“Things are getting serious,” I said as I pushed the pinecones and small branches into a neat pile. “Emily told me she and Marcellious plan to marry.”
Roman’s eyebrows lifted. “Really? Do you think my brother has turned the corner and that his dark ways are behind him?”
I settled on the furs cross-legged and patted the area next to me. “Let’s hope so.”
Roman said, “One moment. I’m preparing our fire for the night. It’s getting cold, and I want my sweethearts to be warm.”
He flashed me a smile that reached inside me and made me feel safe and content—at least for a moment.
Once the fire blazed around the stones, Roman sat beside me and guided me down to a reclining position. He lay on his side next to me and stroked my belly.
He’d been doing that a lot lately, marveling over the life we had created.
Although I wish the circumstances could have been different, I had no doubt Roman would make an excellent father.
While we lay together, side by side, we mused about our journey since getting married two months ago. Every time we encountered another person, another tribe, an outpost, or a town, we’d inquire as to whether anyone knew of the sun and moon daggers or heard of John James. So far, all we’d discovered were dead ends.
“I’m beginning to think we’ll never find the journal, John James, or any clues to help us find the sun and the moon knives,” I said, stroking Roman’s arm.
“Don’t give up hope, my beloved,” he said, tracing circles on my belly through the deerskin covering my body.
“I’m trying not to.” I rolled onto my back and folded my arms beneath my head. I stared at the coils of smoke disappearing out the top of the teepee. “But I’m sure Balthazar is out there, hunting us. Just because we haven’t seen him doesn’t mean he isn’t watching us. He’s going to appear when we least expect it.”
A shiver rocked through me.
“Expecting it or not,” Roman said, propping his head on his hand as he faced me, “we’ll be ready.”
“Will we?” I let out a sigh. “I’ve been reading and re-reading Philip’s journals. There are no clues we haven’t followed, and still, we have nothing to show.”
“We mustn’t give up.” Roman stroked my cheek with his fingertips. “Stop worrying.”
Footsteps approached the teepee, followed by a soft scratching on our door flap.
“Are you two decent? I have news,” Marcellious said.
“News?” I popped upright. “Come in.”
Marcellious entered.
Roman said, “The lovebird returns to us from his tree. Haven’t seen much of you lately.”
Marcellious scoffed and ignored him. “A scout just arrived with some interesting news. Word of your quest for answers has spread, and the scout followed us. He says he has knowledge of the sun and moon daggers.”
“You’re kidding! Really?”
“Sure, Olivia, I’m kidding. I came over to tell you a lie.” Marcellious sneered and crossed his arms over his chest.
“At least being in love hasn’t changed your attitude,” I said. “You can still be an asshole.”
“I retain the right to be whatever I need to be,” Marcellious said. “So, do you want the news or not?”
“Of course! Tell us!”
“He said a friend of a neighboring tribe knows of a man in the nearest town who trades in exotic merchandise.”
“And he’s got the knives?” I practically vibrated with excitement.
“Calm down. No, he doesn’t have them. The storekeeper says they are in Italy,” Marcellious said. “Or, at least, that’s where they were in 1580 A.D., according to books and old documents.”
