Jules lay awake in bed the morning after he came back from the island with his father, Anah, and Dr. Millington, staring across the room at the snake-adorned scabbard propped up against the wall by the door. Part of him still didn't want to believe everything that happened over the last few weeks was real. He blinked, and saw the sword was still there. "This can't be real," he whispered to himself.

It hadn't been difficult to overhear Troy's rant about the whole situation. Jules didn't entirely disagree with Troy. He wanted the threat of the magpies to be dealt with sooner rather than later. He also knew that a sword wasn't exactly the best option against birds, but it was what they were given, and he assumed that meant he was expected to use it. Why, he wasn't sure. There was definitely magic infused with the sword. He could feel it whenever he took the hilt. Would it be enough? It didn't feel like there were any guarantees at this point. The only thing he could do now was practice, hope, and have faith.

He got up, got dressed, and left the room when he smelled tea brewing. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he figured it would be better to spend time with his parents before they went to work at the university.

Moffitt was stirring the contents of a mug on the counter when Jules entered the kitchen. "Good morning. Kippers and eggs alright for breakfast?"

"Sure," Jules said. "Is anyone else here yet?"

"No. Shockingly. The fact that Troy's not here is actually concerning."

Vanora sighed. "The one morning I actually need to talk to him, and he's not here."

Anah's head poked out of Moffitt's bathrobe. "Have you tried looking in the garden? He might have stopped for an early breakfast."

"Yes, I did. He's not here."

"He was in a very foul mood yesterday," Moffitt said. "Might be best to just leave him be for now."

"Something might've happened, though," Jules replied, taking his tea to stir it.

"There's always that possibility. If he doesn't show within an hour, call the hotel."

"Okay." Jules looked down at his tea. "So, how am I supposed to practice with the sword, Dad?"

"I'm going to take it into Cambridge and have Evelina look at it. She might be able to shed some light on its properties."

"That's a good idea."

"For today, rest."

"Troy's not going to be happy."

"I think finding answers about the sword will satisfy him, to some degree. Hopefully." Moffitt passed the jar of sugar and milk carton to Jules. "If he's grumpy, leave him alone. Let Dietrich handle him."

"Dietrich needs a break after this," Jules said.

"Well, when he returns to Germany, he'll be going right back to work. Whether or not that'll be a break compared to dealing with us remains to be seen."

"This is a vacation for him," Vanora said. "He's not chasing after a toddler all day."

"He's dealing with Troy and that's about the same as chasing a toddler at times."

Vanora nodded. "That's a good point."

Jules kept looking down at his tea after adding milk to it. "Troy had a point with what he said yesterday."

"In a way, he did," Moffitt said. "That's why I'm taking the sword to Evelina, to see what we can learn."

The three were soon all seated at the table for breakfast. It was the first morning in over a week that it was only them, and it made for a very quiet few minutes. It didn't last long, as Moffitt and Vanora both had to go to work. Moffitt left Anah in the bedroom to keep her warm in his robe, and told Jules to keep an eye on her after coming back into the kitchen.

"I am not a frail and helpless creature, dear!" Anah snapped.

"No, but you do need to keep resting!" Moffitt called.

"I'll keep an eye on her, Dad," Jules said.

"Thank you." Moffitt sighed. "I'm not sure how long it'll be before everyone gets here, but I know I can trust you here alone." He squeezed Jules's shoulders. "Keep the windows closed and locked, and if magpies surround the house, light a fire in the hearth to keep them from getting in through the chimney. If you absolutely have to protect yourself, use my revolver. It's in my nightstand."

"Okay. Do you just want me to stay inside until the others arrive?"

"I would feel better if you did. Don't worry about the horses. I took care of them after I got up."

Jules didn't argue, as he felt afraid to go out with no one else around. He bid his parents goodbye and watched them leave from the kitchen window. On a normal day, he would be starting lessons with Anah, but instead, he was anxiously looking around for magpies. He went into his parents' bedroom, seeing a coiled lump under his father's robe. He would never be going through his parents' things under normal circumstances, but decided he would feel better with having his father's revolver nearby. He crouched by Moffitt's nightstand, a nervous feeling coming over him.

