Whit leaned forward, peering at me intently. “I said fine, Olivera. We’ll go to the lighthouse, even if it falls on top of our heads.”
“Oh,” I said, stymied.
“A rousing speech,” Isadora said dryly.
“You’re welcome to stay behind,” Whit said. “Or better yet, return to Cairo.”
Isadora shook her head. “I’m not leaving my sister.”
I gave her a watery smile. “Thank you.”
Whit rolled his eyes and said, “Christ.”
The glare that he gave her could have leveled a small town, buildings, trees, nothing would have survived. But it wasn’t all anger… not quite. If I didn’t know better, I would have named his emotion something else entirely.
It looked a lot like jealousy.
But that was impossible. The idea that he was jealous about my relationship with my sister was ludicrous.
Wasn’t it?
WHIT
Once again, my wife woke me up in the middle of night. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and waited for them to adjust to the darkness. “What is it?” I whispered.
“I’ve had another vision,” she whispered back.
“Inez,” I said. “Could you be having dreams?”
She was kneeling next to my cot, and at last her features came into shape, enough for me to see that she was scowling. “I couldn’t sleep, and I have this habit sometimes of twisting the ring around my finger, and so I was thinking about Cleopatra, and then the next second I was in one of her memories. Do you want to hear about it or not?”
I gestured for her to continue.
“She was at her worktable,” Inez began. “And dressed curiously. Usually, I see her in these beautiful outfits, made of expensive fabric. On her feet are bejeweled sandals, and her hair is always adorned by ribbon and pearls. But this time she was in a plain, simple robe—dark in color and with a hood. Her shoes were made of serviceable leather. Sturdy, as if she was expecting to travel a long distance.”
“What was she doing at the table?”
“She had the alchemical sheet in front of her,” Inez said in her soft voice.
I was suddenly extremely awake. “Was she turning lead into gold?”
Inez shook her head. “But she had all manner of ingredients before her, and she was cutting up roots and mixing various liquids that had a shimmer to them. And she was saying something as she worked.”
“She was creating a spell,” I said.
“I believe so. I think to protect the alchemical sheet.”
“It’s possible,” I said. “It’s what I would do if I had her particular skill set. Her brother might have known about it—after all, he was also related to the famous alchemist. Perhaps Cleopatra felt it necessary to take action against him acquiring it. Was that all?”
Again, she shook her head. “No. When she was done, she spilled water all over it.”
“What?”
“Shhh!” Inez hissed. “You’ll wake Isadora.”
My pulse roared in my ears. If that sheet was ruined, I might as well be also. “Explain.”
“The ink didn’t run; the paper didn’t even get wet,” she said. “Cleopatra had made the Chrysopoeiawaterproof.”
