"Small steps," said Antonius, pulling him up. "I bought spare clothes, as well as food."

  "Did I attack you?"

  "Nothing I couldn't handle."

  "My apologies."

  "Don't be. You are improving. This idea of yours, that you must control Khun, perhaps that's part of your problem."

  "I have to control Khun. How can I go home if I don't? I will not risk Octavia or the children. The council can arrest her if Lucy and I are out of control. You know that."

  Antonius tossed Drusus a shirt. "The council is the least of your worries." He fit the two parts of his broken sword together. "Damn. There's no repairing this. Time for you to consider the idea you and Khun are the same now."

  "I will never accept that."

  Antonius packed the broken pieces of his sword into a long bag, and then opened the basket of food. "The sooner you do, the sooner you can make up for the past and get on with the future." He peeled an orange.

  "I don't have to make up for Khun's past."

  "It's your past now. Sometimes you have to accept things you don't like."

  Drusus pursed his lips. "Is this really about me? Or is it about you?"

  Antonius swore under his breath. "You came to me, remember?"

  "I meant what you said about accepting things you don't like."

  "Fine," said Antonius. "I will review my circumstances yet again if it will help you move forward. Point: I did not run away from my problems. I was exiled."

  Drusus pulled the shirt over his head. "You know Agamemnon is gone—"

  "There is nothing you need to tell me about the Galt family." Antonius' voice was mild, but his eyes flashed electric.

  "Why couldn't you and Helen—?"

  "Because our families made decisions for us, and because you mistake me for someone who still wants what I wanted when I was a boy."

  "Wouldn't you go back if you could?"

  "I would." Antonius chucked the orange to the ground. "There is no going back. You never step in the same river twice. I have regrets. You can go back, however. You've done nothing irreparable yet."

  "It's not right," said Drusus. "What happened to you and Helen is not right."

  "You should have spoken up more, then." His words were clipped.

  "The curse of being the youngest. No one listened to me."

  Antonius blew out a breath. "My apologies. It was hardly your fault. Listen," he said, his eyes becoming soft, "Until you set your own relationship in order, I refuse to hear a word of counsel about my former entanglements. You're facing your fear well, although I would feel better if we could ascertain why you transform involuntarily in the first place." He closed the basket. "I've lost my appetite. Shall we head home?"

  Drusus and Antonius gathered bags and baskets and flew through the muggy air toward the sparkling ocean, the sun warm on Drusus' neck. Below them, ships sailed into the harbor like clouds gliding across the sky. On a flight like this one, the weather placid, he felt more himself. He would conquer this, he would return to Octavia, he would save Lucy.

  Antonius spoke, breaking into his improving humor. "I have a confession to make. We must meet the Oswald. We have visitors today."

  Who would visit them here? One of Antonius' former crew? "Anyone I know?"

  "Octavia."

  The glow he felt seconds before evaporated. "I beg your pardon?"

  Antonius began his descent. "I should be clearer. Octavia Klaereon. Your wife. I wrote her."

  Drusus' temper shifted. "Why would you do that, damn you? I'm not ready. You have no idea what you've done."

  "Your histrionics do you no credit. She's been desperately worried about you. I could hardly receive a letter from your wife and pretend I knew nothing. Doing so would demolish several carefully architected layers of honor I have imposed upon myself. Since you've been here, you've worked hard at controlling Khun. Today was an excellent test of how far you've come. If you must believe so, I did it for purely selfish reasons. I am very tired of your whining, and of you attempting to champion my personal problems."

  "I told you I was a danger to her, to all of them."

  "Your fear is irrationally centered around returning home. You can meet her in this environment, and going home is not required."

  They landed on the docks near the ship. "What if—?" Drusus lowered his voice. "What if Khun tries to—?"

  "Octavia is hardly a damsel in distress. Have you forgotten she is a family head and a magician in her own right? I would not have told her to come if I thought you posed any danger to her. You know I have to sail soon and I can't nursemaid you forever. Now talk to her. She's waiting for you. When you want, come back to the house."