Jules was gentle while pulling out the tan cloth holster holding the nearly thirty-year-old Webley Mk. VI revolver. There were several boxes of ammunition with it. Jules took a stack of them, and found there was a different box on top. He was surprised when he saw what was in the box: several medals. "Whoa… Hey, Anah?"

"What is it, dear?" Anah asked from under the robe.

"Dad never mentioned he had medals."

"Why are you going through your father's things?"

"I'm not. I'm getting his revolver, and accidentally found these—" Jules paused when he opened the box to examine the medals. "He got a bloody Victoria Cross?! That's one of the highest awards in Britain!"

"Dear, put that away, please."

Anah's tone suggested there was a serious reason Moffitt never brought up his awards. Jules's face flushed warm with embarrassment. He closed the box and put it back in the nightstand, only leaving the revolver out. Then, he lifted the robe, looking Anah in the eye. "Alright, what's the deal with Dad and his medals?"

Anah was quiet for a moment. "The reasons for your father earning some of those, including the Victoria Cross, are not exactly things that he wants to remember. Do you not remember him telling you about how he was tortured?"

"I… remember." Jules felt even more embarrassed for just touching the box. "He mentioned when we went to see the ravens that he didn't want to be seen as a hero. I can't imagine getting these helped."

"They did not. I have noticed a change with your father ever since Dietrich helped him overcome his problems with guilt. Perhaps there will come a time when he will be more accepting of his awards, but for now, I would not bring them up. The magpies may become more aggressive now that we are in possession of the sword, and bringing up such memories for your father could have devastating consequences."

"And we don't want that." Jules was curious about the medals, the Victoria Cross in particular, but the last thing he wanted was for the magpies to invade his father's nightmares. He would keep it to himself, at least until the magpies were defeated.

Moffitt had shown Jules the Webley before. The revolver was a bit heavy, but comfortable to hold. The six-round cylinder was already loaded. The whole of the gun was in good condition for its age, though there was some denting around the muzzle from years of use. Jules stared at it, amazed to think how many battles the revolver had seen. It was definitely a piece of history, but he also knew it was from a time that held a conflicted place in his father's heart. On one hand, Moffitt had met his best friends, and Anah, but he had also been tortured, wounded, and seen horrible things no human being should.

Jules brought the revolver with him out to the kitchen, where he made himself another cup of tea and took out a container of biscuits. It was a nice enough day that the windows should be open, but they weren't, and Jules wasn't about to open them. He put a handful of chocolate raspberry crème-filled biscuits on a dish and set the dish aside for when the tea was ready. As no one was watching, he took an extra biscuit to snack on while waiting. He paced around the house while his tea steeped, and peered into his parents' bedroom to see Anah had crawled back under Moffitt's robe. It really is rotten seeing her so miserable, Jules thought.

When the tea was ready, he put everything in the parlor, then went into the bedroom. He was gentle when picking Anah up, and brought her out to the parlor. After sitting cross-legged on the couch, he grabbed a soft blanket—one his father typically used—and draped it over Anah, whom he had placed in his lap. She lay with her head hanging off Jules's left knee, saying and doing nothing when he took her head in his hand and began stroking her with his thumb. The only sound she made was a sigh of contentment.

He heard the front door open and close, followed by Dietrich's voice calling, "Hello? Anyone home?"

"Out here!" Jules called back. He looked up when Dietrich entered the parlor. "How come everyone's late?"

"We went out to breakfast in order to give you and your parents some alone-time. Troy, Antheia, Hitch, and Tully decided to spend a little while longer in town, and I decided to come here instead."

"Just because?"

"Mostly, but I also wanted to see how you are doing."

"That was nice of you to do. I'm… okay."

"Your parents are at work?"

"Yeah. They left about a half-hour ago."

"Ah, so I just missed them." Dietrich glanced down at the coffee table, and a look of concern came over his face. "Why is Moffitt's revolver—"

"I was told to use it in case the magpies attacked the house."

"Right. Makes sense." Dietrich then looked at Anah, a slight smile crossing his face. "I take it this is what a very spoiled snake looks like. All cozied up on someone's lap, getting what looks like a very satisfying head-massage."

