We had maybe an hour, two at the most, before the sun showed her face. If we weren’t long gone before then, I would scream bloody murder at Isadora, damn the consequences. I stared across the Mediterranean, the sea disquieted and uneasy, as if knowing she was about to be disturbed. Along the water’s edge were a slew of rickety boats, tied off at a narrow dock that went out ten or fifteen feet. Beyond, the outline of Pharos Island rose high above the surface, the waves slapping against every sharp edge. The base of Alexandria’s lighthouse still stood on the eastern side, even after millennia, an impressive sight despite the loss of the upper structure that had once guided ships by a flame in the night.
“How tall was it?” Inez asked as we walked away from the driver, her attention ensnared by the ancient wonder.
“Mamá’s notes said it would have stood at least forty stories high.” Isadora shook her head, marveling. “Imagine the building of it! The sweat and toil of every worker.”
“Only for an earthquake to send most of it into the sea below,” I said dourly. “Nothing beautiful lasts.”
“Your cynicism is showing again,” Inez murmured.
“I wasn’t trying to hide it,” I muttered back. Then in a louder voice, I said, “All right, we’ve seen the lighthouse. Let’s go back to the hotel and have tea, coffee, and a decent meal.”
A part of me couldn’t believe what I was saying. If Lourdes truly believed Cleopatra’s Chrysopoeia was hidden in the base of the lighthouse, I ought to explore every inch. But my gut clenched tight, anticipation making my blood thrum in my veins, clamoring for attention. My body was on high alert—enemy-beyond-the-hill high alert.
Something was wrong.
Oraboutto be wrong.
If I learned anything from my time in the militia, it was to trust my gut. And right then, it was telling me to take Inez far from this place.To ready my rifle and keep a finger on the trigger. I itched for the knife I always carried in my boot, but that deplorable bastard Sterling had stolen it from me.
“We just got here,” Inez said. “I’m not turning back now. Mamá might be inside, or if she’s not here, she might have left a clue behind. I think we ought to go and explore. Unless you have a better idea on how to find her?”
I folded my arms, tension making my jaw lock. “It’s safer to go by water the rest of the way. But it would mean stealing a rowboat.”
“It’s not that far,” Isadora said, scrunching her pointed nose. “A pity we didn’t bring a change of clothes. We might get wet.”
I didn’t bother replying to that nonsense.
Inez pointed to the row of fishing boats. “Let’s borrow one of those. No stealing required. We’ll return it once we’re finished, and I can leave some coins inside, too.”
Isadora was already walking to the dock in quick, determined strides, her manner confident and sure, an illusion for the chaos rioting underneath. She reminded me of a Greek tragedy, every character marching toward their doom, wreaking havoc and sowing discord as they went, a deranged pixie sprinkling their destructive energy around onto unsuspecting innocents.
“I still don’t trust her,” I said with narrowed eyes at said deranged pixie.
“You have made that more than clear,” Inez said tiredly. Deep shadows under her eyes belied her exhaustion. When had she had a full night of sleep? When had I? I couldn’t remember. “But she’s done nothing but help me,” she said. “You’re welcome to stay behind.”
“The hell I will,” I said. “And don’t think I didn’t notice how you used my words against me.”
“I was counting on it,” she said sweetly.
I trailed after her, trying to ignore her hips swaying as she walked, the way her curls danced in the briny air. Isadora had untied the rope of one of the boats by the time we joined her on the dock. I took over the task, relieved to see oars poking out from under the bench. I helped Inez into the boat, considered pushing Isadora into the sea but instead ignored heras she gracefully stepped aboard. She remained upright, knees bent in sync with the water’s sway.
“Will you do the honors, or are you going to havemerow us over to the island?” Isadora asked, the ice in her voice pronounced.
“I can help,” Inez protested.
I took the oars and dipped them into the water. This was such a bad idea. I never should have gone along with it. It would have been better if I had come on my own. “Let’s just bloody get this over with.”
Inez rummaged through her bag of supplies and handed Isadora a candle and then found an extra for herself. She lit both and they held the lights high, using their free hands to cup the flames and keep them from flickering out from the breeze. Inez couldn’t quite manage it, and the fire went out when the wind blew across the boat.
She sighed. “I miss the sandal.”
I laughed.
Inez glanced at me, startled, her hazel eyes warm and amused. She hadn’t looked at me like that in what felt like years. She quickly averted her gaze, and I yanked my attention off her and toward the lighthouse where it belonged.
We approached the island, and I noted the small bay, taking care to maneuver the boat in that direction. When we were close enough, I jumped out, the water cool against my skin, and guided the boat up the bank. Inez scrambled over the rail, refusing my help, slipping and windmilling her arms to keep from falling face-first into the water. Isadora nimbly leapt over, landing neatly with a minimal splash, and helped Inez up the shore. I put the oars away, and we trekked the steep incline up to the base of the lighthouse.
The craggy rocks pierced my shoes, and for the last stretch, I had to help both of them navigate the path. The ancient building came into view as the dark sky lightened into a navy blue. It was my favorite time of day, the moment right before dawn broke.
