When Freya had seen Regulus deal with the masked figure firsthand, every last doubt had evaporated.
She'd been watching him the entire time, of course.
She'd brought him from England. The assignment was hers. Letting him get hurt on day one was not an option.
So she'd seen it clearly: that grey-green curse vanishing for the briefest instant before impact, crossing a sliver of distance through nothing, and reappearing directly against the target's chest.
The spell's effect alone was impressive enough. What made it extraordinary was the delivery.
Freya looked into Regulus's eyes and found them bright with anticipation.
She nodded, said nothing more, and stowed her wand. The map dissolved.
They finished the rest of their meal and headed back.
"Goodnight, Freya."
"Goodnight, Regulus."
She watched him push the door open and go inside, then turned and left.
He closed the door and leaned against it for a moment.
All that buildup. Was it finally about to start?
He wasn't sure what the real relationship between the Abyssal Whispers and the Eisenhardt Family looked like. Genuine opposition, or a performance of it.
He was looking forward to tomorrow.
---
The next morning.
Since they were headed for an Abyssal Whispers stronghold with the possibility of a fight, Regulus outfitted himself in this town.
The town was small, magic shops fewer still. Freya walked him through each one until they found what they needed at a store specializing in protective gear.
A black base layer made from the hide of some marine creature, soft but tough, resistant to a fair degree of cutting and blunt impact.
Over that, a dark grey cropped jacket of specially treated dragonhide. Waterproof, windproof, light.
High-topped boots with anti-slip runes carved into the soles, built for wet rock.
Regulus changed into the full kit and checked the mirror.
He turned to Freya. She'd changed too.
Almost the same setup. Black base layer, dark grey dragonhide jacket, matching trousers, high boots.
The cut followed a different silhouette, fitted at the waist, which only emphasized how tall she was.
She stood there with her braid hanging behind her, every inch the sharp-edged warrior.
Regulus glanced at her, then down at himself.
They looked like they were wearing a matching set.
They walked out of the shop and toward the edge of town.
The sun was generous. Plenty of residents were out and about.
Past the town limits, a narrow path wound down along the cliff's edge.
Jagged rock formations crowded the shoreline. The crash of waves grew louder with every step.
He'd assumed they'd fly. A hundred and twenty nautical miles on a broomstick was barely over an hour.
Or Apparate somewhere nearby and cover the rest by air.
But Freya led him down to a small natural harbor at the base of the cliff, ringed by boulders, the water so clear he could see sea urchins eating starfish on the bottom.
She pulled a glass bottle from her pocket.
Palm-sized, covered in dense runic script, glowing faintly blue in the sunlight.
Inside was a ship. Miniature, but exquisitely detailed.
Regulus's eyebrow twitched. The sense of deja vu hit hard.
Freya set the bottle on a flat rock and tapped it with her wand.
The glass flared with light, then crumbled like sand, sifting downward and scattering in the sea breeze.
The tiny ship hung in the air where the bottle had been, still in its shrunken form.
A flick of her wand sent it arcing outward. It sailed over the water and dropped into the sea thirty meters out.
The moment it touched water, the hull began to expand.
It grew fast. Ten meters.... twenty.... thirty. It stopped at the size of a proper warship.
The ship sat steady on the water, rocking gently with the swell.
Regulus was about to ask the obvious question. She'd launched it that far out. How were they supposed to board?
Freya glanced sideways at him. Something flickered in her eyes. Amusement, maybe. Or something close to it.
Then she vanished.
Apparition.
She reappeared on the ship's deck, standing at the rail, facing him.
Regulus stood on the rocks, mildly speechless.
This town had anti-Apparition wards. He'd sensed them the moment they'd arrived, and Freya had confirmed it.
The coverage extended over the entire town and a substantial stretch of the surrounding waters.
That she could Apparate through meant she had some form of clearance, an identity exception. Similar in principle to how Hogwarts' headmaster could bypass those wards, though presumably less extreme.
The question was: what had that look meant?
Showing off?
Regulus stood on the rocks and stared at the small figure on the distant deck.
She stood facing him. Even across all that distance, he could feel her watching.
Well then. What was he supposed to do about that?
The anti-Apparition ward. He wanted to test it.
He closed his eyes and opened his spatial perception to its fullest range.
The structure of the surrounding space unfolded in his consciousness. Rock, seawater, air, and the invisible barrier woven through all of it, the anti-Apparition ward's lockdown.
It was like a wall, blanketing the entire area.
But walls weren't perfectly sealed. Seconds ago, Freya's Apparition had torn through the spatial fabric, leaving a trace behind.
Space could heal itself, smoothing out the rift in time. But only a few seconds had passed. The scar was still fresh.
Regulus locked onto it. Position, direction, the width of the tear.
A master-level wizard skilled in Apparition could track that kind of residual distortion to follow someone who'd just jumped. Back in Hogsmeade, Moody had done exactly that, appearing right on the heels of dark wizards the instant they materialized.
But the anti-Apparition ward changed the equation. Regulus needed to do more than track.
He drew a slow breath. Magic surged.
Space Warp. Not to fold himself through, he still couldn't manage that, but to fold open a passage.
Along the scar Freya's Apparition had left, he worked the principles of Space Warp into the existing tear, prying it wider.
The anti-Apparition ward reacted at once. The invisible wall contracted toward the breach, trying to close it.
His wand moved in rapid succession. Five spatial anchors punched into the gap.
They locked instantly, bracing the rift open, preventing it from sealing shut.
The spell held. The anchors held.
Regulus felt the channel to the ship's deck snap into place.
He Apparated.
His body squeezed into the narrow rift, compressed, crushed, then burst free on the other side.
His feet hit solid wood. He stood beside Freya.
The deck swayed beneath him. Wind swept past, catching the sails with a crisp snap.
Freya turned her head. Her lips parted. She blinked... twice.
The expression was less surprise than disbelief.
She looked back toward the shore, raised her wand, and murmured a quick incantation. The tip glowed briefly, then went dark.
The anti-Apparition ward was still active.
She turned back to him, and this time the question in her eyes was unmistakable. How did you get here?
Regulus stood there and let her look.
He considered for a moment, then gave her back the exact same expression she'd worn on the rocks. That little sideways glance. A touch of amusement. A hint of smugness.
Freya stared at it. Her face froze for a beat.
Then she looked away.
Her brow furrowed, relaxed. She pressed her lips together, working to force the stern mask back into place, and deliberately refused to look at him.
Regulus laughed.
Freya heard it. The tip of her ear twitched. But she didn't turn around.
---
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