Despite her feelings on the matter, she could not help but want to be there with the king. No, not the king, but with Zachary, the man. She’d met no other like him and doubted she ever would.

He turned, once again facing her, and looked up, almost as if gazing into her eyes. She inhaled sharply.

“Your Majesty?” she whispered.

He gazed thoughtfully back at her, or so it seemed. She felt as if she could almost reach out and touch him, but his gaze shifted away suddenly, and it was a sundering that hurt almost physically. Another entered the vision, this time a Green Rider with red hair that could only be Captain Mapstone.

“Karigan?”

The professor’s voice echoed through the vast space. Karigan jerked back in shock, and the image in each shard fluttered like a candle flame and then darkened as if snuffed. As King Zachary’s image vanished, she cried out, feeling so alone in her exile.

“Well, hello there!” The professor appeared at the end of the aisle, then made his way toward her. “We did not expect to see the lights ignited on this level.” He did not sound angry.

Karigan found she could not speak or move, only hold herself and stare at empty mirror shards.

“What is it?” the professor asked as he neared her. “You look troubled.”

Troubled was an understatement. She had lost everything, everyone.

The professor glanced at her possessions, then back. “Oh, I see. You are homesick.” His voice was gentle. “No doubt the presence of the Eletian has brought thoughts of your home to the fore.”

To Karigan’s disgust, her eyes brimmed with tears.

“There, there, my dear.” At first the professor patted her shoulder, then awkwardly he embraced her. “I am so sorry. It must be unbelievably difficult for you, and it’s been a long night, too, eh?”

Karigan leaned into him, actually comforted by his stiff attempt at an embrace, the texture of his tweed coat pressing into her cheek. Then they parted, and she sniffed. She had managed to avoid a blubbering torrent, and for that much she was grateful.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just needed to—” She waved her arm vaguely at the artifact room to indicate her trespass.

“I understand, my dear. No need to explain. These items are reminders of your home.”

She nodded, and let him believe that was all.

“Professor?” Cade called from the end of the aisle. “Is everything all right back there?”

“Everything’s just fine,” he replied, and he extended his arm to Karigan. “Shall we?”

She nodded and took his arm. They strolled down the aisle, and she did not look back. As they approached Cade, who stood in the shadow of the shelves, she saw him as a Weapon in black, still and silent, and it seemed right, as if this was the way it had always been. For a moment, she forgot where and when she was, just pleased to see the familiar visage of a Weapon. In the next moment her vision cleared, and she saw he was, in fact, not a Weapon but just Cade in his poor student’s garb. She shook her head at the trick light and shadow had played on her.

“It’s been a long night, Old Button,” the professor said, “and I think a little sleep would do each of us a world of good.”

• • •

Karigan remained silent during their walk through the underground, trying to recall the picture of King Zachary. She wondered what was happening back home. It was vexing to be in the future and not be able to find out from some book of history. So much had been destroyed. She certainly had not found anything useful in the professor’s library, and no history book would cover the king’s day-to-day existence anyway. What was Zachary doing at this very moment? She’d observed their timelines were no longer concurrent—she’d seen sunlight aglow in the chamber he’d been standing in, but it was still the deep of night here. What could it mean?

When finally they climbed into the house, and she returned to her room, she thought she would look into the shard she kept concealed behind her headboard to see if she could call his image back. But once inside, she discovered, to her surprise, cool air curling into the room through the open window, and Cloudy the cat sitting on her bed. He watched her expectantly.

“What?” she murmured, and she softly closed the door behind her. No one else occupied her room—not even a ghost. None that she could see anyway. She set her taper on the bedside table and sat next to Cloudy. He rubbed into her hand and purred.

“How did you get in?” she whispered. It had happened once before and was a mystery that remained unsolved.

As she caressed him, her fingers trailed across a leather collar. She didn’t remember having seen one on him before. It was a plain collar, nothing fancy about it, but attached to it was a cylindrical case like those attached to the legs of messenger pigeons, but larger. He was no stray cat after all.

“Odd,” she said.

It got even odder when she opened the case and found a letter within addressed to “Karigan,” her name written in familiar and sure strokes.

In the present: Captain Mapstone

When Vasper the royal armorer tightened the side straps on the king’s breastplate and then stepped away, Laren noted two important things: The first was that Zachary had not yet recovered much of the weight he had lost since his wounding from the assassin’s arrow. His cheeks were more sharply defined making his expression more severe. He had trained away any remaining weakness and excess flesh with Arms Master Drent. She thought, perhaps, he worked too hard. Maybe he thought that by doing so he could erase the past. She did not know if it worked. What she did know is that it left him all sinew and muscle.