“Ge’ some rest,” she tells me, “we’ve a long journey ahead of us.”
She leaves me to it, climbing up the steps and disappearing above-deck.
Unable to handle the overwhelming queasiness a moment longer, I gulp down the water, along with my pride. I’m not sure when it’ll take effect, but after all I’ve been through, I’m certainly exhausted enough to sleep. Even without the aid of my usual remedy.
Removing the German Luger from my waistband, I give it a once over. Although it’s already cocked, the safety on the left side of the gun, near the trigger, appears to still be on. I hope I won’t need it but place it beneath my pillow anyway, then slip beneath the covers, fully-clothed. Claude’s gun remains in my suitcase, where it’ll stay.
Pulling my knees up to my chest until my nausea settles, I convince myself over and over that I’ll be safe here, when sleep finally pulls me under.
The pulsing of the amulet against my breastbone pulls me from a deep slumber.
Oh God, where am I?
Without giving me a moment to find my bearings, muffled voices slip into my waking subconscious.
“I believe she’s dead.”
“And how shit would you feel if that were true?”
“I’d be comforted by the fact that I can finally realize my lifelong dream of performing a Viking funeral on a flaming pyre at sea.”
A deep sigh. “Why are you like this?”
“Runs in the family, mate. There’s no escaping it.”
Someone scoffs. “Bully for me, all the idiocy passed to you.”
Some part of me recognizes the voices, but I’m still caught between asleep and awake, and I can’t trust my own mind.
A heavy pause sits between them for so long, I nearly fall back asleep.
“We won’t be able to keep the truth from her for much longer.”
The truth? What truth?
“She’s not your typical American imbecile,” the voice continues. “I’m sure she’s already begun to suspect that something’s not right. Perhaps we shouldn’t have spoken the passcode in front of her.”
Passcode… I begin to remember.
“She’s no fool, that’s for certain. If she does start asking questions, we’ll deal with that when the time comes,” the second voice reasons as sleep continues to loosen its hold over me. “Until then, we need to do everything we can to make sure she—and the Amulet of Amun—are safe. I promised her we would.”
Promised… yes,Bespromised me.
Slowly, painfully, I begin to remember where I am and who I’m with: on a boat, with Bes Belzoni and Cecilio Giudice and Ailsa, on the run from the fascist God Men who will stop at nothing to obtain the Amulet of Amun. The more traumatizing events from the day before try to weasel their way in, but I block them out.
Instead, I focus on Bes and Cec—who have no idea I’m listening to them.I even out my breathing to mimic sleep.
Becoming more aware of my surroundings in the silence, I try to make sense of what they’ve been going on about. And can’t come up with much, considering the cryptic nature of it.What could possibly be so important they need to hide it from me, a stranger?Apparently important enough they can’t talk about it even when they think I’m asleep.
Or, by Cec’s assumption, dead.
I hope Nonna was right to put her trust in Arturo. Placing my life in the hands of these people isn’t the best decision I’ve ever made. They’ve proved it not to be the worst, either. I’d absolutely be worse off in the clutches of the God Men, especially if Bes is right about retribution for killing one of their own. They might not take my life in return, but they could make me wish for death. Or use Nonna as leverage.
Another weighty pause lingers on, then:
“You’re different around her,” Cec murmurs.
Bes grunts. “Don’t be ridiculous; we’ve only just met. She means nothing to me.”
