The Vault of Destinies (James Potter #3) (77 page)

She's not evil,
he thought helplessly.
She's just… misinformed.

Like Eve. Just misinformed.

"What's with you, James?" Zane asked the following Thursday as the three left Cursology class and made their way into a bright, warm afternoon.

James hefted his books and squinted into the sunlight. "Nothing. Why?"

"You've been all quiet lately," Zane pressed. "Even Ralph's noticed."

Ralph nodded. "S'true. You didn't even show up for Clutch magic practice the other day. I had to power the Gauntlet myself. Didn't go so well either."

Zane laughed and clapped Ralph on the shoulder. "That's 'cause you still haven't learned to rein in that Godzilla wand of yours. I hear the Gauntlet was running so fast that parts of it were a blur. Is that true?"

"The team sure didn't think it was funny," Ralph admitted, raking his fingers through his hair. "But it definitely sharpened their reflexes. I swear, at one point, it looked like Fiorello was in two places at once trying to evade one of those clockwork battering arms."

"I'm fine," James sighed, approaching the sprawling ruin of Roberts' burnt mansion. He plopped onto a broken wall and stared out along the sunlit mall. "I'm just annoyed that we haven't figured this last bit out yet. I mean, we can't keep the horseshoe hidden forever. Someone's going to sniff it out and then we'll be totally sunk."

Zane shrugged and joined James on the broken end of the wall. Tall grass swished around the boys' feet where they dangled over the side. "I don't know," he replied. "Hiding the unicorn's shoe in the roots of the Warping Willow was totally genius. That horseshoe may have some powerful mojo in it, but if it's stronger than the Willow, I'll eat a Clutch. That's a big score for the Ralphinator."

"It was nothing," Ralph said, trying not to grin with pride. "I was just thinking back to our first year when Delacroix hid the Merlin throne right on Hogwarts grounds since it was the only place in the country that was magical enough and protected enough to overshadow that kind of power. If it worked for her, I thought it might work for us."

Zane nodded. "It's an excellent idea no matter what. I bet if old Mags had thought of it, he might actually have
made
it to the World Between the Worlds and not gotten shot down in an alley like a cowboy at high noon."

James shook his head, not at all sharing in his friends' carefree attitudes. "It's just that it's
taking
too long," he said, smacking his hand on the stone next to him. "That idiot Keynes, the arbiter, is nearly finished with his inspection. Dad sent me a note saying that he ran into him at the Crystal Mountain. Keynes told him that he wouldn't need to interview any of us after all, said that he'd found all the information he needed elsewhere. That can only mean one thing, can't it? He's about ready to make his judgment and he's found just what he needed to convict Petra and send her to prison!"

"But who could he have talked to?" Ralph asked, kicking at the weeds near a fallen chunk of stone wall. "We were the only witnesses to what happened. Who else would tell him that someone that looked an awful lot like Petra came walking out afterwards? I mean, the only people we told were Rose and Scorpius through the Shard. If Keynes had talked to them, they definitely would have told us."

James frowned dourly. Ralph may be right about Rose, but James himself wasn't so sure about Scorpius. "Either way, if we're going to figure out this stupid riddle, we'd better do it right quick. Otherwise, there won't be any point. They'll have passed judgment on Petra and carted her off and Izzy will wind up in some Muggle foster home, probably with all her memories of us completely Obliviated."

"But we've checked out everything we could think of," Zane said, raising his eyebrows and hands at the same time. "We got bupkis! If the Nexus Curtain lies within the eyes of Roebitz, then Roebitz sure ain't talking about it.
I'm
all out of ideas and I know from experience that that means
you
two are completely tapped out as well." He sighed and shook his head.

"Hey,
I'm
the one what thought of hiding the horseshoe under the Warping Willow," Ralph reminded the blonde boy, scowling in annoyance. Zane shrugged again and rolled his eyes.

"I just hate feeling stuck like this," James groused darkly. "We're so
close
and yet we're completely stymied. I feel like that bloke Roberts who had to live on top of the sunken Aquapolis like a shipwreck survivor, so close to civilization, but cut off from it, all alone up on top with nothing but the waves and the seagulls to keep him company." He leaned forward and crossed his forearms over his knees, exhaling dourly. A moment later, he realized that Zane was staring hard at him.

"
What
did you just say?" the blonde boy asked in a low, emphatic voice.

James shrugged it off. "It was just this bloke that we met on the journey here. He lived on the very top of the Aquapolis, the part that poked up out of the ocean like an island whenever the city was sunk beneath the surface…"

"No, no," Zane said, his eyes growing sharp. "Before that!
What
did you say his name was?"

James glanced quizzically back at Zane, but it was Ralph who answered.

"Roberts?" he said. "What's the big deal about that?"

Zane's eyes bulged. He looked back and forth between James and Ralph in apparent amazement. "What's the big deal?" he exclaimed. "You two just
said
it!
Roebitz
! You're seriously telling me that this island dude's name was
Roebitz
?"

James looked aside at Ralph. "We didn't
say
Roebitz," he replied in a puzzled voice. "We said
Roberts
. Can't you hear?"

"Spell it!" Zane demanded, nearly vibrating with excitement.

Ralph sighed, and spelled out the name. Zane's eyes bulged even further.

"It's your accent!" he said, as if to himself. "The English accent! When you say Roberts… it
sounds
like
Roebitz
!"

"
We
don't have any accent," Ralph scowled. "You Americans do."

