ear, making a point of assuring him that it wasn’t serious. A bit later, dessert was served in the parlor; then, when Ian and Theo began to yawn, it was suggested by the Lafittes that they allow their guests to retire, as the day had obviously been quite long for them. More inquiries were made into Carl’s well-being, and he reassured them over and over again that now that he’d had a bite to eat, he felt very well indeed.
They were led upstairs and shown to their rooms. To Ian’s irritation, he noted that he and Carl were to share a room again. Carl seemed oblivious to Ian’s current state of discord and talked incessantly about how pretty Océanne was and how delightfully nice as well. It wasn’t until Ian rolled over and snapped, “Would you please shut up, Carl? I’m trying to sleep!” that the roo
m fell silent, although the air grew heavy with discontent.
Exhausted though he was, Ian struggled to fall asleep. He knew he’d been both unfair and unkind to Carl, but he felt that his friend should have at least noticed that Ian was attracted to Océanne too, and not made such a show of her obvious preference for him.
Ian awoke several times that night, tossing and turning as his thoughts churned as well. His black mood carried over to the morning, and when at last he gave up his effort to get some much-needed rest, he sat up in bed and glared hard at the sleeping boy across the room, quite convinced by now that Carl was not half the friend he pretended to be.
Silently, Ian put on his trousers, noting with a snarl that it was no wonder Océanne hadn’t paid him the slightest attention—he was still dressed in his dirty and bloodstained nightshirt, for heaven’s sake!
With a heavy sigh he left the room and made his way downstairs, only to stop short as the front door opened and in walked the Earl of Kent. Ian’s mood immediately brightened. “My lord!” he called, and hurried down the last few steps. “You’ve come!”
“Good morning, Ian,” the earl said cordially. “Yes, I’ve made it at last. And my journey here was not without incident, I’m afraid.”
“What happened?” Ian asked, but at that moment Monsieur Lafitte came through the door as well. “My butler will show you to your room directly, Hastings, as I’m sure you’d appreciate the opportunity to freshen up.”
“That would be marvelous, thank you, Leopold,” said the earl kindly.
“Hastings!” called a voice from down the hall, and both the earl and Ian looked up as Madame Lafitte rushed toward them, her arms outstretched and the most delighted smile on her face.
But Ian was shocked that the earl seemed to stiffen as she drew near, and when the lady leaned in to throw her arms about him, the earl pulled away. “Madame,” the earl said cordially with a small bow. Ian noticed that the earl’s eyes never met hers. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance again. I trust you’ve been well?”
Madame Lafitte seemed equally surprised by the rebuff, but she recovered herself quickly. “Yes, Hastings,” she said, her hands fluttering at her collar as if she was suddenly nervous. “And you?”
“I’ve been well,” the earl said, his posture rigid and his speech a bit clipped.
There was an awkward sort of silence that followed, and Ian caught a look that passed between the Lafittes, as if they were disappointed but not surprised by the earl’s behavior. Even Ian knew that the earl was acting most unusually and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why the earl would treat someone as nice as Madame Lafitte so frostily.
The earl seemed to be aware of the uncomfortable silence, so he quickly bowed to his hostess before excusing himself to the room the Lafittes’ butler was ready to show him.
Ian moved out of the way so that the earl and the servant could climb the stairs, and as the earl passed, he whispered, “Come with me, lad.”
Ian followed dutifully all the way up to the third story, where the butler opened a set of double doors to reveal a large suite, painted a warm shade of apricot, with gold crown molding and a beautiful fresco adorning the ceiling. The butler offered to unpack for the earl, but was declined, and after the man had bowed himself out of the room, the earl turned wearily to the bed, sat down, and said, “I was unable to convince Señora Castillo to come along with me.”
“Do you still believe she’s in danger because of us?” Ian asked, feeling the weight of responsibility that must be resting on the earl’s shoulders.
“I do,” said the earl. “It was all I could do to convince her to question Carmina, who turned hateful the moment she was accused of stealing the journal. She actually attempted to turn the blame on you and Carl, suggesting the two of you took it in the night while the professor slept, and then you lads invented some outlandish story to cover your thievery.”
“But that’s a lie!” Ian said, outraged by the accusation.
“Yes, Ian,” said the earl, his eyes heavy with fatigue. “And if it weren’t for my title and the truth of who we all are, which I felt compelled to reveal to our hostess in light of the events, I should think Carmina’s accusations most convincing to Señora Castillo. I have given my word to return her brother’s diary to her, but I am worried about the consequences of doing that.”
“Why, my lord?” asked Ian, wondering what consequences could result from returning the diary to its rightful owner.
“Because of what the prophecy within its pages might reveal. If Magus’s spies are now aware of the journal and are also aware that it contains a copy of Laodamia’s last prophecy, I should think they would stop at nothing to obtain it.”
