Just as you cannot see a mantis spring, or as an arrow seems less to fly than to vanish from the archer’s bow and reappear quivering in its target, so no eye could trace the speed with which Achilles was—I cannot say ran or leapt—he was across the room, with blood spattered across his knuckles, and Faust flat at his feet. Achilles didn’t speak, just flexed his shoulder and enjoyed a couple practice clenches of his fist as he strode back, smiling, to stand at wide-eyed MASON’s side. Faust tried to hoist himself onto his elbows but slumped with a moan, and rolled onto his side. It was his cheek that bled. The hero had avoided the nose, probably to make sure the old man lived, but I have little doubt he cracked Faust’s cheekbone. Not even Kosala rose to help, and the Headmaster soothed his own bodyguards with gentle Brillist German. The King of Spain ordered some ice.

“If we’re all here, let’s start.” Bryar Kosala had the least qualm about showing her impatience. “Unless Joyce is intending to burst in and surprise us all, but this summons had better not be Joyce’s doing. With the Olympics in four days, none of us can waste time on frills and tea cakes.”

“I made very certain my fiancée is ignorant of this meeting,” Spain reassured her—reassured us all. “As I was asked to.”

“Asked to?” Ancelet took a fast breath, fearful, which made me fearful. “You didn’t call us, then? Who did?” The Humanist President looked from seat to seat, to Kosala, Dominic, still-crimson MASON, back to Spain.

“No one!” Headmaster Faust pronounced with glee. “You didn’t… you didn’t…”—he pointed to each in turn, peering at telltale faces—“you didn’t… I didn’t…”

Softness brushed me from behind, and warmth, and pressed me gently to the floor. It was the black lion, playful, not like a kitten’s play but like a mature beast’s that knows the force behind its claws and chooses not to use them. It forced me to the ground and sat upon me, pinned me, its legs on either side of me so it could keep just enough of its weight off to spare me pain, while its heavy belly trapped me gently, like an overflowing blanket filled with lead.

“We summoned you.” A Utopian stepped forward.

They all stepped forward, a ring of strange worlds orbiting the ring of chairs. Had there always been so many of them? Five, six, I counted, seven, craning my neck as the lion held me pinned.

“Why?” Faust asked fastest.

MASON’s face as he took his seat showed that he too did not know.