“Semele, it’s Theo. I was calling to check on the delivery.”
“The delivery was fine.” Her tone hardened. “You’ll be pleased to hear I’ve been taken off the account.”
There was a pregnant pause. “What are you talking about?”
“Our senior consultant, Fritz Wagner, will now be overseeing your father’s collection, per your request—”
“I didn’t request anything.” Theo cut her off. “I don’t want anyone else handling my father’s collection but you. Only you.”
Semele didn’t know what to say. So much for Fritz’s theory. Now she had made things worse by upsetting her client—ex-client.
“This is unacceptable,” he stressed.
“Mr.— Theo, I’m sorry but it wasn’t my decision. I thought it was yours.…” She trailed off.
“No, Semele. It wasn’t mine.”
The warmth in his voice reached out to her. Thousands of miles apart and it was as though they were back in the gallery.
He let out a pained sigh. “I’m afraid I didn’t handle our good-bye as I should have. There are things I need to say.”
She waited for him to continue.
“Semele … I’m struggling.”
His admission twisted her inside. She wanted to tell him she was struggling too, and had been ever since they’d kissed. But saying so felt like cheating on Bren all over again. Instead she said nothing.
A long silence passed between them.
“Let me handle Kairos,” he said, sounding frustrated again. “I’ll call you back,” and he hung up.
Semele stood rooted on the street as people rushed past. Was Theo actually going to demand she be put back on the collection? Here she was trying to forget what had happened in Switzerland, and just hearing him say her name like that wasn’t helping.
She was sure Mikhail would figure out a way to get Theo to accept Fritz: her boss was a master at handling difficult clients. Maybe it was better if Fritz took over. Fritz would be the one to review the collection piece by piece with Theo after all the appraisals were finished; he’d be the one taking him to client dinners and holding his hand through the auction process. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like Fritz was the better choice. Theo Bossard made her make very bad decisions.
She still couldn’t figure out how to tell Bren what had happened.
The truth was, her life had been unraveling ever since she had found Marcel’s note and the manuscript.
Message to VS—
Potential problem.
No longer overseeing the collection.
Reply from VS—
Unexpected.
Message to VS—
Assigned to Beijing.
Reply from VS—
Continue surveillance.
I’ll handle Beijing.
I could see why Poseidon was the patron of Antioch. Elaborate mechanical fountains performed dances everywhere I turned. The city stole my breath with its magnificence. Mosaics decorated the buildings and the marble glinted like rainbows in the sunlight. Known as a mecca for the legal minds of the East and a doorway to Asia, the city was steeped in wealth and luxury.
I walked the main street, a two-mile stretch bustling with traders and artists. A covered colonnade extended on both sides, offering shade, and a broad carriage road created a thoroughfare in the center.
Cheers from the Hippodrome reverberated in the distance. Much like the infamous Circus Maximus in Rome, the chariot races at the Hippodrome drew over eighty thousand spectators a day. I could also hear the sounds of flutes and tambourines signaling some kind of wild merriment nearby, and I began to understand why they said Roman soldiers stationed in Antioch refused to leave.
For hours I wandered through the maze of the market, stopping to buy provisions as I made my way to the center of the city. There was only one place I could think to go, and I wanted to make it before I lost the day’s light. My father had known many a scholar from Antioch who had traveled to our library. I hoped to find someone at theirs who knew him.
Because I had grown up a librarian’s daughter, I knew that all libraries had a book depository. These rooms were prized but frequently forgotten—vaults where countless codices and manuscripts were stored before being cataloged or translated. Antioch’s would be the perfect place to hide.
The depository was always located in the back of a library and unlocked during the day. With the ease born from a lifetime of sneaking through alcoves, I skirted past questioning eyes until I found the door. I ducked inside and let my eyes adjust to the dark. Then I moved several stacks of crates, creating a hidden corner that would be my bed for the night.
I dug through my satchel and pulled out the food from the market. I feasted on flatbread with peppered ??kelek cheese and a kebab dusted with pistachio and lemon sumac. Nothing had ever tasted so delicious.
I drank it down with salgam. The woman selling the purple refreshment told me it was made from pickled-carrot water flavored with half-fermented turnips. My lips felt the sting of the turnips, but the drink tasted delightful and my body was restored.
Thoroughly satiated, I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I must have dozed off, because when I awoke, the door was closed.
I tried to ease my growing panic. Surely someone would return tomorrow morning to unlock it. They always did at our library. After they came, I would wait for the right moment and sneak out. Then I would find a scholar who knew my father and ask for his assistance. I would need help if I was going to rent a room. So long as I lived modestly, the coins in my cloak would last while I searched for Ariston.
My eyes grew heavy as I looked at the shadows of the scrolls and manuscripts, towering above me like mountains. I felt like a scroll that had been lost and deposited among the rest.
That night I had strange, vivid dreams of lying on the floor of a cave. When I awoke the next morning the dream felt important, but I didn’t know why. The sound of the lock turning jarred me awake.
Suddenly the door opened and one of the hyperetae, the assistants responsible for registering the books, came in to make a morning deposit. I huddled deeper in the corner, not daring to move.
The sands of time in the hourglass seemed to stop as I listened to him stack manuscripts. Had a hyperetae ever moved slower?