I tasted roses.
The memory rushed from all sides, looming large in my mind. Cleopatra sailed in extravagant finery, floating on a sharp blue river on a barge fashioned with a gilded stern and immense purple sails. In her hand, she read a letter. A summons from Marcus Antonius to account for her misbehaving. She was meeting the great general for the first time—frustrated, nervous, and annoyed.
A shiver ran across my skin as her feelings invaded my body.
I pulled away with a sharp gasp. The magic thrummed in my blood, reached every corner of my body, and thundered in my ears. I’d never heard it so loud, never felt it so strongly. Recognition blazed, a triumphant roar ringing in my ears. How did the magic pull me in so quickly? More important, why did it? I tossed one idea after another. Cleopatra had clearly created a spell to preserve her memories, tasting sharp and sweet like roses, and the effects of the magic had anchored it to the golden ring, and once I’d touched the ring, traces of the magic latched on to me, as magic was known to do. And whatever magic stayed with me recognized the magic in Trajan’s Kiosk. Maybe in this entire island? It was as if Cleopatra had left an imprint of herself behind, a woman who had lived over two millennia ago. I could feel her presence and her emotions. She was alluring and earthy, a woman who knew how to provoke, a woman who knew how to lead.
History also remembered her as a woman adept in the occult.
I stepped away from the platform, my heart beating erratically against my ribs. The awareness dimmed and I could breathe again. I wanted to run inside, but I held myself back. Behind me, the sound of everyone gathering for the evening meal filled the darkening night: low murmured conversation, a crackling fire, and soft laughter.
“Inez?” Tío Ricardo called.
My feet refused to move. Trajan’s Kiosk loomed large, a dark silhouette against the moonstruck sky. For some reason, the touch against the stone made me think of my father. He’d stood here, like I did. Touched by the same lure of the magic. The picture in my mind was tangled and messy but I was beginning to see how it was all connected.
My parents’ deaths.
Mamá scared for her safety.
Cleopatra’s tomb.
Papá and the golden ring, touched by the same magic that had clung to my skin.
“Inez!” The edge of impatience in his voice dispatched a flutter of nerves deep in my belly.
I turned away reluctantly and walked across the sandy expanse between the ancient buildings and our campsite. The air had turned cool and I hunched my shoulders against the night breeze. My uncle waited, limned in the firelight blazing behind him. He watched me narrowly as I approached, a severe line to his shoulders.
“What were you doing?”
Sweat dampened my palms. I kept my voice neutral. Instinct told me to keep my discovery quiet until I knew the rules of his game. One misstep, and he’d sweep me off the board. “I only wanted a closer look. It’s a magnificent structure.”
Tío Ricardo drew closer, and I stiffened. He leaned forward, peering intently into my face. I held myself still and fought to keep my expression neutral. “Did you feel anything?”
“Nothing.” I licked my lips. “Can the feeling of magic fade?”
Tío Ricardo said nothing, still intently studying my expression, and then finally straightened. “I don’t know. Perhaps? Come, it’s time to eat with the others.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
He led me to where everyone gathered, sitting on jutting stones or mats and narrow blankets. I perched myself next to my uncle, the warmth of the blaze combating the chill air settling around us like a thick coat. Whit sat across from me, our argument hovering between us like an unwanted houseguest. His fingers were absently moving over the handle of his gun. A nervous twitch I’d seen him do before, his thumb brushing over the initials engraved in the steel. He turned his head in my direction, blue eyes glittering like sapphires, and my stomach swooped sharply. Then he deliberately looked away, engaging in conversation with a crew member on his left.
Tío Ricardo handed me an empty mug. “You’ll need something warm to drink.”
With a murmured thanks, I took a long sip. The weight of everyone’s stares settled on my shoulders. I was the newcomer, a stranger. Even Mr. Fincastle seemed at ease, reclining on a mat, one of his guns within hand’s reach. Isadora sat primly, her back straight, balancing a plate on a bended knee. She threw me a smile and then continued her quiet conversation with her father.
I wrestled with this strange night.
Magic thrummed near me from Trajan’s Kiosk, a constant lure, but I concentrated on the strangers surrounding me. It struck me all over again. In a foreign land, far from home, and the people I wanted to be with the most in the world would never join the circle around the fire. I sensed the team’s sympathy, but I was alone, without even my uncle to keep me from feeling adrift. I’d been foolish to think of even Whit as a friend. I sipped my tea as a way to have something to do with my hands.
Abdullah sat on the other side of me, an affable smile on his face. “Your father was a marvelous storyteller. He knew how to make people laugh. Is that not a nice thing? Here, I see that you’ve finished your tea. Would you like more?” He talked fast, his hands wildly moving. I nodded in bemusement, and he reached around me and untied my uncle’s necktie from around his neck, and then he held it up for me to see. “My favorite magic.”
“What is it?” I’d seen Tío Ricardo wearing the garment earlier, the pattern an unexpected fashion choice. It was a Scottish plaid in bold reds and greens.
Abdullah motioned for me to hold up my empty mug. I did so, and watched in amazement as he wrung the necktie over it. Hot water poured into the cup, steam curling up into my face.
“That’s extraordinary,” I said.
Kareem ran over with a tea bag, and I thanked him. My uncle’s lips twitched in amusement as Abdullah shook out the necktie, aiming away from everyone. When he returned the square-shaped fabric to my uncle, it was completely dry. Tío Ricardo tied the ends into a knot around his neck.
“There’s more magic in a crate over by headquarters,” Abdullah said. “Useful things for digging and researching. Feel free to explore it.”
“Oh yes, I will. Shokran, I’m eager for you to put me to work.”
“You’d like to dig alongside the rest of us?” Abdullah asked with a wry smile.
My uncle peered at me. “It’s a hard day’s work, Inez. I’ve been doing it for over a decade and it never gets easier.”
“It’s not the same thing,” I said. “But I’ve always liked to search for things, Tío. I’m afraid I’m much too like my parents and you, for that matter. If you teach me how to excavate, I’m sure I can do the job properly.”