Chapter 7
The Theory Proved True
The laptop screen went dark all of a sudden as Anemo ended the call, leaving behind the echo of Fleur's promise. Simoon reached into his linen shirt pocket, his fingers trembling slightly with emotion. He pulled out his phone, a rugged model perfect for archaeological dig sites, and unlocked the screen to open the GPS tracking application.
"Let's see where poor Remi ended up," the professor muttered, zooming into the digital map of the Zamalek district.
Anemo took a step back, preparing his backpack for a race against time through the streets of Cairo. However, on the phone screen, the map showed neither El-Andaluz Park nor the banks of the Nile. The blue circle, indicating their position inside the apartment, overlapped perfectly, millimeter by millimeter, with the blinking red dot.
Simoon blinked rapidly. He shook the phone, thinking the app had frozen. The red dot remained motionless, right in the center of the screen.
"It can't be... it's a calibration error," the professor said, looking up at his son. "The app says she's... here. Right here!"
At that exact second, from the building's corridor, right behind the massive front door that Inspector Frost had slammed just moments earlier, a faint sound was heard. A prolonged, extremely thin meow, yet heavy with a deep, utterly feminine reproach.
Anemo and Simoon froze. Their gazes shifted in unison from the phone screen to the doorknob.
"I don't believe it..." Anemo whispered.
The professor took two large steps, bypassed the cedarwood table, and grabbed the door handle, pulling it wide open against the wall. In the very next second, he took a few steps back without saying a word, remaining silent for a good few dozen seconds.
"Father? Did something happen? Are you OK?"
In two strides, Anemo was standing right beside the professor in front of the open door. On the threshold, alongside the white cat they had been searching for, stood a woman Simoon seemed to know, though meeting her here was entirely unexpected.
"Shahrazad?" the professor asked, after recovering a shred of his composure. "How is it that Remi is with you?"
On the jute doormat outside the apartment, well-behaved, exhausted, but with her Angora fur still looking impeccable, Remi seemed to be reprimanding them with her piercing, electrifying blue eyes.
"Aren't you going to invite me in, Simoon?" the woman asked. "You know, we came by once before this morning, but no one was home."
"We... we went to the police," the professor stammered, gesturing with a wide sweep of his arm for them to come inside.
Remi went straight to the sofa. She gave Anemo a searching look, as if saying: "Come on already, put your hand on the collar so we can communicate!"
"It's been a long time, Professor!" Shahrazad began the conversation. "Must be about twelve years? This past spring, I had planned to pay you a visit, but something... unforeseen came up."
"This past spring, you say? I think it was in May—yes, May was the last time I was here. Why did you want to see me?"
"To tell you that my theory proved to be true, and to ask for your help, but..."
With Anemo by her side, Remi could finally share the entire experience she had gone through overnight. She told him about the encounter with the cats beneath the balcony, about the twin children, about the strange condition Demir found himself in, and about the out-of-body experience that had projected her directly into the distant past of ancient Egypt.
"The children need my help," Remi concluded. "We must repair the Mirror of Time and bring the child back."
Anemo swallowed hard.
"Are you saying that this Collar of the Two Skies was meant for you from the very beginning? This is pure madness! It's as if ever since the summer solstice, we've stepped into another dimension. A fantasy one! My fur babies don't just talk, they are plotting world affairs, you turned into a cat, the collar, the fountain mirror, portals! Seriously? Shouldn't I go see a psychologist, a psychiatrist... or something?"
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