  Drusus glanced at the railing of the ship. He thought he saw someone who looked like Octavia, but he wasn't certain. "I can't."

  "You must. It would be more embarrassing for you if I had to retrieve her and explain why you were hiding on top of the rock."

  Antonius waved at the figure. Yes, it was Octavia. Drusus swallowed. "If anything happens—"

  "Yes, I know. I will be at fault, and you will rip me limb from limb. We will compromise. Do you want me to hover?"

  "Yes, damn it, yes. That way, if anything happens, you can stop it."

  People bustled, loading and unloading supplies, passengers disembarking, families meeting loved ones. Octavia, dressed in a gray traveling suit and black bonnet, came down the gangplank.

  "I see my letter found you," said Antonius.

  "It did. I've never had a letter fly to me before." Octavia stepped toward them.

  "I've gotten used to your delivery method as well." Antonius stepped back. "Drusus prefers to talk here, privacy notwithstanding." He looked pointedly at Drusus. "I'll be over here. If you need me. Which you do not."

  Octavia stepped closer to Drusus, who fought to stand his ground. The fear was not located only in Hathersage. He ground his teeth.

  "You left without telling me," she said. She stepped forward.

  "I had to leave. I…Lucy…she…" He stepped away.

  "She's fine, Drusus. Lucy was wrong to send you away." Octavia stood still.

  Drusus' forehead was damp with the sun and sweat. "No, she wasn't. I hurt her. I couldn't risk you or the children."

  "You wouldn't harm me or the children." Octavia reached out to touch his cheek.

  "And if you're wrong?" He forced the words out. Drusus grabbed her hand to stop it.

  "I'm not wrong."

  Drusus covered her hand with his. "You are impossible. You have no regard for your own safety."

  "Mostly, because I don't believe you are a danger. I promise you, if you break my heart, I may well be done with men and Egyptian gods. I will move on to another pantheon entirely."

  "This is not funny, Octavia."

  "I need you to come home. Lucy is being influenced by Ra, and I need all the allies I can get.”

  Memory tickled in the back of his mind. There was something he needed to remember. "Did Carlo tell you he thinks I am wrong in my head?"

  "He did not say that. He does believe you and Khun are—"

  "—the same. Antonius believes it too. I need to know for certain before I return, to control my violence, whether it's his or mine. For the sake of your safety, as well as for the sake of the Klaereons' standing with the council."

  Octavia brushed her lips against his. "I have missed you, desperately."

  He ached for her. "You cannot trust me."

  "You needn't keep repeating that," she said softly. "We've established your unworthiness. How can I give you confidence about how much I believe I am safe with you?"

  He wanted her. Khun wanted her. Drusus covered her mouth with his own. The world collapsed into the background as he breathed her in. They pulled apart reluctantly. "You've left Lucy alone while she's fighting Ra?" he said.

  "Not exactly. Please Drusus, come home with me. I have an idea about how to help you, if you let me. Is there some place we can go?"

  "Yes." He kissed her again, deeply. "Wait." He stepped back. "No. We can't do this."

  Octavia smirked. "It's not what you think. I need to set up a circle."

  "Magic," said Drusus. "You could use magic to control Kh—I mean me."

  "Yes," said Octavia. "If you are so uncertain about Khun, let me manage him." Octavia motioned behind Drusus. Drusus remembered Antonius, as well as the rest of the world watching. He straightened.

  Antonius pulled himself away from a conversation. "Have you convinced him to return with you? From over there, it looked as though you might have."

  "Have I?" Octavia asked.

  The wind shifted, and Antonius and Drusus tilted their heads toward the sun together. "That feels like—" Drusus began.

  "—our magic," said Antonius. "Yes."

  Vergilius, Lord Claudian, and head of the council of magical families drifted down toward them, three other men as his passengers in flight.

  "Did you know he was coming?" Drusus asked Antonius. "Did he write a letter as well?"

  "I am as surprised as you are," said Antonius. "Octavia?"

