Soft footsteps fell in the hall, and a moment later, Pavel poked his head around the doorframe like a curious cat.
Arthur swallowed. “I can’t find Rory,” he quietly admitted.
Pavel furrowed his brow. Even lighter footsteps came down the hall, and then Sasha was looking into the room as well. “Arthur? What are you doing down here?”
He deserved her surprise. It wasn’t like he’d been able to come check on them at any other time, too busy meeting Harry’s friends and the host of other things that had kept him busy. “I’m looking for Rory. Have you seen him?”
“Not since this morning.” She looked at Pavel, who shook his head.
Arthur held up the paper. “His note says he went for a walk.”
Sasha’s eyebrows flew up. “He must be back by now then, yes? It’s dark and has grown very cold.”
Arthur quickly got to his feet. “I’m going to search the house and grounds.”
He stepped to the door, but Sasha held up her hand. “Wait. Please.” She turned to Pavel and spoke in urgent Russian. The only word Arthur could make out wasRory.
As soon as she finished, Pavel looked around the room, then pointed at the box on the bed. Arthur lifted the lid, revealing the brass compass nestled in a bit of silk.
“Is that Rory’s?” said Sasha.
“As of this afternoon, yes.”
“Give it to Pavel.”
Arthur didn’t understand, but Sasha and Pavel so rarely asked for anything. He held out the compass box to Pavel, who took it, then held out his hand again.
Arthur blinked, then passed over the one thing he was still holding: Rory’s note.
Pavel turned on his heel and strode right out of the room.
“Pavel, wait—”
“Come.” Sasha was following her brother. “He will help you.”
Arthur chased after them, across the hall and into their room. “How can he help—oh.”
Because the note in Pavel’s hand was yellowing and burning without fire, almost like aging, Rory’s ink fading and then disappearing.
Arthur quickly shut the door.
“Alchemy,” Sasha said quietly. “His magic is transmuting Rory’s note.”
The more the paper changed, the more pinched and strained Pavel’s face became. “Is it hurting him?” Arthur whispered, concerned.
“It exhausts him,” she whispered back. “Normally, he lets his ingredients change as they will. But now, he’s forcing magic to do his bidding.”
A moment later, Pavel’s right palm held a small pile of ash. Arthur swallowed, watching the hand tremble as Pavel set the compass box on the dresser. He opened the top of the box, then held his right hand over it and unhesitatingly tipped his palm to let the ashes fall.
Arthur made a noise of surprise, automatically moving forward. But the ash was disappearingintothe compass as if the compass’s brass was a sponge. Within seconds, every trace of the ash had vanished and all that remained was the compass, its needle spinning in rapid circles.
It spun several times...and then slowed to a stop, but not on north.
On west.
Pavel tapped the compass face. “Rory,” he said, thickly accented, his voice deeper and more gravelly than expected.
And then he stumbled. Arthur darted forward, but Sasha was already there.
