“She was concerned—and rightfully so—about your expedition to the Temple of Seti the First. We assigned Bes to the museum in Cairo eighteen months ago to protect the artifacts there from being pilfered by the Third Reich, and she thought you could use the assistance. Or, at the very least, have someone looking out for you when she couldn’t be there.”
I suppose that makes sense.
“The only way your nonna was going to allow someone from the order to get near you,” he continues, “was if she knew them. And her faith in me lent itself to my nephew.”
Misplaced faith, but sure.
Bes, I understand. But Cec?
I point to my other side. “What about Cec? He can barely see his own hands in front of his face. Not sure what the reasoning was there.”
Cec grunts. “Aye. One might think you didn’t like me very much, Hawkins.” Yet there’s no heart behind his complaint.
“We both know that’s not true,” I tell him flippantly, waiting for his father’s answer.
“We sent Cecilio to ensure you made it here, to give the two of you a direct line to the order and access to our resources. Bes…” His attention deviates over my left shoulder again. “We hadn’t seen him here in years. He was always asking for his next assignment immediately after finishing his old one, presumedly so he wouldn’t have to come back here. To be honest, he was too unpredictable to be left to such an important task on his own, and he trusts no one more than my son.”
“Appreciate your confidence in me,” Bes mutters.
I have the urge to take his hand in mine—he’s learning about his true part in all this for the first time, and it must sting.
“Hold on.” I hold up a finger, struggling to catch up to the maelstrom of thoughts my brain attempts to sift through. “I think you need to get your story straight,Uncle Arturo. Because it sounds like all my nonna wanted was for Bes to help me retrieve the museum’s precious artifact and get back home in one piece. But you just said you sent Cec to ensure I made ithere. It can’t be both.”
In that moment, his entire demeanor shifts: his eyes narrow into slits and a slight, wicked smile pulls at the corners of his dry lips.
“Can’t it?”
A lump forms in my throat and my grip on the armchair tightens. I barely register Bes placing his hand completely on my shoulder, his warmth pressing through the linen of my shirt. The Amulet of Amun, tucked away inside, feels as if it’s burning a hole through my chest.
I barely hear Cec speak over the dull roar in my ears. “What are you saying, father?”
Ansaldo goes on as if Cec didn’t say a word, his tone cold and emotionless in a way it wasn’t before.
“Your mother abandoned the order, breaking several rules and murdering her own people in the process. So, when Lucia phoned about you needing assistance in retrieving the very same amulet the God Men have been searching for, I saw an opportunity. Not only to protect the Amulet of Amun from falling into the hands of what promises to be the worst evil this world has ever seen, but to once again have a Fiore take part in the organization they helped create.”
Some part of me knew Ansaldo was pulling my strings like a puppet. I never realized just how many strings—along with Bes and Cec’s strings—until this moment.
“All while giving me no choice in the matter,” I bite out. “How magnanimous of you.”
Ignoring me, he holds out his hand. “That reminds me: I’ll take the amulet now.”
I pause for a beat, my heart in my throat. “I don’t have it.”
Ansaldo glares at Cec. “I was told you keep it on you at all times.”
Cec swallows audibly. I want to pat him on the hand to reassure him; it’s not his fault his father uses information as a weapon, no matter where the information originates from.
Knowledge is power indeed.
Bile stirs inside my empty stomach at the thought of parting with the amulet, knowing I have no choice as I pull the chain over my head and hand it over to Ansaldo. I was bound to lose it at some point, but I hoped it would be on my own terms. I also hoped to learn if it could be activated or not beforehand.
I should’ve never called this damn meeting.
Ansaldo glances at it disinterestedly, stands, and places it in an empty green-velvet box I’m only just now noticing. I’ve had the relic on me for so long now, I already miss the weight of it around my neck. The way the bloodstone warms against me at odd times.
He leans forward on his desk. “We are not the evil in the world, Miss Hawkins. We are the only good equipped to fight it, whatever the cost. This is what our oath dictates; this is what the gods demand of us in order to maintain balance in the world.”
My blood swiftly boils over, though I’m not sure icy fear won’t win out in the end. “What you mean to say is you’re the lesser of two evils. But that doesn’t absolve you from the evil itself.”