  Octavia shook her head. "I know nothing about this."

  Antonius' mouth thinned into a straight line, his face bland and passive, as Vergilius touched down. The other men could have been from any of the families, but they were wearing nondescript, dark clothing.

  Drusus moved toward his older brother. "Would it be too much to assume you are here to visit?"

  Antonius' version was terser. "What are you doing here?"

  "Nothing to do with you," said Vergilius. "I've come for you, Octavia."

  Octavia's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

  "New evidence has come to light. The council is re-opening the investigation into your father's death."

  "What evidence?" Drusus asked.

  "Several reliable witnesses say your own testimony," said Vergilius. "In a pub one night, you suggested Octavia had premeditated her father's murder before her possession."

  Had he said something like that, during a time his memories were not his own?

  "Obviously, that is a lie," said Antonius.

  "Yet, Mr. Galt's servant and several patrons at The George claim they heard you say it."

  "I didn't," said Drusus. Had he? When had he? He wouldn't know that. But Khun would know that.

  "One of the families is most insistent we look into the matter," Vergilius continued.

  "The Galt family," said Octavia. "I am right, yes?"

  "I am afraid so," said Vergilius.

  "This is obviously Galt's revenge for Lucy's broken engagement," said Octavia.

  "Wait," said Drusus. "What?"

  "Carlo and Lucy married, and Atreus—" Octavia began.

  "Vergilius," said Antonius, "You know this is political manipulation, pure and simple."

  "Married?" said Drusus.

  "The council is not so easily manipulated," said Vergilius. "You have been away for some time, Antonius, and you were never one to understand the importance of subtlety. This matter needs to be laid to rest for the good of Drusus and Octavia's future. If she premeditated her father's death, her judgment is brought into questions concerning her ability to control certain dangerous aspects of her family's magic."

  Octavia's hand twisted in her skirts. "I am willing to let you do what you need to do, Vergilius, as long as you give me a chance to see Drusus alone."

  "I have been instructed to bring you to the council and to an examination immediately. You will do no magic until after a thorough examination."

  "You are the head of the magical council," said Antonius. "You have the power to choose what you act on. Why would you do this?"

  "We vote as a council, Antonius. It's not as simple as you say."

  "He needs her help. She can help him control—"

  "Do not say anything further," said Vergilius. "If you do, you will make things worse for them both, I can promise you that."

  "You do not understand the nature of Drusus' situation." Small crackles of electricity sparked in the air around Antonius.

  "I can assure you I do. I do not wish his problem to complicate matters further, given that Octavia must be responsible for his problem in the eyes of the council."

  "You aren't concerned for them. You are concerned for your own reputation."

  The wind blustered around Vergilius, the sky graying. "I understand why you think ill of me, but I am not acting with the council against you."

  "You can't take her. I won't let you."

  "There is nothing you can do about it," said Vergilius. "You'd best go about your business. Don't you have a ship to catch?"

  "You seem to misunderstand what I am saying. You are denied permission."

  Lightning crackled at their feet, its residual sparking around Drusus' fingers. "Enough, both of you. Octavia, do you trust Vergilius in this matter?"

  "Yes," said Octavia.

  "Foolish," said Antonius.

  Drusus pulled her close. "Go with him then."

  "Drusus, if you hope to free your wife, you had best return as quickly as possible and help prove she is innocent of this claim."

  Drusus nodded. Fear flowed over him, but the luxury of paying it any attention had disappeared. "She and I will return together."

  "Octavia must be isolated during the inquiry. She is deemed unstable and unsafe, and she could use you as a weapon."

  Drusus knew Vergilius meant Khun. "I won't let you take her," said Drusus. "Not like this."

  "Finally," said Antonius. "He wakes up."

  "No," said Octavia. "Don't do anything. Go home, Drusus. I know you are afraid, but you must go home. You must tell Lucy, Carlo, the children. Lucy made you afraid. She can stop this."

  Drusus kissed her forehead. "We'll puzzle all of this out," he said softly. "All of it."

