Jules was glad to see Antheia and the others arrive alright about an hour after Dietrich came. The quietness and thoughtful conversations were nice, but it would have been nicer if he didn't have to worry about people being attacked by angry magpies. The other nice thing was that Jules could hand Anah off to Troy, saying, "I know you two enjoy each other's company."

"Where'd you get that idea, kid? I'm not spending the whole day with her," Troy muttered.

Dietrich cupped his hands around his mouth, whispering rather loudly, "Liar!"

"No. I'm not being her living hot water bottle. The only person who can use me as a hot water bottle is my wife."

"I am not sure I have ever heard someone compare anyone or themselves to a hot water bottle before."

Tully called from the drawing room, "Does anything outta Sarge's mouth surprise you, Dietrich?"

"No, not really."

Anah was searching for a comfortable position on Troy, flicking out the tines of her tongue to take in his scent. "You are more of a 'hot coffee bottle' at the moment, dear."

"I had one cup at the café," Troy said.

"Yeah, a big one," Hitch said.

"I can tell which café you went to as well," Anah added. "It is the one that Moffitt does not like as they have a very poor selection of cookies for dunking in tea."

Jules grimaced. "Ugh, I think I know the one you're talking about. The one with the extra-bland biscuits that taste and look like sand packed together."

"Yes, it's wonderful that you can smell that, Anah, could you stop moving?" Troy asked.

Anah paused to look him in the eye, then continued crawling around him.

"Jules, take her back," Troy growled between his teeth.

"Can't. I'm going riding with Antheia and Dietrich," Jules said with a smile.

"Fine, but you're taking your dad's snake back when you're done. Be careful out there. Dietrich, keep an eye on them."

"They will be alright, Troy," Dietrich said. "Try not to burn the kitchen down while we are gone." He took his Ithaca 37 shotgun from the stack of gun cases in the drawing room and checked to make sure it was loaded and ready before slinging it over his shoulder.

"Where's the sword?" Antheia asked.

"Dad brought it to the university to see if anyone can figure out what's so special about it," Jules said. He held his hand out to Antheia once they were outside. "I've waited a long time to do this with you. It'll be fun."

"It'd be more fun if we didn't have to worry about the magpies."

"I know, but we've got Dietrich with us. We'll be alright."

Antheia squeezed Jules's hand. "If Dietrich's going to be riding Icepatch, who will I ride?"

Dietrich cleared his throat. "May I make a suggestion?"

"Sure."

"Jules, do you have experience with Frostcloud?"

"Yeah," Jules said. "Dad let me train with her before I got Nightrunner."

"Is she good with unfamiliar riders?"

"Eh, not really."

"How is Nightrunner with unfamiliar riders?"

"Only slightly better than Frostcloud. He lets Dad ride him, but he performs better with me."

"Switch horses. Let Antheia ride Nightrunner."

"Okay." Jules turned to Antheia. "How does that sound?"

"I can't ride Nightrunner. He's yours," Antheia said.

"And I'm letting you borrow him. You won't hurt him. Just don't do with him what you wouldn't do with any other horse."

Antheia nodded, but she still looked unsure. "You've put so much work into Nightrunner. I don't want to ruin anything."

"It'll be alright. If you weren't already good with horses, I'd never let you on him."

Jules liked that he didn't have to explain anything to Antheia in the stable. They could work and tack up the horses in silence. Frostcloud was quite eager to go, while Icepatch and Nightrunner were far more patient. Jules noted how nervous Antheia was, while Nightrunner didn't seem to mind, and was in fact very confused at the girl's behavior. The horse looked at Jules, then at Antheia, as if to ask why all the change. Jules could only respond with a shrug, and said, "Antheia, you don't have to be so cautious. Nightrunner's not going to break apart if you look at him wrong."

"Sorry," Antheia said.

"You're not going to mess anything up. Trust me, after you ride him for a few minutes, you're not going to want to get off."

That gave Antheia a little more confidence, but Jules still got the impression that she was afraid. He walked over to her as she was putting the last of Nightrunner's tack on, and whispered, "There're very few people I'd trust working with Nightrunner. You're one of those people."

