The Vault of Destinies (James Potter #3) (54 page)

"Such obstinacy will not do you well as I pursue your case, Ms. Morganstern," Keynes said, his smile growing equally icy. "You may wish to alter your tone, lest I decide you are even more of a risk than I had heretofore envisioned."

"I doubt that would be a mistake," Petra said. James was almost certain that he saw her breath come out in puffs of fog as she spoke.

The tension in the air seemed to spike and James felt a sudden, inexplicable fear that something terrible was about to happen. Images flickered behind his eyes: a black castle, huge and dead, perched on the edge of a cliff; watching eyes hidden in shadow; a white hand holding a singularly ugly dagger with blood dripping from the blade. These were visions from Petra's dreams. They came to him now, flashing like lightning, cold as icicles. Somehow, she was broadcasting them to him, apparently unintentionally, on that invisible silver cord that still connected him to her. It was as if she was cycling up, like some kind of magical generator. He felt it, and it was awful, terrifying. What was she? How could she be so mysteriously powerful? James looked across the room, toward Albert Keynes, and suddenly he wanted to yell at the man to shut up, to stop antagonizing Petra. Not only because James loved her, but because he was afraid of her.

But then, surprisingly, James' father spoke.

"I completely understand your predicament, Mr. Keynes," he said, and his tone of voice seemed to sap the tension from the room. "After all, I am a man of the law myself. I am responsible for Ms. Morganstern's presence here. How would it be if I took responsibility for her, and her sister Izabella, during the course of your investigation?"

James turned to look at his dad, wide-eyed, as did Petra.

"It's a kind offer, Mr. Potter," Keynes said stiffly, sitting up straight in his seat. "But one I am duty-bound to refuse. The law, as I have mentioned, is quite clear."

"And as I have said, Mr. Keynes," Harry said a bit more loudly, "I am also a man of the law. And I'd like to remind you that
international
magical law provides allowance for foreign detainees to be given over to the custody of representative of their own nation during the course of any necessary legal proceedings."

Keynes looked hard at Harry, his eyes narrowed. The sweat on his upper lip glistened. James noticed that his father's expression, however, was perfectly neutral, as calm as a river stone.

"Are you quite certain, Mr. Potter," Keynes said softly, "that this is the course of action you truly wish to take?"

"I see no other option," Harry replied, "for a man of the law."

Keynes smiled again, slowly. "So be it, then. As a representative of the American Wizarding Court, I release Petra and Izabella Morganstern into your custody. Do know, however, that this means that both the wizarding legal authority and the Magical Integration Bureau will be watching you very closely. There will be sentinels posted near your home around the clock."

"Then they can join the ones that are already there," Harry replied with a sigh. "My wife has been known to invite them in for tea, although they have not yet taken her up on the offer."

"Mr. Potter," Petra whispered, leaning close to him. "You don't have to—"

"Is there any other business to attend to, then?" Harry interrupted, looking briskly from face to face. "No? Then I suggest that I escort Ms. Morganstern and her sister to their flat where they can gather whatever things they need."

The meeting broke up and there was a scuffling of feet and a creak as the door was swung open. Professor Cloverhoof stood near the entry, allowing the others to leave before him. His face was inscrutable as he looked down at James and winked. James followed his father out into the main hallway that ran straight through the center of Administration Hall. Petra rejoined her sister, who was waiting near the lobby stairs with Zane and Ralph. When James and his father reached the main entry, Albert Keynes sidled close to Harry, his demeanor friendly, if a bit condescending.

"I am aware, Mr. Potter," he said in a low voice, "that you provided sanctuary to Ms. Morganstern and her sister once before. It was, in fact, immediately after the unfortunate events of their last day on Morganstern Farm. Could it be that you know a bit more about those events than you are letting on?"

"I assure you, Mr. Keynes," Harry replied, "you know as much as I do about these things, and perhaps more. Your information seems to know no bounds whatsoever."

Keynes laughed, as if Harry and he were old friends. "Alas, if only that were the case. I only ask, though, because I
will
find out. If there are any secrets you might wish to divulge now, it could save us both some trouble later on. I fear that things could get a bit less… civil."

Harry paused for a long moment, and James looked up at him, watching. For a moment, James thought that his father would tell Keynes what he knew—that Petra had, in fact, been seen coming from the Hall of Archives on the night it was attacked, and maybe even that Merlinus Ambrosius harbored worries about Petra's mental state, and even her overall goodness. Finally, however, Harry merely shook his head.

"Feel free to interview me and my family, Mr. Keynes," Harry said, glancing down at James. "We are in the habit of telling the truth. Sometimes, however, you have to ask the right questions."

Keynes nodded, as if this was exactly the sort of answer he had expected. "Very good. I will begin my investigation this very night, and if it becomes necessary, I will indeed take you up on your offer. For now, I bid you good night. And, er, good luck. I suspect you will need it."

With that, Keynes pushed open one of the heavy front doors and vanished into the darkness beyond, humming happily to himself.

"Odious man," Franklyn said with a sigh. "But such individuals are, arguably, the grease that oils the axle of civilization."

Professor Cloverhoof nodded. "And in much the same way, one feels the need to scrub one's hands after coming into contact with them."

Murmuring agreement, the group made their way out into the chilly darkness.

Walking between James and his father, Petra asked, "Are you sure you really want to do this, Mr. Potter? It'll only make things harder for you and your family. I can handle myself, if I need to."

"It's nothing," Harry replied briskly, but then glanced down at her as they moved across the windy campus. In a lower voice, he said. "But pardon me for asking this, Petra, and know that I will only do so once:
did
you do what Mr. Henredon alleges? Were you involved, for some reason, in the attack on the Vault? Because Mr. Keynes, disagreeable as he is, is quite correct. The truth will be known. It is better to speak now than to be found out later. Are you guilty?"

