I’m more than curious how he got this way. One or two of Nonna’s friends have a similar affliction, but theirs is due to the passing of time; I’ve never known a blind person as young as Cecilio.At least he appears to have a good humor about it.
Bes pinches the bridge of his nose beneath the rims of his glasses. “Not that I’m not pleasantly chuffed to see you, Cec, but to what do we owe the pleasure?”
Cecilio—Cec—drops his playful smile. “I wish it were under kinder circumstances, cousin. But it seems your… rendezvous at the Temple of Seti the First is making its way through the archaeological back channels. And not the reputable kind.”
“There are archaeological back channels?” I wonder if Nonna is aware of them. And then, if she knows about the seedy kind Cec speaks of. Or if they have anything to do with the markets Claude mentioned.
Cec winks at me. “You’d be shocked by how much we gossip.”
I recall all the rumors around school about some of the history professors. “Actually, I don’t think I would.”
“Besides, I’m sure Williams couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” Bes adds. “I’m assuming the word is that there was more than one of the God Men?”
Cec throws a hand against his chest—curiously not questioning Bes’s casual mention of the God Men, an organization I had no idea existed until today. Perhaps they’re more well known outside the United States. “Wasn’t there?”
I laugh at the abject horror in his expression. “Unless you consider your cousin to be a deranged fascist. Or me.”
“While I can’t be certain about you yet, Bes doesn’t possess the complete lack of moral fiber one needs to become one of them.”
Bes raises his brow. “Remind me never to ask you for a reference.”
“Did you also hear the soldier shot both of them?” I ask.
Cec shakes his head. “Uncanny.”
“And rather typical.” Bes shoves his hands into his pockets. It slumps his shoulders but also puffs out his chest, which I find myself momentarily distracted by. “The truth would wound his reputation: I knocked him out with the butt of my gun before he could work out why we were truly at the temple, and Miss Hawkins shot the only fascist there. With quick precision, I might add.”
I wince at his assessment, even as his praise brings warmth to my cheeks. While I appreciate how he conveniently left out my amateur flirting as a distraction, I can only nod mechanically at his approval of my shooting abilities. Once again, I fight to keep the contents in my stomach from coming up.Precision is for tin cans, not human beings.
“We didn’t come out of it unscathed,” I remind Bes, holding up my bandaged hands. “I badly injured my knee and scraped my palms, while Bes took a bullet to the arm.”
“I’m fine,” Bes cuts in before Cec can ask, rolling his left shoulder. “It grazed me, is all. Nothing to be concerned about.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Cec says finally, though worry furrows his brow. “And the amulet?”
I hesitate. Bes trusts Cec, but I’m still not completely sold on trusting Bes.Perhaps showing both of them proof I have the amulet will get them to pay me quicker so I can get the hell out of here.Because, while all this talk of God Men is fascinating, I’m resolved that it has nothing to do with me. My part in all this has to be over. And even though I’d love to analyze the relic I nearly died for further, it’s not worth my life.
The amulet is in the hands of the museum, where it belongs.
Unlike many of Nonna’s colleagues, we go out of our way to ensure all the artifacts we recover stay in the possession of the countries they originated in, and out of the hands of art dealers and imperialists. It’s why I was all too eager to take on this expedition, given which museum hired me.
Turns out, the God Men had other plans.
I pull the Amulet of Amun out from beneath my shirt by the gold-linked chain, where it’s been resting against my breastbone since the temple. The gold wings glint in the low lamplight—even the shade of the bloodstone looks different here than inside the Osireion, taking on a more dulled hue. A part of me wishes the red specks of stone would shift beneath the surface again, if only to prove I haven’t lost my wits.
Unfortunately, they don’t.
Bes sucks in a short breath, and I glance up to find his eyes wide on the amulet.This is the first time he’s seeing it in the flesh.When I tried to show it to him before, Williams was still conscious and not in the know.
Remembering Cec can’t see it, though, I tuck it back into my shirt. “It’s with me. And it’ll stay that way until I get what I’m owed.”
“Oh, I like her.” Cec attempts to smooth back his wild hair. “And what about this sham of a man who falsified his position at the museum.”
I almost ask Bes to recount the whole fiasco, not wanting to relive it again. But Idowant to see if these two have heard about the amulet’s otherwordly powers.
“He claimed his name was Claude, an emissary from the museum who claimed to know both the curator and my nonna. He brought me to the Temple of Seti the First, told me about its history when I asked. Then, after he finally admitted he was an agent of the Third Reich, he spared a few more details about the amulet. Though they were more fiction than fact.”
“For instance?” Cec prods.
