A shower helped revive her and gave her time to think about Ionna’s account of the fire. Semele knew of Alexandria’s history and the legends surrounding the library’s destruction. She had taken a course on ancient libraries of antiquity at Yale; it was also one of her father’s favorite topics.
The Library of Alexandria’s demise had always been plagued by controversy—debates raged over when it had happened and who caused the destruction. Many historians believed that when Caesar set fire to the ships, he caused the first fatal blow. Others insisted that only books in the warehouses near the waterfront were destroyed. Each camp cited countless historical references to back up their claims. In all the years, there was still no single narrative that historians could agree upon.
Semele ran down the list of culprits. If Caesar wasn’t responsible, then it was likely Queen Zenobia of Palmyra, who notoriously persecuted Alexandria’s librarians and burned books while at war with Roman emperor Aurelian. Less than thirty years later, Diocletian had purged the Library of Alexandria of every single magic and alchemy book and burned all the scriptures. Then, in A.D. 391, Pope Theophilus’ decree destroyed the Serapeum, where the remaining works from the library had been moved.
And between all those wars, nature had played her hand as well. Earthquakes caused major destruction over centuries, and every day the elements brought on a slower degradation. The most moderate theorists claimed that a combination of these factors caused the library’s demise.
Semele knew there wasn’t one simple answer, and yet here was an account from a person who lived through it. Just the thought rejuvenated her. She was wide awake now and couldn’t wait to get to the office.
She needed to talk to Mikhail.
*
She arrived almost late for her meeting and with no time for coffee. She hurried down the hall to Mikhail’s office. His assistant, Brittany, was sorting auction catalogs at her desk outside the imposing double doors.
“You can go right in,” she chirped, but then squinted her eyes. “What happened to your face?”
Semele gave her a tired smile and entered Mikhail’s office right as he was finishing up a call. He motioned her in, so she took a seat and waited, listening to him speak softly in Russian.
Mikhail had been head director of the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg before coming to Kairos. He was somewhere in his late fifties and had the dramatic look one expected to see in a portrait of a Russian cossack soldier hanging on a museum wall.
He said something quietly and hung up the phone. Semele had no idea if the call had been business or personal. With Mikhail she never knew.
“Welcome back.” His voice had only the slightest hint of an accent. “You look tired.” He assessed her with sharp eyes; then his face relaxed into a smile.
“A bit jet-lagged,” she said, downplaying her fatigue.
He pressed his intercom. “Brittany, please bring Semele an Americano, one sugar.”
Semele flashed him a grateful smile.
“And ask Raina to join us.”
Semele’s smile fell. Why was Raina coming to their meeting?
“So!” he said, clapping his hands. “I hear Switzerland was a success.”
She nodded, now slightly off-kilter. “The collection’s here. We can go down. I just need to double-check the roster and get a few more items to the lab.…” She trailed off when Raina strutted in.
“That won’t be necessary,” Mikhail said, shooting Raina an appreciative glance as she sat down and crossed her legs.
Semele all but rolled her eyes at Raina’s daring hemline and stilettos. No wonder Cabe was a tangle of hormones.
“What’s not necessary?” she asked, returning her focus to him.
“There’s been a change of plans. Fritz is going to handle the Bossard account.”
It took Semele a moment to process what Mikhail had just said. He might as well have been speaking Russian again. She looked at Raina, who seemed just as surprised.
“You want to give my account to Fritz? To Fritz?” Semele asked twice in disbelief. Fritz was the company’s blond-haired wonder boy from Vienna and technically the most senior consultant on staff. He was also the one who had just handled the $14 million auction.
“I think it’s a wise decision,” Raina interjected, obviously taking pleasure in Semele’s discomfort. “Especially with such a high-profile collection.”
“The Bossard account is mine,” Semele said to Mikhail, stressing the word “mine.” He had never given one of her accounts to someone else. She was too stunned to say anything else.
The door opened again and Brittany entered. She reached to place the coffee on the side table next to Semele.
“I’ll take it,” Semele said gruffly, not even letting her set the cup down. She took several fortifying sips while she waited for Brittany to leave. She kept her eyes on Mikhail and ignored Raina entirely. “Why would you want to take me off?”
“Fritz handled the Galli account beautifully last year,” he said. “The board would like to see the same results here.”
“The Galli Collection?” Her mind drew a blank.
“The dowager in Bern,” Raina reminded her with a patronizing tone.
“The sheet music?” Semele asked, growing more astounded.
A wealthy widow in Bern had amassed a rare collection of sheet music and ledgers from the Renaissance and Baroque eras. Both collections were in Switzerland, but their similarities stopped there.
Why Mikhail would want Fritz to take over the Bossard account was not only beyond her but also an insult. A fleeting thought crossed her mind. “Does Theo Bossard have an issue with my work?”
“Not at all.” Mikhail shook his head. “On the contrary, he’s been full of praise.”
The thought of Theo speaking to Mikhail about her was just as unsettling. What had he said?
“We have a new account you need to jump on right away.” Mikhail handed Raina the open file on his desk. “Set it up.”
“A new account? Are you kidding me?” Semele finally let her anger fully surface. “I’m in the middle of one I happen to care about!”
She and Mikhail were supposed to spend the next several hours going over the collection and hammering out potential strategies for the auction next month. She had also been anxious to discuss the manuscript and Marcel’s note. And now her account was being handed over to Fritz?
“What if I say no?” she asked. Raina laughed and Semele wanted to throttle her. She shouldn’t even be here.
“I’m sorry, Semele.” Mikhail met her eyes.
During the five years they had been working together, she and Mikhail had developed a strong mutual respect as well as a shorthand for communicating with one another. He was telling her the decision was final.
“Where is the client?” she asked.
“Beijing,” Raina informed her with barely disguised glee as she reviewed the file.
Semele closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Part of her wondered if this was some sort of plan to get her out of the picture. Why Beijing? Why now? She should be swamped with preparations for the auction. Now she was being shipped off to China.
Raina stood up to leave. “I’ll get with the new clients and set up your travel,” she said and sauntered out.