Antheia was quiet. Jules was patient, giving her time to formulate a response, verbal or nonverbal. She was staring off into space while playing with part of the horse's reins for a bit, then let them go in order to give Jules a hug. "Thanks," she said quietly.

"You're welcome. You okay?"

"Yeah."

Jules wanted to talk about something—anything—other than the magpies, but if that was bothering Antheia, then he would listen. "Worried about… other things?"

She nodded.

Jules had heard "We'll get through this" so many times at this point. It almost felt meaningless, like it was something to default to when someone couldn't come up with something better to say. With the number of unknowns cropping up left and right, how could anyone come with something to say? No one had any answers. There were guesses and hopes. Not much else. Everything was "wait and see."

In school, Jules had been taught that being quiet was being rude. At home, his parents, Anah, and Dietrich taught him that silence didn't always mean the absence of communication, but rather a different form of communication. There was a time to talk and a time to be quiet. It wasn't something he would grasp when he was little, but now that he was older, he understood it a little more. Whenever he visited Dietrich, there were often long stretches of silence, especially when they were out roaming the German countryside together. Their talks together were always fun, as it seemed Jules would learn something new each time, but their time in silence didn't feel wasted. He couldn't quite explain why, but there was something calming about it. There was no pressure to say or do anything.

Instead of saying the same thing he had been hearing for the last few weeks, the thing which was steadily losing meaning, Jules simply hugged Antheia back. He said nothing, and let her take comfort in his embrace, while he took comfort in hers. He looked up once to see Dietrich was focused on looking over and tacking up Icepatch. Dietrich looked in Jules's direction, but said nothing. His expression seemed to say, "Take as long as you need."

It was tempting to say this wouldn't be the last hug, but Jules continued saying nothing. He tried to stop thinking so hard, and kept his attention on Antheia. They did eventually pull apart, albeit slowly, and Jules broke the silence. "You, uh… You ready?"

"If you are," Antheia replied. "Thanks… for that. It was… It was nice."

"Thanks—I-I mean, y-you're welcome. I…" Jules stopped, blushing and rubbing the back of his head.

Antheia didn't exactly help that by kissing his cheek. "You're cute when you blush like that."

"Well, you're cute… all the time." Jules glanced at Dietrich, who was grinning a little. "What're you smiling at?" Jules asked with a nervous laugh.

"Oh, nothing. Just enjoying watching such young love blossom," Dietrich replied. "Are you ready to head out?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. You two go on ahead. I will be right behind you. Do not go so far ahead that I cannot see you, understand?"

"Understood."

"Thank you." Dietrich climbed into Icepatch's saddle, and kept the older mare in place until Jules, Antheia, and their horses had left the stable. For the moment, the weather was decent, but Jules had seen in the newspaper that it was supposed to rain later that day.

When they left Moffitt's property, Frostcloud seemed eager to trot, so Jules let her for a bit. He noticed Antheia and Nightrunner catching up in the corner of his eye. Jules smiled at both of them. "Well? What do you think of him?"

"It feels like he knows what I'm thinking," Antheia said.

"I like to think he does. Mind your body language and your mood—he'll react pretty quickly to both." Jules found he had to respond quickly to Frostcloud as well. "Hey! We're not cantering. Not yet. Sorry."

The young mare lifted her head to snort at him.

"I know, I'm not Dad, and you're not dumping me off like you do with him." Jules looked over his shoulder at Dietrich, who was taking in the scenery while Icepatch was at a very leisurely walking pace. "Follow Icepatch's example. She is the boss of you and Nightrunner after all."

Dietrich spoke up behind them. "Jules, I would be very surprised if you have not heard the phrase, 'ask a mare, tell a gelding.'"

"Oh, I've heard it. I'm not sure of how true it is. I remember Snowstripe hated breaks in routine and was far more firm with Dad than Dad ever was with him, but Icepatch is a lot more easygoing."

"Horses in general prefer routine. Some more than others."

"And then there are all of my dad's horses," Antheia said. "I'm not sure how he does it, but he winds up with all the weird and quirky ones, mare or gelding."

