"I just got out of a meeting with Campus Security," said Henry to the gathered members of the Societie Royale. "Apparently, five upperclassmen have gone missing. Or, rather, they've been missing since the beginning of the term, and it's only now that their absences have been noticed."
Murmured gasps shook the room, followed by a chorus of questions.
"Do they have any leads?"
"Is the campus safe?"
"What do they expect us to do about it?"
Henry waited for the questions to die down before continuing.
"I appreciate your patience in this matter, he said. "Unfortunately, I don't have much more to give you. Campus Security was able to track them to an alley near the docks, but there's no sign of what may have happened to them there."
That revelation quieted the room.
"Why did they notify us?" asked Jessamine.
"Due to our influence on this campus and in Britannia as a whole, they felt it was proper to give us a warning," Henry replied. "We may be called on to provide security support if things get out of hand, but I don't think that will happen."
Five students vanish in an alleyway, Jessamine thought. No trace of them… how is that possible? I should approach this like an intelligence operation.
First question: are they still alive?
Unknown.
Second question: is this related to the operatives infiltrating the Academy?
Possibly. Perhaps they stumbled upon the enemies and were killed, or perhaps they themselves are the operatives and are now in hiding, but neither of these theories can be verified yet.
Third question: is this related to Elisabeth Blackstone?
Unknown. Should look into her alibi for the time of their disappearance.
Fourth question: how did they get out of the alley?
Unknown. The answer to this may help us answer the other questions.
Jessamine sighed.
I should probably ask Mother to assist…
***
It was rare for Jessamine to have moments of quiet serenity.
Between her responsibilities as a member of the di Cadenza family, her national role as a Master-level magician, her leadership within the Academy and the Societie, not to mention her own magical studies—she barely got enough sleep, let alone any free time with which to relax.
This was expected of her, and she wasn't unhappy with her life.
Because of that, she was relishing the current moment.
Jessamine was sitting on a bench at the end of a forgotten, run-down pier at the end of the harbor. She sipped gently at a piping-hot cup of coffee which she had picked up from one of the waterfront's many establishments along with a bagel; while it wasn't nearly as regular as she desired, this was her favorite spot to have breakfast on Avalonne-du-Prix due to its view of the harbor.
"Mornin', Ms. di Cadenza!" the barista had said. He had been working here since her first term, and had always greeted her with a smile. Part of him reminded her of her father; his smile always helped her cheer up.
"Good morning," she replied with a small smile of her own. "I'll have my usual, please."
"Comin' right up!"
Jessamine watched as the morning ferry pulled into the harbor. It was surprisingly graceful for how large and boxy it appeared, though perhaps it only appeared more graceful because it wasn't attempting to transport a hundred eager freshmen.
Now, the ferry only had a few tourists.
Business as usual, she thought.
Avalonne-du-Prix was technically public property, as the Royal Academy of Magick was a public university, though the difficulty involved in reaching the island limited the amount of visitors they received. Still, it wasn't uncommon for tourists to come to the island, as was the case today.
I hope you get your money's worth.
She took her time with her bagel and coffee, enjoying the moments of quiet observation as she watched the ferrygoers explore the harbor with genuine interest. The shopkeepers pounced on them, of course, managing to sell trinkets and souvenirs to a handful—the wise ones would purchase such goods in the Academy Town, where they were of higher quality.
Invariably, the tourists would always split off into groups once the harbor had exhausted its allure; some would brave the road up to the Academy, others would circumnavigate the island, and the rare few would remain in the harbor long enough to have breakfast and properly enjoy their surroundings.
Jessamine would always appreciate the latter tourists.
Now, though, she watched the groups head towards their various destinations.
Doesn't look like many are staying behind. They're missing out on Ernest's coffee.
Her attention shifted elsewhere, having been disappointed by the tourists' behavior.
The sea is beautifully calm today.
The sea can be calm, or it can be brutal... it doesn't have to hide, it doesn't have to control itself.
The sea just exists.
I wish I were like the sea, only disturbed by a passing ferry...
Even the ferry's wake seems smooth and intentional.
Smooth, intentional… just like the aura of Caspian Dawson.
That guy… he's like me. He's hiding himself from the world.
But why?
I can't tell if he wants acclaim or not.
We should pay attention to him. I get the feeling he'd be a dangerous enemy to make.
"Um—excuse me?"
The voice came from behind her; Jessamine turned and saw a girl around the same age as herself, along with a more elderly man standing sheepishly some distance behind.
He's trying to avoid embarrassing her. A father, perhaps?
"Can I help you?" she said, putting on a polite smile.
"Uh—Hi!—uh—yes, I mean, thank you!" the girl stuttered, clearly nervous, though her smile made it clear that it was a joyful nervousness. "You're—you're Jessamine di Cadenza, right?!"
"I am," Jessamine replied, letting out a small giggle to put the girl at ease. "I take it you're visiting the island? Would you like a tour?"