  "Are you afraid?" she whispered.

  "I am petrified," he whispered back. "But I won't fail you."

  "Be careful around Lucy."

  "I can't help but do that."

  The four men surrounded Octavia, and they took to the air.

  "I don't trust Vergilius," said Antonius.

  "I do." Drusus watched the group become a small dot as they moved closer to the sun. "It's Atreus Galt I don't trust."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Desert Outside of Alexandria, May, 1842

  Carlo breathed in the baked air of the desert outside of Alexandria. He was much better prepared to be in the desert this time around. Last time, he had come under less than ideal conditions. Balthazar, the efrit who was the Solomon Scroll's mystical guardian, had transported Drusus and Carlo out of the Italian countryside, after a battle in the swamp with a possessed Octavia. Dark clothes, covered in mud, were not ideal garb for the desert.

  This time, Carlo dressed in light reflective clothing. Like many desert travelers, Carlo traveled at night and camped in the worst heat of the day. He stumbled over scrabble and sand. Since he was approaching the temple from a different angle than before, Carlo was grateful he didn't have to climb over a loose rock wadi once again. He mounted the final dune overlooking Erasmus' temple, bleached by the grinding desert sand, reflecting the sun bright enough to hurt Carlo's eyes. He shielded them momentarily, needing more protection than his hat allowed, until his eyes adjusted to the glare. Carlo cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted. "Hello!"

  Balthazar emerged from underneath the temple, climbing up the ramp, which led to the honeycomb of tunnels below. Today, Balthazar was more man than efrit, wearing a light galabeyah, which hung down to his ankles and a small round hat to cover his bald head. His skin was a burnished red and he carried a massive spear, round as a tree and taller than Balthazar himself, impressive. Sand dust muted his clothes and skin.

  "Welcome." Balthazar's deep voice carried.

  "You never visit me," said Carlo, "so I have to come to you."

  "No doubt for your own gain," said Balthazar.

  "No doubt," said Carlo. He and Balthazar had gotten past the awkward period when they'd first met, when he wanted to kill Carlo because he was Isis's grandson. Carlo shrugged his pack off his shoulders. "With your permission, I want to camp nearby."

  "I would suggest in the temple rather than out. I will build a fire. Outside. I will cook."

  "Don't go to any trouble."

  Balthazar smirked. "I have some skills in that arena, and seldom use them."

  "Thank you, then."

  Carlo picked up the backpack again. Did Balthazar get lonely? He'd had a lot of practice being alone, waiting for hundreds of years for Erasmus to take up the agreement in the Solomon Scroll. Carlo wondered what was in the arrangement for Balthazar, or if, as the efrit professed, it was merely his duty.

  The first room which branched off the tunnel was a decaying chamber full of the bones of countless fortune hunters who had come to seek the Solomon Scroll over the centuries. Carlo was not squeamish, but he found the idea of camping in the former scroll chamber depressing, so he set up a camp cot in a smaller stone alcove two doors down. By the time he settled himself and went outside, the desert was cooling. Evenings in the desert were cold. Soon the goddess of night, Nuit, would be above them. Some things Carlo had seen he wished he could unsee, When Nuit, shaped like a woman, had climbed out of the blank space above him, he was sure he'd lost years of his life.

  Balthazar sat cross-legged in front of a fire pit. A goat roasted over a spit, sizzling, and a tray of mezza, a variety of spreads and flat breads, sat on a platter nearby. Carlo's stomach growled. He had been eating dried figs and meat for some time. "You can cook," said Carlo.

  "Do you think someone comes and cooks for me? I have sped things along for you." Balthazar banked the fire with a gesture of a glowing hand. "If you had informed me you were coming, I would have prepared better."

  Carlo lowered to the ground. "For the middle of nowhere, this is an impressive meal. Thank you."

  The flames flared. "You will tell me why you have come."

  "I'm looking for a way into the Golden City. Here, we are neither in the Abyss or the world of men, but you can access either one. Am I right?"

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26