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Chapter 13: Countdown to the Show
"No practical meaning? Maybe. But my gut tells me Kid wouldn't write a meaningless line in his notice. 'Shaking Heavenly Road' must have a specific meaning. But what is it..."
"It's just this one line. If we can figure it out, we might guess Kid's entire plan and set an ambush on his path. But I just can't think of it..."
Tim racked his brain, but soon, a wave of intense drowsiness washed over him, interrupting his thoughts.
He hadn't slept properly for days. This state was normal, even though he had downed a coffee half an hour ago.
Caffeine had its limits.
"Tim, let's end tonight's activities here. Go back and get some sleep," Barbara suggested upon seeing his state.
"Sometimes, the harder you force yourself to solve a riddle, the more elusive it becomes. Besides, we have thirteen days to think."
"Yeah. You too." Tim nodded, advising Barbara in return. "I know you've been investigating desperately too. You haven't rested much more than I have."
With that, Tim left the Clock Tower.
However, even after getting home, sneaking past his parents, and lying in bed, Tim's brain couldn't stop thinking about the notice.
Shaking heavenly road... Rainbow Bridge... Space travel... Phantom Thief Kid... The connection...
His consciousness drifted.
"Tim... Drake..."
Vaguely, Tim heard a voice calling him.
"Who? Who's calling me?"
He asked in his dream.
No answer. Or rather, the mysterious voice didn't respond to his question, but continued calling his name, clearer now.
"Tim! Tim Drake?"
As the voice clarified, Tim felt something was wrong.
This voice sounded familiar...
"Hey, wake up!"
Suddenly, the volume spiked, jolting Tim from his dream.
Opening his eyes, a very familiar figure appeared before him.
Height five-six, heavy set, fifty-two years old, female, wearing old-fashioned clothes, holding a textbook.
Mrs. Holmes, the math teacher at Gotham High.
Hmm... nothing seemed wrong with her identity. She was indeed someone Tim knew well.
The problem was, why was she here? Shouldn't he be sleeping in his bed?
Wait!
Bed?
His bed wasn't this hard. And his posture wasn't lying down; he was sitting!
Could it be?
A terrifying realization surfaced in Tim's mind.
He looked left and right stealthily, his eyes widening in shock.
He was in the classroom!
When did he come to school? He had no memory of it!
Tim only remembered drifting off while thinking about the riddle. Then he closed his eyes, opened them, and he was here. It was like a blackout.
"Am I still dreaming?"
Tim muttered internally, pinching his thigh under the desk.
The pain proved he was likely awake.
"You're finally awake, Mr. Drake."
Mrs. Holmes spoke expressionlessly.
"Please tell me, is listening to my lecture that sleep-inducing?"
Honestly, yes. One semester of your class is slower than a week of self-study.
Tim wanted to say that, but now fully awake, he knew what lines were off-limits.
"Uh... I'm sorry, Mrs. Holmes. I was just studying a bit late last night."
"Hmph. I hope that's the case. I must remind you, this isn't the first time."
Mrs. Holmes huffed coldly.
"I promise, this is the last time. It won't happen again." Tim swore immediately.
Once Mrs. Holmes returned to the podium, Tim turned to his left.
Darren was grinning at him, enjoying the show.
"Darren, why didn't you wake me up when Mrs. Holmes came over?" Tim complained in a whisper.
"I called you! You were sleeping like the dead. I couldn't wake you." Darren cried injustice.
"What did you do last night? You've been groggy since you walked through the gate."
"...Nothing. Like I said, studying too late."
Tim couldn't let his best friend know he was Robin, so he laughed dryly.
"Really? I didn't know you loved studying so much."
Darren eyed Tim suspiciously.
In reality, Darren knew exactly why Tim was tired. It definitely had something to do with him.
From their earlier conversation about Kid's outfit, Darren realized Tim was investigating him.
But no one knew better than Darren how much effort he put into leaving no traces. He knew that once Tim and the others started searching, their only path was to check everyone who appeared in the museum surveillance one by one.
Obviously, that was a massive undertaking.
Given the Bat-Family's nocturnal habits, Tim probably hadn't closed his eyes in days.
Especially since Darren released the new notice yesterday. It would be stranger if Tim had gotten a good rest.
There's a thirteen-day gap until the next operation. Tim will definitely recover his stamina by then. Unless something unexpected happens, I'll likely face Robin directly this time.
Darren thought to himself.
I wonder how far they've cracked the notice. But even if they think for thirteen days, they won't decipher the full meaning.
He was confident for a reason.
When writing this notice, Darren had set a small trap.
One sentence was impossible to interpret correctly.
"By the way, the Vanaver family's memorial banquet in ten days is making a huge splash. Your dad is the CEO of Drake Enterprises, right? He must be invited," Darren whispered to Tim.
"Yeah. I'm going with my dad. Speaking of which, were you invited?" Tim looked at Darren.
"Who? Me? You're kidding. I'm not high society. Why would they invite me?"
Darren pointed at himself, feigning disbelief.
"Hey, you're the one kidding. You're the son of the Escape King, Gotham's rising magic star. You have higher social status than half the invitees." Tim rolled his eyes.
"Who knows. Anyway, I didn't get an invite. Maybe they don't like magicians." Darren shrugged, indifferent. "And you know me. Even if they invited me, I wouldn't bother going."
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