"Ohmygosh, would you?!"
The girl was beaming, but that changed when she heard her father clear his throat.
"Oh—right, I'm sorry, I'm nervous, you see," she apologized. "We don't want to take up so much of your time. I just—I'm a fan of yours—I thought I recognized you, and my dad said we should come say 'Hi.'"
"Well, it's nice to meet you," said Jessamine, extending her hand with a warm smile. "I'm Jessamine, but you can call me Jess. And you are…?"
The girl grasped Jessamine's hand enthusiastically and gave her a surprisingly-firm handshake.
"It's such a pleasure to meet you!" she squealed. "I'm Emily, that's my dad Patrick, we're from Chelsea and we were in the area and my dad knows how much I've wanted to see Avalonne and—oh, look at me, I'm rambling again, I'm so sorry!"
Jessamine smile.
"Emily?"
"Yes?" The girl looked at her with awe and admiration after hearing her own name on her hero's lips.
"You can let go now," said Jessamine.
"Oh!" exclaimed Emily, releasing Jessamine's hand as the magician laughed heartily. "I'm so sorry, Ms. di Cadenza—"
"Hey, I told you to call me Jess."
"I'm so sorry—Jess—!!" The girl looked like she was about to faint from giddiness when she heard her father clear his throat once again. "Oh, we really should be going, I'm sorry to have bothered you."
"It's no bother at all," Jessamine replied. "I'll see if I can look you up next time I'm in Chelsea."
That would make sure the girl wouldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day—maybe the week.
As Emily began walking back to the harbor, her father mouthed "Thank you" to Jessamine, to which the latter nodded politely as if to say "Of course, it's my pleasure."
Jessamine kept her eyes on the pair as they started making their way around the island, paying attention to the mannerisms which revealed the girl's total elation, until she could see them no more.
She then turned back towards the harbor and opened the small sheet of paper which 'Emily' had slipped into Jessamine's hand during their handshake.
On it was a series of eight numbers.
Jessamine brought up the keypad on her phone and began dialing, starting with 020—the trunk code for London, and by extension, Chelsea.
The phone rang twice, then connected. There was no voice on the other end.
"Emily," said Jessamine, and she heard a single beep in response.
"Patrick," she said, and heard another beep.
"Authorization accepted," an automated voice replied. "Please hold one moment while we connect you to mission command."
Jessamine waited, watching the morning ferry departing from Avalonne.
"Ms. di Cadenza?"
"Here."
"Excellent. Sorry for the cloak-and-dagger nonsense, but the general communication channels cannot be trusted. We've confirmed that Avalonne has been infiltrated by agents of the same group that orchestrated the attempt on the King's life."
"You have something for me?"
"Yes, well, you know we don't usually activate civilians for this kind of thing, but given your family background and your status as a magician—there's no one better. More importantly, there are very few others that we can trust."
"I'm listening, and I also have a few items to investigate on your end."
Yes, it truly was rare for Jessamine to have a moment of serenity.
***
The past twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind for Arthur Trevena, who still refused to use the name Pendragon.
The meeting with his…father; the announcement; the shooting; the men in black shepherding him back to Heathrow, waiting in a depressingly-plain room, being herded again onto a plane—not private this time, commercial, business-class—a hurried explanation from one of the King's advisors.
They were sending him to the States, where he would be in the keeping of 'a close ally' whilst the King was in hospital and MI5 rooted out the assassin. It was safer this way, they said.
Arthur regretted that he never had a chance to say goodbye to his father, well, his adoptive father, now, before he left.
A similar emotion was present, directed towards his mother, though he wasn't sure what to say to her.
I wonder if my father knew about my mother's affair.
I don't know whether it's better that he knew, or better that he didn't.
I wonder if they're fighting…
I don't want to leave.
I don't have a choice.
I'm just as weak as I was back then.
And he wants me to pretend to be the Absolute. What a joke.
They would be landing soon at Kennedy International, where he would be met by this 'close ally,' whomever they were. From the moment he boarded this plane, and for the entire time he was in the States, he was to remain incognito; the ally, he was told, would help with that.
He didn't see any secret agents waiting for him at the terminal, nor in baggage claim, nor when he went to the arrivals exit.
There was no featureless Rolls-Royce waiting for him this time.
It's amazing how things can change in twenty-four hours, he thought.
"Hey there, cuz!"
He spun around, startled, to see a woman with long, dark hair waving at him. She was probably about ten years older than him, he reckoned, but something about her face looked familiar.
She kinda resembles the king…
…wait, 'cuz'?!
"I'm sorry, who are you?" he asked, having developed a newfound wariness of strangers.
"I'm your cousin, silly," she said with a laugh, walking up beside him and draping her arm around his shoulder. "I'm the one who'll keep you safe while you're here. Name's Morgan. Nice to meetcha!"