"Well, your dad is pretty quirky himself. They're probably drawn to him," Jules replied.

"Troy has been through a lot in his life," Dietrich said. "He understands the feeling of being unwanted and being seen as a problem. Typically, the quirkier the horse, the less most people will want them, because they seem difficult to train. Troy understands them better than the average trainer ever will, and I believe that he and the horse can sense that in each other."

"You didn't get much more quirky than Snowstripe," Jules sighed sadly.

"I am in full agreement with that, but what a wonderful horse he was. He certainly earned the awards bestowed on him by the British military after the war."

The mention of awards made Jules's mind turn to the medals he found in his father's nightstand. He had heard from his father that Dietrich was once very hesitant to accept any awards, including a replacement for his Iron Cross, but he did accept it after the prophecy's fulfillment six years ago. Jules also kept in mind what Anah told him about not bringing the medals up with his father. There was no harm in mentioning them to Dietrich, was there? Perhaps he could shed some light on how to help his father look at them in a different way.

For now, Jules would enjoy his ride with Antheia. It was something he had wanted for the last few weeks, as it had been rudely taken by the magpies when he was staying on Troy's ranch. Having this opportunity was better than having no opportunity, and he would cherish every second.

Vanora's office was significantly warmer than it usually was that time of year, as she refused to open the windows, even just a crack. She didn't want to know how much space was needed for magpies to enter the building. She knew other people had windows open, but she didn't want to inconvenience them.

She had been alone that day, and she missed having Dietrich for company. He expressed interest in her work and everything that the Kestle Institute was doing in terms of teaching magic and preserving magical artifacts, and for her, it was interesting to learn about what life was like in Germany. Despite his relaxed demeanor, Dietrich was quite alert, turning to face the direction of an unknown sound with one hand on the bag containing his shotgun. Vanora felt safer with him around. With Moffitt at the university as well that day, Vanora decided not to have Dietrich accompany her, as she knew Moffitt would come quickly—with plenty of serpentine backup—if she needed him. That didn't make her day less lonely.

Seeing Moffitt before he visited Evelina to discuss the sword, regardless of how brief it had been, was the highlight of her day. Vanora wondered if that was because she missed him over the last two days when he was out searching for the island. Missed him, and worried about him. She was tired of worrying. She never took Moffitt or Jules or Anah for granted in the first place, but now she put more effort into showing her love for them. Now, Vanora was looking forward to seeing Moffitt waiting for her in the lobby of the Kestle Institute.

She made sure everything was locked before leaving the room. The last thing to check was the door itself. She put the keys in her pocket, and glanced at the window at the end of the hall. Sure enough, it was wide open. All the windows down the length of the hallway were open to some degree. Without hesitation, she headed to the stairs, trying not to think about magpies breaking in by the hundreds.

She had to go down one of the halls running parallel to the library to get to another staircase leading down to the lobby. The recently-installed windows were open, and there were students inside. Her thoughts and fears began to race until it all culminated in the replaying of the sound of the windows shattering when the gargoyle broke into the library. She could still hear each individual shard hitting the tile floor, the creaking of the window frames as the big, stone-gray creature pushed what remained aside to get into the room, the breeze rushing into the library when it was quiet, and the rustling of the gargoyle's bat-like wings.

Vanora broke into a run, constantly looking over her shoulder. It's not real. It's not real, she kept trying to tell herself. Upon reaching the ground floor, it didn't take long to find her husband, as he was the only person there apart from a pair of students and a professor leaving.

Moffitt smiled when he saw her, but that smile quickly faded when he saw her expression. "Are you alright, darling?"

"No. I want to get out of here," Vanora said.

"What's wrong?"

"I heard… I-I heard th-the windows breaking in the library. They didn't actually break, but I heard—"

"Okay, okay, let's go. Take a deep breath, darling. Relax." Moffitt walked with his arm around Vanora as they left the building and headed to the parking lot. He opened the passenger side door of the Land Rover, and closed it once Vanora was inside. He then got in the driver's seat, and reached over to squeeze his wife's hand. "Was that all that happened?"