"Don't you see?" Zane said, pushing James hard enough to nearly knock him off the stone wall. "Magnussen spoke with the same accent you two do! He never approved of the country's break from England and insisted on speaking the same way you Brits do! He called it 'the King's English', remember?"

James' own eyes began to widen slowly. "In the Disrecorder vision," he said, "when Franklyn was explaining Magnussen's riddles, he
imitated
Magnussen's
accent!
We didn't recognize it, though since Franklyn's an American. We heard it wrong because we didn't recognize that he was mimicking the way Magnussen
spoke
. He didn't say 'Roebitz' at all!"

Ralph finished the thought for all of them. "He said
Roberts,"
the big boy breathed in a low voice, glancing at his friends. "The Nexus Curtain… lies within the eyes of
Roberts
!"

All three boys stared at one another, dumbstruck. Slowly, they all turned toward the ruin behind them, looking up over the broken bits of garden wall and the weed-choked stairs toward the remains of the grand façade. The lintel over the door still bore the engraved name of the original owner: 'ROBERTS'.

In front of this, jutting crookedly up out of the tall grass, just as always, was the statue of the man himself, his stern face weathered with age, his wand held purposely at his side.

"The eyes of Roberts," James said quietly, suddenly flush with adrenaline.

"It can't be that easy," Ralph muttered, shaking his head. "Can it?"

"Only one way to find out," Zane said, jumping down from the stone wall and clapping his hands together. "Whaddaya say, Ralph? Feel like giving me a little boost?"

Three minutes later, James stood in the shadow of the statue of Roberts, peering up at Zane as he stood atop Ralph's shoulders, struggling to reach the back of the statue's head.

"It's a good thing this thing's pedestal is mostly buried in the dirt," Ralph grunted. "Otherwise we'd never be able to reach the top of it."

"There're holes in the back of the head!" Zane called down. "Two of them, side by side, see? Push me up a little higher, Ralph."

"I'm pushing as high as I can," Ralph groaned, struggling to stand on tiptoes. "What do you see?"

"Nothing," Zane said, his voice muffled as he pressed his eyes to the back of the statue's head. "The holes go all the way through the statue, right out the eyes, as far as I can tell. But there isn't anything inside here at all."

James frowned, and then a burst of inspiration struck him. "Can you see through the front?" he called up. "Like, what if the secret isn't literally
in
his eyes. What if it's what he's looking at?"

Zane was silent for a moment as he struggled to line up his own eyes with the holes in the back of the statue's head. Finally, he shook his head.

"No good," he replied. "It's all blurry. I can't line up the holes, somehow. It's like being totally near-sighted."

"Hurry it up," Ralph grunted. "Your heels are like anvils. How can a skinny little prat like you weigh so bloody much?"

"Wait a minute!" James said suddenly. "I've got an idea!"

Swiftly, he dropped his knapsack and unzipped it. He dug for several seconds and finally retrieved something from the bag's recesses.

"Here," he said, jumping up and turning to Ralph. "Hand these up to him."

"Your glasses?" Ralph frowned, glancing at the object in his hands. "You're serious?"

"It could work!" James insisted. "Just hand them up to him!"

"Let's see 'em, Ralph," Zane called down, reaching. "You never know. James is due for a good idea one of these times."

Ralph reached up and handed the glasses off to Zane. Carefully, Zane stretched up again, wrapping his arm around the statue's neck and pushing the glasses onto the stony face.

"Uh oh," he said suddenly.

"What!?" James called.

"I heard a crack," the blonde boy called back. "I think ol' Roberts has a bigger head than you, James. I think he broke the nose of your specs. Sorry."

James sighed. "I have a spare," he said, rolling his eyes. "Can you see any better?"

Zane pressed his eyes to the back of Roberts' carved head again. There was a long, tense moment as he adjusted the glasses and struggled to pull himself into position. He was nearly riding piggyback on the statue's leaning back now.

"It works!" he finally announced. "Sorta."

"What do you mean 'sorta'?" Ralph asked.

Zane adjusted the spectacles on the statue's face again. "Well," he called down, "I can see through Roberts' eyes all right. The glasses work almost like a telescope. It's just that there isn't much to see. At least, not anything that's very helpful."

"What is it?" James demanded, nearly hopping with impatience.

"Roberts seems to just be staring straight down the mall toward Administration Hall," Zane replied, still peering through the back of the statue's head. "He's looking right at the front doors, in fact. They're propped open, so I can see right through the main corridor. Hey! There's Albus and Lucy! Probably going to get an early dinner."

James shook his head. "That
can't
be the secret entrance to the Nexus Curtain. We've been in there a hundred times."

"Well, that's what's in the eyes of Roberts," Zane called back. "Maybe we should go snoop around in there a little more. Who knows what might be—" He stopped suddenly and pressed himself harder against the back of the statue's head, frowning slightly.

"
What
?" Ralph asked impatiently. "What might be what?"

"Hold on," Zane said. "Someone's opening up the doors on the other end of the main corridor now. I can see straight through the whole building. Cool."

James waited. He knew what was on the other end of the campus, behind Administration Hall. Victory Hill was the honorary home of every year's Clutchcudgel tournament winner. According to tradition, the night of the final match was marked by the magical March of the Houses, when the winning team's residence would magically arise from its cellar and circle the campus, coming to rest on the permanent foundation atop the hill near Pepperpock Down. Unfortunately, Zane himself had not witnessed a March of the Houses, nor had anyone else for the past ten years or so, since Team Werewolf had handily won the Clutchcudgel tournament for over a decade, thus holding onto that position of honor.