“How is that my doing?” I sputter. “It’s not my fault he was late picking me up at the airfield, or that the museum was hiding a fascist spy beneath his nose all that time.”
He smiles gently. “Believe me, his brooding has nothing to do with the fascists.”
With no further prompting, he turns on his heels and leaves me to stew over his words. And stew I do, even after heading back to the helm myself.
My gaze finds Bes again. Head hung low, he grips the back of his neck, shifting his stance at the helm, his tense shoulders broader than I first gave them credit for.
Perhaps I’m simply not used to British young men, but if Cec was insinuating that the reason Bes broods is because ofme, I might wonder at his sanity. While I find him objectively attractive, he gets on my last nerve. And, if everything goes to plan in the long-run, I’ll never see him again. I imagine he understands things the same way: practically. Logically.
The more I think on what else Cec said, though, the more I refuse to excuse Bes from keeping me in the dark. While he’s promised to protect me, he’s also choosing to keep secrets from me, to lie to me, which only serves to put me in danger.
Either way, I’m going to keep asking questions until they get sick of me.
According to the ship’s maritime clock, it’s nearly twenty-two hundred hours when Bes cuts off the engine. We continue to drift in the direction of a short, rotted dock built into the shore not far from the main port, slightly hidden by a fold in thecoastline. I have no idea how he found it in the dark. Unless he knew it was already there.
Bes ties us off, tightening the final knot before heading back into the helm to ensure everything’s in place. The latent smell of oil and brine wafts up from the sea, but I’m just glad to be within swimming distance of land again.
The three of us take refuge inside the helm for a moment, catching our breath now that we’ve finally docked in Civitavecchia.
I’m curious how long we’ll be stopped here for. Cec said he needed to get something for Arturo, but not how long it would take to get it. Or why we’re taking the time to stop when the God Men appear to know our every move. If I ask, they’ll probably lie to me anyway.
Then, I remember the story Bes told me, about the Stele della Madonna della Lettera.
“Was what you told me earlier, about the statue in the port at Messina, the truth? Or a story you came up with on the spot?”
Bes sets his eyes on the bow of the ship, while Cec peers out of the side of the helm, as if he can actually see something there, both choosing silence.
“The truth,” Bes confirms.
“And those talks between Hitler and Hirohito that Cec mentioned back at the museum? How do you know about those?”
“Memory of an elephant, this one,” Cec mutters.
Sudden rage sets my blood ablaze when Bes refuses to answer. I shot and killed another one of the God Men earlier today to help us escape—the least these two owe me is answers to my questions.
“And what if I threaten to jump off this boat and swim to shore? No doubt the God Men will find me soon enough. Maybetheyare willing to tell me what I want to know.”
“That’s a bit dramatic,” Cec notes.
Iambluffing, of course; I’d be an idiot to let myself be caught by the God Men. But Bes and Cec don’t know that.
They exchange a look full of wordless discussion only one of them can appreciate.
Bes grudgingly meets my gaze again. “As I said before, if we could tell you the truth of it, we would.”
“Why can’t you?”
Bes stares out into the calm waters around us, answering my first question. “If you swim to Civitavecchia and put yourself in the power of the God Men, we’re not coming after you. Ailsa chose to die rather than subject herself to their methods. So, you can throw your lot in with us, or take your chances with the fascists.”
I grimace. I’ll never throw my lot in with the fascists—especially considering they’ve tried to kill me multiple times—but neither can I do as he asks and blindly trust them.I’ll have to keep my wits about me, as I always do.
As much as I still would love to go home and leave all this behind, there are reasons to stay. I want to find out more about the God Men and how they know about me. And… I’m growing more and more interested in whether or not the Amulet of Amun is imbued with magic. Not just because it might be my only way home, either.
I’m also conflicted by whatever it is that’s happening between Bes and I, and my growing friendship with Cec. I haven’t found anyone like either of them back home, and I’m simply not ready to leave them yet.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I regard him harshly. “Well, when you put it like that, I suppose I’ll take the lesser of two evils.”
Unnerved by the silence left behind after that statement, I practically stomp over to the bow of the ship, expecting to be leftalone. Instead, someone—presumably Bes, since I don’t hear the mark of Cec’s cane—follows at a distance.