Vanora nodded. Tears were choking her. "It was like it was actually happening again."

"Horrible, isn't it?"

She nodded again, unsure of what to say.

"Difficult to describe?"

"Yes."

"Ready to go home, or do you feel like you need a moment?"

"Let's go home, please."

"Alright." Moffitt put the key in the ignition, and began navigating the parking lot to leave the university compound. "Dietrich mentioned that you've been having a hard time processing what happened in the library. I feel a bit guilty for not setting aside the time to help you." He sighed, looking down at his lap when they came to the road leading out of the parking lot, and into the rest of Cambridge. Before pulling out into the next road, he turned to Vanora. "I'm so… so sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Vanora said. "You've been busy trying to solve what caused the gargoyle attack in the first place."

"Still, I should've asked or done something. I know what it's like, being tormented by horrible memories. I should've been trying to help since the day it happened."

"Well, don't forget that the day that happened was also the day that Anah was attacked by that eagle and Jules ran away. A lot happened. I don't blame you for not doing anything sooner. I didn't really think I should be a priority anyway."

Moffitt gave her a concerned look. "Why the bloody hell would you think that?"

Vanora wasn't sure what to say. She remained quiet as they drove through Cambridge. The sky had been darkening since noon, and only now were raindrops beginning to fall. She could see Moffitt looking at her in the corner of her right eye.

"Darling, why? You're always going to be a top priority for me. Even with everything else going on. And don't try to tell me it's because the prophecy isn't about you. At the end of the day, you're still my wife, and I love you. I made a promise to love you, to protect you, to be by your side no matter what life throws at us. No matter what. Including something like Jules's prophecy. Please, if something is bothering you, tell me." When they turned onto the road leading home, Moffitt sighed again before saying, "I was about to ask, 'why is everyone so bloody afraid of telling me when something's wrong.' I know why. It's because for the longest time, I would assume that everything is my blasted fault."

"It's hard to believe it was only a few days ago that we managed to break that habit," Vanora said. "It'll take some getting used to."

"To be honest, I did wonder if it was because of something I did that made you feel like you couldn't say anything to me. It partly is." Moffitt turned the Land Rover into the driveway, and parked in the garage. "We've been together for eighteen years, and… now I'm wondering how many problems did you have that you couldn't discuss with me because you were afraid of me blaming myself for it."

"Not many."

"Honest?"

"Honest, and none of it were things I would hold a grudge over."

"Okay. That… That's a relief." Moffitt turned the vehicle off. "We can sit here and talk if you'd like."

"It can wait until bedtime. I imagine you want your tea."

"I do love my tea, but I love you more."

"I'd like to think about how I want to express my thoughts."

"Alright. We'll save it for bedtime." Moffitt stepped out of the Land Rover, and went around to the passenger side to help Vanora. Once she was out, he said, "Darling?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

They left the garage and headed up the walkway to the house, but paused to look into the backyard when they spotted movement. Troy was holding several branches with Anah on his shoulders.

"I see a Troy," Vanora said.

"And I see an Anah," Moffitt added.

"There's a Troy and an Anah in the garden."

"Indeed there are."

"That probably means nothing good. I can't tell what shrubbery those branches are from here."

Moffitt gave a heavy sigh. "Bloody hell. You know, we had a nice, quiet morning, and I'm not sure I want to know what Troy and Anah are doing."

They both headed up to the fence, and leaned against it in order to get a better look at Troy and Anah.

"Hello, dears!" Anah called.

"Hello, Anah," Moffitt said. "What are you doing?"

"I have convinced Troy to prune my holly bush."

Moffitt gave Vanora a confused expression, jaw dropped, then looked back at Anah. "Why? Out of all of us, you especially would know that Troy is sorely incapable of taking care of a garden. He would manage to kill the toughest weed. Not only that, you have Dietrich, Hitch, Tully, Jules, and Antheia to choose from, but you choose Troy."

Anah looked hesitant to answer. "Well… he was there."

"You're sure it's not because you enjoy spending time with each other?" Vanora asked.

"That is utter nonsense!"

Moffitt snorted. "Right."

