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boy of active conscience and fundamental decency. A boy who, if anything, judged himself too harshly for his imperfections.
    As she studied him, her despair began to fade. They were not impotent bystanders. They would take on this tyrant and, should Fortune smile upon them, topple him from power.
    Besides, it was almost impossible not to be filled with hope when she looked at her beloved.
    They were still alive, still free, and still together.
    He leaned against the upright side of the carpet, his shoulders slumped forward—he must be unbearably weary, having been on the run since their arrival in the desert, hauling her mostly unconscious person alongside without even knowing who she was.
    But she knew that if she suggested he needed rest, he would brush it aside. Fortunately for him, she was not above playing the damsel in distress. “I hate to admit it, but I’m getting a bit tired. Can we stop for a minute?”
    â€œOf course,” he said immediately. “Let me find a good place.”
    A suitable place, however, was not immediately to be had. There was nearly enough light to see, and the patch of desert they were traversing was flat and featureless.
    As they searched, Iolanthe asked Kashkari, “Why did our allies contact Durga Devi during the battle? Do they all know one another?”
    â€œYou took the question right off my tongue,” said Titus.
    â€œShe does know, after a fashion, some parties with a good deal of power from the Domain,” answered Kashkari. “Remember when I was late coming back to school at the beginning of the Half?”
    Terms at Eton College were referred to as Halves. For reasons that made sense only to nonmages, there were three Halves every year: Easter Half, which began in January and ended before Easter; Summer Half, wedged between Easter Holiday and summer holiday; and Michaelmas Half, covering roughly all of autumn.
    The prince had brought Iolanthe to Eton at the beginning of Summer Half. They had become separated during the summer holiday, but had managed to reunite at school at the start of Michaelmas Half. That was when they had been informed that Kashkari’s steamer had run into rough seas en route and had been delayed. Titus and Iolanthe had accepted the news at face value, neither suspecting that Kashkari might not be the nonmage Indian boy he very much seemed to be.
    â€œI remember,” she said. He didn’t come back until that fateful house party on the coast of the North Sea. “You told Titus later thatyou were late because you and your brother were busy informing as many mages as possible that Madame Pierredure was long dead and any news of her emerging from retirement to lead a new resistance movement was Atlantis using her to round up those with rebellion on their minds.”
    â€œAnd while we were doing that,” said Kashkari, “Amara was thinking on a more strategic level. We were no match for Atlantis either in the size of our force or the sophistication of our matériel. The plan had been to exchange training and know-how with other rebel bases, but with Atlantis’s traps having reeled in so many rebels, she decided to investigate an offer of assistance she’d had from a mysterious source that claimed to be able to tap into the assets of a major mage realm.
    â€œIt was a huge risk, but Amara has never been afraid of risks. A meeting was arranged with a liaison in Casablanca. She then asked the liaison to prove that he truly had access to all the equipment and ammunition that he claimed. She was taken on a trip that lasted nearly twelve hours, and she was certain a large portion of it involved a sea voyage on a ship launched from a dry dock—even blindfolded and with her ears plugged, she could still smell the ocean and feel the rolling of the waves. When she was allowed to see again, she found herself in a huge cavern stockpiled with an eye-popping assortment of war machines.
    â€œAmara is a