“There is reason to be concerned,” said a voice from the doorway, and Ian was startled to see the professor up and about so early. When they both looked at him in surprise, the professor added, “I heard you’d arrived, my lord, and thought it best to talk with you as soon as possible.”
“Of course, Professor,” the earl said, waving him into the room. “Tell us what you’ve discovered.”
Ian noticed that the professor was carrying the tattered remains of the journal. “I had thought to simply begin copying the text within again and translate it later, but sadly, there is very little left of Barnaby’s notes.”
Ian felt a pang of guilt. “The motorcar that ran over it made a terrible wreck of it, sir,” he said by way of explanation.
“It did indeed,” the professor agreed with a tired sigh. “Still, there is some of the prophecy left, and I’ve managed to translate it.”
“So quickly?” asked the earl.
The professor frowned. “That’s how little of it remains, I’m afraid.” Ian stared at the floor. He felt terribly responsible for the diary’s condition. “I’m assuming Laodamia’s last prophecy does concern the children?” the earl said.
“Yes,” said the professor, but he said nothing more. Ian looked up from the floor and saw that the old man seemed to be struggling with a decision. The professor looked gravely at Ian, and it was as though he wasn’t sure if he should comment further. Finally, however, the professor gave another sigh and said, “The text talks about you specifically, Ian.”
“It does?” Ian was surprised but knew he shouldn’t be. Most of Laodamia’s prophecies mentioned him.
The professor shuffled over to a nearby chair and sat down. He adjusted his glasses and carefully opened a folded piece of paper. “Yes, but first I must suggest that although you are mentioned, I do not believe that this prophecy was meant to be seen by you.”
Ian’s eyes widened. How could Laodamia not want him to see a prophecy that mentioned him specifically? After all, she’d written her other prophecies directly to him. “What makes you think she wouldn’t want me to see it, Professor?”
“It is written in the traditional Phoenician script, my boy. Not like any of the other prophecies that Laodamia left for you in her silver treasure boxes. And after reading what’s left of this one, I believe I know why.”
Ian didn’t know what to say, but his heart began to hammer. He knew there was some terrible prediction contained within that journal, and he could only imagine what it might be. Still, he found he didn’t have the courage to ask about it.
But the earl did. “Tell us what the Oracle said, Professor. Please.”
Professor Nutley took a deep breath and began to read the text. “‘The salvation for all mankind shall rest with the Guardian when the Eye of Zeus passes from the Guardian to the One. The One shall be an Oracle of unparalleled ability, with gifts like no other. The Guardian shall protect the One at the time of greatest peril, during the gathering, and upon the completion of the gathering of the seven. The One shall then draw upon the power of the other six Oracles destined for battle. These seven United will stand for the cause, to form a mighty alliance against the dreaded four.’”
The earl eyed Ian, the man’s posture slumped slightly, as if he carried a gr
eat burden. “Wasn’t it you who recovered Theo’s crystal, the eye of Zeus, from the wreckage of the keep last year?”
Ian nodded gravely. “Yes, my lord.”
The earl and the professor shared a look. “I am convinced that Theo is the One that Laodamia speaks of,” the professor said.
“Then we should assume that Ian is the Guardian,” said the earl. With a soft smile for Ian, he added, “He’s been her protector from the moment she entered my keep.”
Ian felt his cheeks heat under the earl’s gaze. “The gathering of the six Oracles, we already know that’s part of the quest Laodamia’s set out for us. And Theo must be the seventh that will draw on the energy of the other six, which makes perfect sense really, because Laodamia tells us in both of her prophecies that Theo is the first and the last of the Oracles. We’ve already acquired one of the other six and that’s Jaaved, our Seeker.”
“Yes,” the professor agreed. “And it is also obvious that the dreaded four she speaks of are Magus, Caphiera, Atroposa, and Lachestia.”
“Is that all she says?” the earl asked, and Ian knew from the professor’s face that there was more.
The professor sighed again and gave a reluctant shake of his head. “No, my lord, there is more and I must warn you that this next bit is terribly troubling.”
“What does it say?” Ian asked, even though a part of him was sure he didn’t want to know.
Again the professor appeared reluctant to speak; he scowled down at his translation and took a moment before he read from it again. “‘There can be only one event that will throw the United off their path and doom the fate of man: a time of grave danger shall come when the sorceress of earth shall arise from her stony tomb to take the life of the Guardian. And with the Guardian’s demise, the One shall quickly fall, for none alive can stall this fate. If the Guardian perishes and the One falls before the time of gathering is complete, no hope can be given to the way of man.’”
After the professor finished speaking, there was a gasp from the hall, and everyone turned to see Theo standing as still as a statue in the doorway, her face pale and her large green eyes brimming with moisture. “No!” she cried hoarsely, then flew across the room to hug Ian fiercely.