"She's right. It's nonsense," Troy muttered.

"Yes, we already had Jules claiming we like each other's presence when he came back from riding with Antheia and Dietrich," Anah added. "All Troy was doing was keeping me warm. It merely looked like snuggling because we were on the couch with a blanket."

"Anah," Moffitt sighed. "No one is buying this anymore. You two are allowed to admit you're friends."

"Maybe I do not want to."

"Do I need to count all the times you've gone and visited Troy by yourself?"

"No."

"Or how about the fact that he's stood up for you?"

"Or how about the fact that you were thoughtful enough to dig through my grandparents' recipe books to make the wedding cake for me and Shauna?" Troy added.

"I also got you and Shauna to confess that you liked each other," Anah said.

"Yeah. You forged our signatures and set us up on a couple of dates, but now we've been married for seventeen years and don't regret it."

"Let's also not forget that you, Troy, volunteered to stay behind and take care of Anah when we went looking for Jules," Moffitt said. "I do also recall you saying that you 'don't have the energy you used to,' so now you must choose between admitting you're getting old, or admitting you care about Anah."

"Ooh, extra-sensitive sore spots," Anah said, grinning.

"You shut up," Troy grumbled, dropping the bundle of pruned holly branches on a pile by the fence.

"If you're quite finished arguing with Anah," Vanora said, "I do have to talk to you about something, Troy."

"Me? Why?"

"I'd like to make a shield for Jules, and I've been told Shauna does a bit of woodworking."

"Actually, if we're going to have Shauna come over anyway, perhaps we should discuss the battle plan for the castle first," Moffitt said. "That way she can bring over any, ah, tools we will need."

"If by 'tools' you mean 'guns,' I'd say that's a good idea," Troy replied. "Did you find out the purpose of the sword?"

"Not… exactly. Evelina did tell me there are definitely enchantments on it, but the methods in which enchantments are tested run the risk of weakening or stripping the enchantments altogether, and we might not be able to fix it."

Troy cursed. "Great. Now what?"

"We find out at the castle, unfortunately. At the very least, this means we can start planning something. Evelina actually suggested it, because the ravens at the Tower of London were attacked this morning by magpies. We're running out of time, and it won't be long before innocent people are put at risk." Moffitt held up the white tube in his hand. "Evelina gave me a few maps and layouts to look over."

"Alright, what're we waiting for? Let's make a battle plan."

"Why don't we make dinner first?" Vanora said. "Then we can discuss a plan."

"I'm not going to have an appetite till I know what we're doing."

Moffitt bit his tongue. "Nope. I'm not making that joke."

"What, love?" Vanora asked.

"We are in the garden. We have wild dandelions—"

Troy rolled his eyes. "This is like what Dietrich did after Shauna told him I once tasted unsweetened baking chocolate. He wouldn't let it go."

Vanora made a face. "Why did you—"

"I got curious. That's all. Can we not talk about this ever again?"

"Too late, dear," Anah said. "We will mention it forever and ever."

"I'm not going to be around forever and ever."

Anah gasped. "Dear, why would you say that?!" She slapped Troy with her tail. "Shame on you!"

"Alright, you did deserve that, Troy," Moffitt said. "You know better than to say things like that in front of Anah—okay, Anah, stop hitting him. Come here. You shouldn't be straining your back half anyway." He gently pulled the cobra from Troy's shoulders. "I'm going to take a shower, have my tea, and then we can discuss a battle plan."

"No, you need to have dinner first," Anah said. "And Troy did not have lunch."

"Yes, I did," Troy muttered.

"You had a bowl of dry bran flakes."

Moffitt gave Troy a look of disgust. "Dry bran flakes? What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"Jack, you've known him for how many years now?" Vanora asked. "You're acting like this is a new phenomenon."

"I know it's not a new phenomenon, but that doesn't make it any less ridiculous." Moffitt turned to go in the house, leaving Vanora and Troy by the fence.

"I don't care what he says, bran flakes are good without milk," Troy said. "Nobody even likes them with milk unless they have raisins. Besides, why should Moffitt complain when he drinks boiled leaf water with every meal? Surely that has to be more bland than dry bran flakes."