"I think she's asleep." Jules looked at Anah's eyes, noting that they had gone dark. "Yeah, she's asleep. She's been looking so miserable. Not even sure what she'll be able to do when we go to the castle."

"I suppose it depends on when we go."

"We're all hoping it'll be soon. Troy was right with what he said yesterday about learning sword-fighting not being practical against birds. Dad brought the sword to the university to see if Mrs. Lehning can figure out what's so special about it. I hope she can figure it out. Right now… it feels pointless."

"Well, it is a sword. It is supposed to have a point."

It took Jules a moment to get the joke. "Ah. Yeah, funny. That was bloody awful, Dietrich."

"It was. I had no intention of it being some groundbreaking piece of comedy." Dietrich looked back at the doorway between the parlor and the kitchen. "Did you have breakfast? I know that—" he pointed to Jules's cup of tea and the dish of biscuits, "is all your father has in the morning, but I doubt it is a habit you need to copy."

"I had breakfast. Eggs and kippers," Jules replied. "Give me some credit, Dietrich. I'm not exactly like Dad. I mean, for one thing, I actually put a decent amount of sugar in my tea. There are plenty of teas where you can get away with putting in only one teaspoon of sugar, but English breakfast tea isn't one of them." He watched Dietrich go into the kitchen, but didn't follow, as he had a very comfy cobra in his lap.

Dietrich returned to the doorway a second later. "I must ask, is the way in which you make your tea the only point of contention with you and your father?"

"I wouldn't even call it that, because we both know it's not something serious," Jules said. "I don't think we've ever had a serious argument. There's nothing to argue about. I'm not doing stupid things, and he's not pushing me in a direction I don't want to go."

"The fact that you are no longer in a miserable schooling situation may also play a hand in that. You are not being stifled academically, or surrounded by bad influences."

"Well, it's hard for people to be bad influences when they don't even like you."

"In a way, that can still make them bad influences. Loneliness can push people to do things they never would have done otherwise, just so they can have human contact. It breeds jealousy and desperation. It can make you lower your standards, put you in conflict with your morals, and make you vulnerable to manipulation."

"It sounds like you're speaking from experience."

"Partly, but this also comes from observation of others. That happened to Hitch when he was attending Wake Forest." Dietrich paused, then disappeared into the kitchen when the kettle started whistling. He returned a few minutes later with a cup of chamomile tea.

"Dad mentioned Hitch was a different person back during the war," Jules said.

"I would not necessarily say that. He had his points, but he also had some traits that your father, Troy, Tully, and Anah did not particularly care for, and that came from college being the first time he was away from home for a long period of time. No friends, no connections. He fell in with a group of people who were a very bad influence. Hitch is lucky to have come out of that stage of life without serious long-term consequences, but it is not exactly something he remembers fondly."

"What exactly happened?"

"Ask again when you are a little older. All I will say is that back then, he never would have shown the same amount of commitment to a female companion that you do with Antheia."

"Really? That's… hard to believe, considering how much he loves Molly."

Dietrich nodded. "I agree. It is hard to believe, but it was true at one point." He took a sip of his tea. "Anyway, there are times where loneliness is unavoidable. Like any undesirable situation, it takes strength to pull through and not drive yourself insane in the process."

Jules looked down at Anah. "I'm surprised Anah was able to make it two thousand years without going cuckoo."

"Oh, going cuckoo is debatable with her sometimes, especially if you ask Troy, but, yes, it is a miracle that she stayed sane. Mostly. She was very clingy with your father for a while after she left the temple. I can remember whenever I captured the Rats, Anah would be very tightly coiled around your father's shoulders. She was always hooded and hissing. I did not notice a change with her until she and your father were sitting with me in the hospital after I tried killing myself. She was more relaxed, and now it is a rare occurrence to see her in a defensive posture."

Jules kept looking down at the snake in his lap. "I guess just like Hitch, Anah's changed a bit, too."

"She has," Dietrich said. "She was very happy when my prophecy was fulfilled, because then she had nothing to hide anymore. She could just enjoy her life with us."

"Yeah." Jules was tempted to give Anah a good scratch under her lower jaw, but didn't want to wake her.

