The Perilous Sea by Sherry Thomas

will not be able to. I might be able to weaken the circle, but that could simply mean you are killed a bit more slowly if you try to breach it.”
    In the darkness there was only the sound of her rapid breaths. He called for light. A blue luminescence suffused the length of the tunnel. She sat with her wrists on her knees, her face shadowed.
    â€œIt is too early for despair,” he said. “We have hardly exhausted all the options.”
    Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “You know more about blood magic than I do. What do you suggest?”
    â€œFirst I want to see whether you are related to the person who set the blood circle. It would help if that person has no claim of kinship on you.” 7
    She extracted a drop of blood and sent it floating toward the blood circle. Whereas his blood had been immediately absorbed by blood circle, the tiny floating sphere of her blood bounced off like a pebble striking a tree trunk.
    That he was related to the one who had set up the blood circle and she not at all raised uncomfortable questions. But he did not bother to ponder those questions—it was not as if he was unaware of the possibility that they had wished each other harm before the memory spells had taken away their pasts.
    â€œBy the privilege of kinship,” he said in Latin, and offered another drop of his own blood. “I ask that the blood circle harm not one who matters to me.”
    It was standard language, yet it felt strangely true: the girl mattered to him.
    â€œThat should have reduced the potency of the blood circle somewhat. I can put you under a time freeze, which should further protect you. Is there anything you can do to boost your chances of survival? Any remedies that can counteract traumatic injuries brought on by the mage arts?”
    She ran her fingers over the top of satchel, then her expression brightened. “I have panacea in here.”
    His eyes widened—panacea was extraordinarily difficult to come by. “Take a triple dose.”
    She extracted a vial, counted out three small granules, and swallowed them. “So now that you have weakened the blood circle, you put me under a time freeze, and shove me past?”
    â€œI wish it were that simple. Should you survive, you would still be in critical condition. And I cannot bore through rock, so—”
    A loud crack, like a boulder splitting in two. They looked up: the ceiling of the tunnel was fracturing. When she had unknowingly tried to cross the blood circle, she must have signaled her precise position.
    And now Atlantis had found her.
    â€œGrab everything,” he shouted, lunging toward her.
    He took her by the arm and vaulted just as the top of the tunnel pulverized.

CHAPTER 10
    England
    SOMETHING WAS WRONG, IOLANTHE WAS certain of it, the sense of foreboding a hard weight upon her chest.
    But what was wrong?
    On the solid, four-poster bed in Kashkari’s room, Wintervale snored softly. Kashkari sat in a chair by the bed, a finger sandwich from the tea tray Iolanthe had asked for in hand, reading a novel titled Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus . He had given a book called Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea to Iolanthe, but she had set it down after the first few lines about a “mysterious and puzzling” phenomenon at sea.
    She moved about the room, examining the densely patterned pewter-on-blue wallpaper, straightening the knickknacks on the mantel, and tucking the duvet more securely around Wintervale’s feet. His forehead was damp but cool. His eyelids fluttered at her touch, but he slept on.
    It always surprised her that Wintervale was not taller than the prince—he seemed to take up so much more room: he never stood in a doorway but with both arms over his head, his hands on the lintel; his speech was always accompanied by a great deal of animated gesticulating; and no matter how much Mrs. Dawlish complained, he continued to slide down banisters and land with huge