Vanora wasn't in the least interested in continuing a conversation about the merits of dry bran flakes. "Can Shauna help with making a shield?"

"Yeah, she can," Troy said. "I think it's a good idea, actually. Jules would be able to hit more birds at once with it. Keep other birds off him while he's swinging at one."

"Any ideas on how to actually train him with the sword?"

"I could go shoot some magpies and use the carcasses as training dummies."

"As therapeutic as that might be for you, I think that's a bit disgusting."

"It's what the little bastards deserve anyway."

"I'm talking in terms of cleanliness. I don't want rotting bird carcasses all over my yard."

Troy sighed. "Fine. I suggest talking to Tully. Maybe he knows someone back in Kentucky who can send over the same training toys they use for gundogs. That's the closest thing I can think of."

"Alright." Vanora reached over to squeeze Troy's shoulder. "You'll get your chance to shoot as many magpies as you want soon."

"Yeah. Looking forward to it."

Vanora watched Troy head back to the house. She couldn't really blame him for how he felt toward the magpies, but part of her wondered if he was taking his frustration a little too far. Dietrich had mentioned that Troy once said he wanted to render magpies extinct. He said it out of anger, and Vanora highly doubted he meant it. She turned and headed to the house as well, hearing the voices of the others as she entered. The bathroom door was closed and Vanora could hear the shower running. Anah was already getting Moffitt's tea ready, so Vanora went into the bedroom to set her purse down and get her own nightclothes ready. Her mind turned to her conversation with Troy, and she sat on the bed to think.

Not long after the shower turned off, Moffitt came into the bedroom. His hair was still damp, and he carried the strong smell of his soap. He smiled when he saw his wife. "Darling." His smile faded. "Everything alright?"

Vanora nodded. "I talked to Troy about how Jules can train with the sword. I'm sure he meant this as a joke, but he said he could go shoot some magpies and use their bodies as training dummies."

Moffitt frowned. "That's a bit morbid, don't you think?"

"A little too morbid. I told him that was disgusting because I don't want a bunch of rotting bird carcasses in the yard, but… I was also thinking in terms of morality. I don't blame him for being angry, but that coupled with what Dietrich told me about Troy saying that he wanted to make magpies extinct…" Vanora shook her head. "It has me a bit worried about him."

Moffitt sighed, sinking down next to his wife on the bed. "I know exactly where Troy is coming from. A little too well, actually. I think the big difference between what happened to me after I found out about Michael's death and what's going on with Troy is that with the news of Michael's death, my response was almost instant. Troy's anger and frustration has been building slowly over the last few weeks. Another difference is that he's watching the rest of us suffer. He feels powerless, and can't tackle this the way he tackled our missions in the war. When this is over, though, I don't think he's going to go on some kind of revenge quest. It's not in his nature."

"That's not in your nature, either, but Anah had to stop you from infesting that base with snakes."

"Well, we could always talk to Troy about this, or have Dietrich talk to him. He's good at organizing Troy's thoughts."

"Poor Dietrich needs a break, Jack. A very long break. Besides, I hate to say this because you still don't like thinking about it, but maybe you're the best person for Troy to talk to. You do understand how he feels."

Moffitt didn't respond at first. He then nodded a little. "I do, but can I think about it?"

"Of course."

"Thanks." Moffitt kissed Vanora's cheek. "Is that all that's bothering you, darling?"

"There are a lot of things bothering me at the moment, but they're things that can wait until we're alone later."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

"Alright." He nuzzled her, then stood. "Would you like to be involved with planning the attack on the castle?"

"No. I wouldn't know what I'm looking at. You have experience, so it'll be best to just let you and the others do all the planning. I'll just serve the tea and coffee while you all talk."

"Fair enough. Don't hesitate to chime in if you have an idea."

Vanora inwardly scoffed at the notion that she would have a good idea to contribute. The closest thing she got to battle was hitting the gargoyle with a chair. She kept those thoughts to herself as she followed Moffitt out to the kitchen, and got to work helping Tully with making dinner for everyone.