Petra looked at Harry, and then at James. "I'm not. I swear it. I know a lot of weird stuff has happened around me, but I'm as baffled by it as everyone else. I want to know the truth just as much as Mr. Keynes does. Please believe me."

James spoke up. "I believe you, Petra," he said, meeting her eyes. She smiled aside at him, a little sadly.

Harry Potter, however, didn't say anything at all.

"
I
thought you told me," Zane said the next day, "that if there was any connection between this old Professor Magnussen story and the attack on the Vault, your dad and Merlin and everybody else were already all over it."

James shook his head. "Come on," he urged. "It's already ten 'til two. Franklyn's office hours are nearly over."

"Yeah," Ralph said, warming to the subject. "What ever happened to all that stuff about us just being a bunch of school students with too much to do to get all wrapped up in any big adventures?"

James grabbed Ralph's sleeve and pulled the bigger boy around the corner into a high corridor lined with partially open doors. "That was then, this is now, all right? Dad's got his hands full with his own problems, especially now that he's got Petra and Izzy staying with them while that Keynes idiot does his investigating. We're not taking
over
for him, we're just helping. If there
is
anything to this whole thing about Professor Magnussen and the Nexus Curtain, we'll send it his way."

"I see how it is," Zane said with a smile. "Now that Petra Morganstern's fate is in the balance, you're willing to break the old Prime Directive, eh?"

"I don't even know what that means," James sighed impatiently. "Hurry. Franklyn's office door is still open."

All three boys piled to a stop just outside of the tall wooden door and peered inside. The office was surprisingly small, dominated by a very large oak desk, a set of visitor's chairs, and a bookshelf crammed with enormous books and the occasional clockwork gizmo. Franklyn sat at the desk facing the door, a large volume in his hands. He glanced up as the three students clambered to a halt.

"Boys," he said welcomingly. "What can I do for you?"

"Hi Chancellor," James said, entering the small room and looking around. "Er, this is your office?"

"One of them at least," Franklyn smiled. "This is the one that serves me for meeting with students and faculty. Why do you ask?"

James shrugged as he moved to stand behind one of the visitor's chairs. "No reason. I just expected something a bit… bigger."

"We thought we'd get to see your Daylight Savings Device again," Ralph added.

"Ah, yes, that," Franklyn answered, closing his book with a thump. "I keep that in my personal study. It is far too large and complex to leave in the faculty offices. After all, we are still victim to the occasional school prank, although such things are somewhat rarer nowadays, thanks to Madam Laosa."

"You mean
Crone Laosa
?" Zane asked, his eyes widening. "So she's really for real? Some of the Zombies were saying that she was just made up to scare us all out of exploring the basements."

"How may I help you boys?" Franklyn asked, smiling a little crookedly, obviously avoiding Zane's question.

"Er," James began, clutching the back of the chair in front of him, "we just have a quick question. It's about the history of the school. We thought you'd be the best person to ask."

Franklyn nodded approvingly. "Always a pleasure to see students taking an interest in the university. And I do suppose I am uniquely qualified to discuss its history since I have been alive throughout much of it. What's your question?"

James glanced back at Ralph and Zane, suddenly reluctant. "It's… er… about one of the professors."

"From a long time ago," Ralph added.

Franklyn's chair creaked as he leaned back in it. "We've had a rather impressive list of teachers throughout the years, continuing even to the present. Mr. Bunyan, the giant, is one of our most recent additions, and believe me, it was no small task to convince him to take the post. Prefers the wide open spaces, he does, along with his great blue ox, Babe."

"It's about Professor Magnussen," Zane blurted, stepping forward.

Franklyn's expression froze on his face. He paused, staring at all three boys.

"Do you remember him?" James prodded tentatively. "We looked him up in the library, but there was almost nothing. His full name was Ignatius Karloff Magnussen, and he was Head of Igor House like a hundred and fifty years ago or something."

Franklyn continued to study the boys, his eyes suddenly cautious. He leaned forward slowly again, producing another long creak from his chair.

Ralph said, "There are legends about this Magnussen bloke. They say that he opened up something called the Nexus—"

"Boys," Franklyn interrupted, "I am afraid that Professor Magnussen is a name from a period of time that this school would prefer to forget. It would behoove you not to inquire about him any further."

"Well," Zane replied slowly, glancing aside at his friends, "as much as I'd like to agree to that, I suspect that we're just about ten times more curious now."

Franklyn sighed hugely. "I suppose you learned of this in Professor Jackson's Technomancy class, yes?" He nodded to himself, not awaiting an answer. "The professor and I have had words on the subject. We have rather differing views regarding the merits of security versus disclosure. Perhaps I simply wish to make my job as Chancellor a bit easier. Surely the good professor would agree."

James risked pressing the matter a bit further. "What can you tell us, Chancellor? Is it true that Magnussen opened the Nexus Curtain and made his way into the World Between the Worlds?"

Franklyn stood up and straightened his waistcoat. He turned toward the window and leaned to peer out over the campus.

"He used to live in the most prominent faculty home of Alma Aleron, the one that originally belonged to John Roberts, one of the school's founders. He was a brilliant man, Magnussen, and yes, I knew him. He was, in fact, that most rare of men: he was a scientist, and he was a lover of stories. His calculating mind was equal to the best technomancers who've ever lived, but his love of the tale allowed him to think in creative, ingenious ways that none of his colleagues could ever dream. The characteristics that made him great, however, also led him to… obsessions. It was these, unfortunately, that drove him to commit acts that were both heinous and ultimately senseless."