I can never go home.
My heart pounds hard inside my chest and I’m having trouble breathing. I already knew that, but hearing it practically confirmed guts me. I may have no choice now but to join the order, especially if they’re the only way to stop this madness. If I help them destroy the God Men, the Third Reich, all of it… perhaps then I can finally go home?
Maybe not even then.Hopelessness envelops me.
I didn’t notice him move, but suddenly Bes is at my side. He places his arm around my shoulder, holding me to him without saying a word. Tears prick painfully behind my eyes. His thoughtfulness means more to me than I can say.
Cec taps his cane absentmindedly against the leg of the table; I barely hear him over the ringing in my ears. “I can confirm this. The Maestro at the club in the Port of Civitavecchia relayed similar information.”
“Your father must’ve forgotten to tell me,” Nonna Alessa mutters.
I endeavor to put some strength behind my next words. “What can be done about all this? Even if it does seem far-fetched to me, Hitler cannot be allowed to inherit any paranormal abilities by having all three Arma Christi in his possession. And the God Men…”
I take in an unsteady breath. The image of Ingrid finding us in Messina and then again in Civitavecchia fills my mind, poisoning it with fear.
Bes shifts his hand up along my shoulder, his thumb stroking achingly close to my neck.
“I won’t let them hurt you,” he murmurs softly, nearly pressing his lips into my hair. Louder, he asks, “Whatisbeing done?”
“The God Men, we can do nothing about. Not yet, anyway,” Nonna Alessa says, turning her eyes on me. “I’m sorry.”
I nod wordlessly. Bes tightens his hand on my shoulder before removing it.
She continues. “Ansaldo is putting together a team to intercept this German art dealer in three-days’ time to find out what he knows, before he can pass on the information to the God Men or anyone else.”
“But you’re still going to allow him to tell the Third Reich about the map,” I glean from her tone. “Why? If this man is the only one who’s decoded it, shouldn’t he be killed?”
Cec laughs mordantly. “Despite what you’ve seen of us so far, we’re not normally in the business of killing people.”
I glance at Bes, seeing in my mind’s eye when he shot Ingrid’s unarmed brother outside the back door of the Egyptian Museum of Antiquities. Even now, if you were to ask me what I thought the order was in the business of, I’d say they have a kill-first-ask-questions-later policy.Maybe that’s just Bes’s policy.
“All of this is assuming he’s been the only person to ever decode it,” I argue.
“We would know about it if anyone else had,” Bes claims.
Cec leans his hip into the table. “If the map does exist and Gurlitt’s already decoded it, then we can make him tell us where the items are first, and get to them before the God Men do.”
I know I’m going to regret the answer to this question before I ask it. “And how do you intend tomakehim tell you?”
Cec sighs. “Hawkins, you’ve witnessed merely a fraction of what we’re capable of.”
I have no doubts about that.
“That’s enough excitement for me. I’m going to find something to eat,” Nonna Alessa announces unceremoniously. She smiles warmly and surprises me by walking up to me and cupping my cheeks with her hands. “Don’t take any puttanata from these boys, huh? Especially Cecilio.”
“Aye,” he complains half-heartedly.
I manage a grin, placing one hand over hers. “Ti prometto.”I promise.
Once she disappears into the stacks, Anders lunges for a mound of papers.What’s gotten into him?Moving them to the side, he grabs a gold cylinder from beneath.
I eye it strangely. “Is that a Bazeries cylinder?”
Bes taps the cypher, propped up horizontally on a stone stand. “Close. It’s the Egyptian equivalent, recovered from the Libraryof Alexandria after Caesar set fire to part of it. It’s believed to have been crafted by a scholar during Seti the First’s time.”
My pulse jumps. “Does that mean…?”
“Could be.” Cec looks near Anders with his milky gaze. “Let’s find out, shall we.”