Dietrich smirked at Anah. "Aunt Miriam had a white Turkish Angora cat notorious for keeping people seated by laying on their laps, and cats are very particular. To have one's lap chosen by a cat feels like the highest of honors."

"Dad said if we ever did get another animal, it'd be a cat. He's happy with what we've got now, and Anah fills the role of 'lap cat.' Well… 'lap snake.'"

"I never would have taken snakes to be lap animals." Dietrich glanced down at his tea, then turned toward the window. "I was going to ask if you wanted to go horseback riding, but I would hate to pull Anah from you."

"I mean, I'll have to pull her off anyway just to go use the loo. Not now, but eventually. Plus, Dad told me I could go riding with Antheia, as long as he or someone else is with us."

"You have been waiting quite a while to take a ride with Antheia. I can sense it."

Jules nodded.

"Whenever Troy and the others get here, I will accompany you."

"Thanks. That would mean a lot to me."

Moffitt was greatly disappointed when he learned Evelina was in a conference, and would be unavailable to talk until two in the afternoon. He left the silver sword hidden back in his office before going to the zoology department during his break. Of course, the snakes responded excitedly to him entering the laboratory. Most of them anyway. He noticed Cinnamon, the little Indian cobra, laying near the door of her tank, her only acknowledgement of him being movement of her eyes.

"What's the matter?" Moffitt asked.

"Can I see my eggs?" the snake replied.

"I'm sure Millington checked on your eggs this morning."

"I want to see them myself. Please."

"Alright." Moffitt unlocked the tank, letting Cinnamon climb up his arm. He felt her nuzzle his chin as she got comfortable. In the incubation room, Moffitt could see Millington sitting with a typewriter in the office next door. He pulled the container holding Cinnamon's eggs from a shelf, and set them on a table to open it and look inside. All twenty-seven eggs were still there, and still looking healthy. He glanced at Cinnamon in the corner of his eye. "They're doing just fine, see?"

Cinnamon crawled down Moffitt's arm to inspect the eggs. They were spaced out evenly in the humid substrate instead of bunched together as when they were laid. "You said three months, right?"

"Three months until they hatch. That's correct. You'll get to watch, I promise." Moffitt returned the eggs to the shelf they were originally on, and went over to the office door, knocking a few times before Millington said he could come in.

Millington looked up from his typewriter when the door opened. "Good afternoon, Moffitt. What brings you by?"

"Boredom, I suppose," Moffitt said.

"Isn't this your lunch break?"

"Yes."

Things went quiet aside from a few more clicks from Millington's typewriter. The older doctor then turned to face Moffitt. "Why do I have the feeling this has something to do with your son's prophecy?"

"In a way, yes. I was going to talk with Evelina Lehning about the silver sword, to see if there's anything truly special to it. Troy brought up a good point yesterday—a sword is a horribly inefficient weapon against birds. Getting enough silver for shotgun pellets would be difficult. There must be something more to this. Unfortunately, Evelina's in a conference and won't be available for another two hours." Moffitt sighed before sitting in a chair by the door. "I can't focus on anything else."

"Well, you're not exactly asking the right person to help you decode something magical."

"On the contrary, you might be able to provide a unique insight I never would've thought of."

"That's true."

Moffitt reached up to pet Cinnamon as she explored his head and shoulders. "It's strange, really, Jules didn't inherit any of my abilities, but the sword is very much connected to snakes."

"The prophecy does say, 'fourteen for the unwitting son,' right?"

"It does. 'Fifteen for the final toll, sixteen for the serpent's run.'"

"I can't begin to guess what 'final toll' means, but 'serpent's run' may be a reference to the sword, as in, the sword running through the forbidden fourteenth magpie."

"That makes sense. I did consider that, but it seems… so obvious."

"Not everything in life or magic has to be overly complicated."

"No, it doesn't. Dietrich's prophecy was more about the abyss—his depression—than what actually happened six years ago."

"It set things up for that to happen. Jules's prophecy seems a bit more… direct, so to say. Again—" Millington shrugged, "I am not the right person to help you understand this. I work with snakes, not magic. Maybe talk to me after you've spoken with Evelina. Having more information—especially from someone far more knowledgeable—might help."

