Chapter 8: Tricks or Not?
The Zamalek apartment had suddenly become the hub of a wild, international communications network that was completely out of control. The air conditioner kept gasping helplessly over the cedarwood table, where phone screens and laptops were blaring with loud rings, all clashing together in a total mess.
Anemo, holding his laptop in his arms with his mobile phone in one hand, had finally managed to reconnect the FaceTime call with the House of the Winds. On the screen, Fleur’s face appeared once more, looking a bit messy as usual. Next to her was Eol, who was excitedly tapping away on the mobile phone that Remi had left behind in Ireland.
"Anemo! Professor! Can you hear me?" Fleur shouted from the screen, her voice echoing loudly through the Cairo living room. "I’ve checked the remote sensors! Eol says the magic signal from Zamalek has gone completely off the charts! Where is Miss Remi? Have you found her?"
At that exact same second, Professor Simoon, with his phone glued to his ear, was shouting from the other end of the table, trying to drown out the noise from the FaceTime call. He was calling Inspector Frost, who was out putting up missing posters with Margo. Apparently, the Inspector was doing a great job; he had started his task with an unbelievable amount of energy and now it seemed like he just didn't want to stop.
"Daniel! Daniel, stop, my good man! There's no need to put up posters anymore! The cat has turned up!..."
"What do you mean, tricks? There are no tricks this time, just get back to the apartment and see for yourself!"
Fleur stared at her screen, totally confused. Somehow, the Professor’s voice was much louder than Anemo’s, and she couldn't make out much from all the racket.
"Anemo, Mr. Anemo, speak up and slow down, please! I can't understand a thing. Have you found Remi?"
Anemo nodded his head and, without any further explanation, scooped Remi up in his arms and set her right on the table in front of the camera. Then he gave a big thumbs-up, while the Professor’s voice kept getting louder and angrier by the second.
"Mr. Frost! Daniel Frost! Can't you understand that this isn't a trick? Remi—I mean, the white cat—is right here, right now! We rushed off to... On my word, man!"
"Why is the Professor shouting like that, Mr. Anemo? What is the matter with Trench?"
"...Can't you hear me? Never mind, we'll talk later! Don't forget to get the travel documents ready for the journey back! The next portal is right here, at the Cats' Cave... I'll get Eol to text you!"
Fleur ended the call, and at last, it felt a little bit quieter in the room.
In the middle of all this modern-day confusion, with everyone talking at once, police theories overlapping with magic sensor alerts from Ireland, a patch of perfect calm had settled on the old sofa.
Shehrazad sat up straight, her posture neat and graceful, giving off an air of dignity that completely ignored all the twenty-first-century technology around her. She didn't seem bothered by the noise at all; in fact, she watched the phones with a gentle, amused smile. Every now and then, she leaned down toward Remi, who was sitting like royalty next to her on the velvet cushion, to whisper a question or say a few words.
Simoon looked exhausted after all the chaos of the early morning, the stress of losing Remi, and now this row with Trench. He pulled his mobile phone away from his ear for a few seconds and turned to Anemo.
"What on earth were we thinking when we decided to trust Frost with our secret? If we had just waited another quarter of an hour this morning before heading to the police station, none of this would be happening..."
Daniel Frost's breathless and thoroughly annoyed voice could still be heard from the phone’s speaker, mixed with the metallic echo of the stairwell:
"Professor, from a professional point of view, I cannot just stop an investigation simply because you have a hunch! I gathered evidence in Clonee, I have reports to fill out, and now you're telling me to..."
"It’s not a hunch, Trench!" Anemo yelled over his father’s shoulder. "The cat is here! She walked right through the door! Come back!"
Shehrazad, who was waiting patiently to tell the Professor and Anemo exactly how the Mirror of Time could be mended and her dear grandson saved, leaned in close to the Professor and whispered in his ear:
"This gentleman you are speaking to, Daniel Frost, must not be part of our future plans in any way. With a man like him around, no portal will ever open, and no mirror will be mended. I beg you, as far as he is concerned, I must only be the lady from the neighborhood who found the white cat."
Shehrazad leaned back gently against the velvet cushion of the sofa, returning to that quiet, ordinary look she had forced herself to wear for the last twelve years. Her golden-brown eyes fixed on Remi once more with a secret understanding.
Simoon and Anemo exchanged a quick, knowing glance. The game had to be played exactly the way she had asked, with no unnecessary complications.
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