He's got a good point, Moffitt thought. "Alright. I'll come back either later today, or tomorrow."

"Good luck."

Moffitt left the room to put Cinnamon back in her tank. She was in a much better mood now that she had seen her eggs, so she went to her preferred spot under a large pink flower made of stained glass that Hitch's daughter, Carolyn, had painted specifically for Cinnamon. After closing the tank, Moffitt noticed gray movement in the corner of his eye, and turned to see Mahlah pressed up against the glass of his tank to stare at Moffitt, who sighed heavily. "Oh, alright."

While pulling the mamba out of his tank, Moffitt noticed Zeresh perched on her branch, giving Mahlah a mildly disappointed expression. "Are we sure you are actually a mamba and not a big, dumb dog in a snake's body?" she asked.

"You hush," Moffitt said. "I wish dogs acted more like Mahlah. No licking, no foul odor, no mountains of fur clinging to my clothes, no taking him outside in the bitter cold—"

Zeresh sighed. "Forget I said anything." She turned to face the back of her tank.

Mahlah had wrapped himself around Moffitt's left arm and neck. The presence of the snake around his left arm specifically made Moffitt's mind return to Dietrich and Hitch's dreams about the German being bitten. He wanted to dismiss the dreams as an elaborate trick by the magpies. They had to be. Moffitt looked Mahlah in the eye while pacing around the room. "Do you want something in particular, or did you just want attention?"

"I wanted to ask if you had already gone to the magpies' lair," Mahlah replied.

"No. We only just got back from the island."

"The lair… it is a great stone structure, right?"

"A castle, yes."

"Last night, I dreamt about being at this castle, and a thin man was holding me like you and Millington do when you need me to put venom in a glass, but he was quite rough. I struggled until I woke up."

"I had a similar dream last night. A few others have had dreams like it, and we suspect it's a trick by the magpies."

"I hope it is a trick. I could never bring myself to hurt someone like that, especially someone close to you. You gave me a chance at a better life."

"Accidents do happen. Like I said, this might be a trick. Something's not adding up." Moffitt paced for a few more laps around the room before putting the mamba back in his tank. "Hopefully, we'll be headed to the castle soon, and this'll all be over."

He returned to his office to await a phone call from Evelina. When she called and told him to come to the Kestle Institute, Moffitt took the sword and headed over without delay. He was glad that in both his department and Evelina's, walking around with a sword wasn't unusual or a cause for alarm. He was also tempted to stop into Vanora's office when he walked by, but when looking through the glass, he saw she was on the phone, so all he did was tap the glass and wave. She waved back, and he continued on his way.

Before he could head up a set of stairs to Evelina's office, Moffitt heard a door open and close, followed by Vanora's voice saying, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Moffitt looked over his shoulder. "I beg your pardon?"

"No kiss?" Vanora smiled at him.

"You were on the phone. I didn't want to bother you."

"Well, I'm not on the phone anymore." She opened her arms. "Come here."

"Alright. I can't say 'no' to you." Moffitt slung the sword's scabbard over his shoulder before giving his wife a hug. "You seem to be in a much better mood, darling," he said, kissing her cheek.

"Seeing you makes me happy."

"Aw. Seeing you makes me happy, too."

"And… you do look handsome with the sword on."

"Am I the dashing, sword-wielding explorer come to whisk you away for a life of adventure?"

"You whisked me away a long time ago, Jack, and I wouldn't have it any other way." Vanora stood on her toes to kiss her husband. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too." Moffitt was reluctant to let go, but slowly released Vanora and let his arms hang at his side. "Alright, well… I'm off to see Evelina about the sword. I'll be back in a couple of hours to pick you up. Have you heard anything from Jules?"

"He called about an hour ago. Everyone's at the house and they're alright. Apparently, Troy decided to give us the morning to ourselves, so he took everyone out for breakfast."

"Did you mention that you wanted to talk to Troy?"

"No. I can talk to him later, and I should let you get going."

Moffitt noticed a downward shift in Vanora's mood. He made an effort to cheer her up. "This'll be over soon." He realized he had said that several times over the last few weeks. They were getting closer to Jules fulfilling his prophecy, but it seemed that couldn't come fast enough.

They parted ways, and Moffitt kept looking back at Vanora's office as he headed toward the stairwell. When he could no longer see it, he tried to return his focus to the task at hand, and straightened his posture when he came to Evelina's door.

Evelina let him in with a sigh, saying, "I called you, saying you could come down, so you don't need to stand there waiting for me. You are allowed to just walk in, Jack."

"It's polite," Moffitt replied. As soon as the door opened, the smell of freshly brewed tea wafted from the room.

"Yes, yes, I know. Please, come in, and have a seat. I'm so sorry about making you wait." Evelina pulled out a chair for Moffitt. "Have you had anything for lunch?"

"I brought a little something from home, but that was a few hours ago. Why?"

"One of the professors had a birthday today and gave me a few extra slices of cheesecake. Would you like one?"

"If you're offering."

"Give me one second, then." Evelina disappeared into the kitchenette and returned a minute later with a small slice of plain cheesecake covered in canned cherries.

Moffitt set the sword on the desk before taking the dish and a fork. "Thank you kindly."

"You're most welcome. It's the least I could do for making you wait on something so important."

"Oh, that's alright. Your work is important."

"Discussing budgets is nowhere near as important as your son's prophecy. If it were only my schedule to work with, I would've put that conference off, but, no, I had to work with five different schedules and came up with only today to have said conference."

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that. Makes me glad I'm not very ambitious and didn't take my father's job when he retired. He hated all the mandatory conferences. Granted, I do have some to attend, but not nearly as many."

"As much as I think you'd be a wonderful professor, I understand why you prefer staying an archivist."

"I'd be a terrible professor. I already have a hard enough time giving guest lectures, and then there's grading papers and exams. I wouldn't have any time to do things at home, and right now… well, when all this is over, spending time with Vanora, Jules, and Anah will be my priority."

"I certainly don't blame you for that." Evelina set her tea aside to pick up the scabbard. "Speaking of which, let's take a look at this." She was careful while taking the sword out. "Well, right away, I can tell you that this sword does have one or several enchantments on it."

"Oh?"

"It's over eight hundred years old, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Normally, a sword—or anything—that old would have signs of aging or damage. This looks like it's fresh from a forge. Enchantments can preserve an item almost indefinitely."

"Is there a way to tell what kind of enchantments are on it?"

"There are a few, but because of the prophecy still being in play, I don't want to take the risk of any enchantments being stripped from the sword by accident. Whatever enchantments they are, they had a purpose, and if something were to happen, we may not be able to replicate them."

"Blast," Moffitt hissed. "So, we won't find out until Jules actually uses the bloody thing at the castle."

"I'm afraid so." Evelina set the sword down, and turned around to take something propped against the bookshelf behind her. "I would focus on making a battle plan for the castle. Riverty told me to give this to you—he had to rush to London this morning."

"Is everything alright?"

"Magpies attacked the ravens at the Tower of London. The ravens are alright, but Riverty mentioned that such a bold move means that the magpies are going to start ramping up attacks across Britain. He was called to discuss the situation with the League of Sorcerers and members of Parliament."

Moffitt sighed. "I was fine with the magpies keeping their attacks to us. We can't let them go after innocent people."

"The only way to stop them is to go to the castle. You know where it is, right?"

"Twenty miles north of Edinburgh, yes."

"Alright. " Evelina handed Moffitt a white cardboard tube with plastic covers on both ends. "This contains layouts of the castle's floors, based on old drawings we've found over the years. I would suggest you and your team look these over and start forming a plan."

"It wouldn't be our first time storming a castle—it will be our first time storming a castle with a boy far too young to be fighting, a magic sword, spitting cobras, a black mamba, and Dietrich on our side."

"Millington is alright with you bringing his snakes into a dangerous situation like that?"

"He's coming with us, actually. Zeresh, Nekoda, and Mahlah all helped fight magpies before, and the gargoyle. I think they'll be able to handle themselves, and we'll need all the assistance we can get."

"It certainly sounds like it, and I wish you and everyone else involved the best of luck."