Song Of The Nile Part 2

Whatever could be wrong with my eyes? I found a silver mirror upon the dressing table and examined my reflection, only to see that the kohl from the night before had smeared and made it look as if I'd wept. "He didn't hurt me," I murmured, reaching for a washcloth from the nearby basin. "He barely touched me."

Julia's eyes widened as she glanced at our bed. "Perhaps he's waiting to claim his rights until he's sure of a pleasant reception." I remembered the rush of warmth that had flowed through my body when Juba kissed me. I might have received Juba quite pleasantly if he hadn't asked me for something I couldn't give. "Or perhaps your groom hopes to reach some sort of arrangement with you, Selene."

I arched a brow. "An arrangement?"

At this, Julia s.n.a.t.c.hed the mirror from me to admire her own delicate features. "Marcellus and I have an arrangement." The hairs at the nape of my neck rose in a way that reminded me of my cat's reaction to danger. "On the night of our wedding, I told Marcellus that I knew he played the catamite with older men like Virgil. That kind of bedroom play is well enough for a poet or a Greek, but for the emperor's nephew? Scandal!"

Of all the older boys in the household, Marcellus had always been the most agreeable. Moreover, Virgil, the emperor's poet, had always been a friend to my brothers and me. It pained me to think of either man brought into disgrace. "What did Marcellus say when you confronted him?"

Julia tossed her head, the green gla.s.s beads of her dangling earrings rattling together as she laughed. "Marcellus was actually relieved that I knew. He's never been with a woman. He can't bring himself to it. We've agreed to put out in public that we're happily wed and neither of us will interfere in one another's affairs."

I wanted to share in her laughter, but I couldn't even make myself smile. "Julia-"

"Oh, here comes a lecture, and it ought to be rich, coming from you, who just yesterday set every tongue wagging."

"Your father relies on you to give him an heir!"

"Then he should have married me to Iullus Antonius," Julia said, defiantly. When I put both my hands over my mouth to stifle my gasp, she said, "Don't pretend to be surprised. I love your stepbrother. I've always loved him. I always will. Besides, you're the one who prattles on about Egypt, where women are able to choose. You say women are as valuable to the world as men. And look! You've persuaded my father to make you a queen. Why shouldn't I shape the future to my liking?"

Just the day before, I'd proclaimed myself a G.o.ddess and Julia wondered why she couldn't simply be the mistress of her own destiny. Her thoughts were dangerous. Iullus was my father's son by the fearsome Fulvia, long since dead, but another woman the emperor loathed. Julia would have been hard-pressed to find a more insulting candidate for her heart. "Julia, do you know what your father would do to you if he caught you with Iullus? To both of you?"

She fluttered her eyelashes at me, the very image of innocence. "Why should my father ever find out? Someday the empire will belong to Marcellus. He'd gladly adopt my children as his own. He said so. After being forced to marry, we've found a way to be happy. Why can't you be happy for us?"

"Because I'm terrified for you." For Iullus too. My Roman half brother had made a misery of my childhood in Rome, but I never wished actual harm to befall him.

Julia poked at me with the hard edge of the mirror. "Don't give me your solemn expression. You'll have plenty of time to be solemn after a few years of chasing Juba's brats in Mauretania. You'll have to give him a whole litter, and you'll be so busy with motherhood, you'll forget all about your loved ones here in Rome."

At this, I bristled. "I never forget my loved ones." I didn't forget my living brothers or the ones that Augustus murdered. I didn't forget my father, who had fallen on his sword. Nor did I ever forget my mother and how she met her end. Those pains crowded my khaibit, the shadow part of my soul. I didn't want to make room for more.

MY husband arrived at the wedding breakfast without offering any explanation for his early-morning disappearance, and my attempt to engage him in conversation was drowned out by the din of the pipers announcing us. Juba stood tall, a hand at my elbow, turning me to the guests as if for display, but there wasn't anything improper about my ensemble this time. My hair twisted in a modest knot at the nape of my neck and a light blue chiton bloused low on my hips. It was a Greek garment, but it was still considered appropriate. Even so, it didn't prevent Livia's caustic appraisal. The emperor's wife leaned forward to whisper, "Do you expect everyone to forget that you dressed like a harlot for your wedding? Don't think you can embarra.s.s me, as you did yesterday, without paying a price."

I detested the emperor's wife but knew better than to antagonize her. I was mindful that my little brother Philadelphus must stay behind in Rome. There were too many people I loved who would remain at Livia's mercy long after I left to rule my new kingdom, so I made no reply to the emperor's wife, giving all my attention to the swarm of guests. Surrounded by speculators and hangers-on seeking our patronage, Juba and I were overwhelmed with gifts. Vivid paintings framed with precious wood, engraved gemstones, expensive Greek sculptures carved from the finest marble. More practical gifts too, including couches with golden feet arched in the shape of eagle claws, tall braziers studded with carnelian, and oil lamps that served as a canvas for fanciful creatures painted in black and ochre.

Amidst all this treasure, Lucius Cornelius Balbus approached us boldly. The Cornelii were a famous patrician Roman family, but this man came from one of its plebeian branches and was an inveterate survivor of the civil wars. He hailed from Spain and had been one of my father's soldiers-one of the many who deserted. Nonetheless, I resolved to treat Balbus with gracious regard because many of those who would come with us to Mauretania were veterans of Actium. Some of them might remember my father kindly and be well disposed to me. So I said, "Good greetings, Lucius Cornelius."

In reply, the stout man unfurled a glorious purple cloak over my knees. "Queen Selene, I bought this for you with the riches of my plantations in North Africa," he boasted. The cloth flowed over me like liquid and I couldn't help but test the smoothness of it between my fingers. "I hope your husband will make me richer still by keeping the barbarians off my land!"

Some laughed at Balbus's comments, but most of our guests stared with slack-jawed amazement at the costly gift. The cloak had been dipped several times in the ruinously expensive Tyrian purple dye and the covetous glances of the crowd gave me the impression that the garment was worth a small city. Even the emperor seemed impressed, motioning for me to join him on his couch. "Come show me!"

Normally an abstemious eater, Augustus today ate with gusto. He feasted upon dormice seasoned with honey and poppy seeds. He poured a generous amount of the peppery fish sauce called garum on his eggs. As he ate, I balanced unnaturally on the farthest edge of his couch with the garment clutched in my lap, my fingers tracing the golden embroidered edge. Augustus didn't glance up at me until he'd finished chewing. "This purple cloak is ostentatious, isn't it? It suits your tastes, Selene. Like your mother, you have a fondness for Eastern decadence."

I didn't hear a note of displeasure in his voice, but I was always wary when he mentioned my mother. The pipers and laughter guarded our conversation from eavesdroppers. Still, I lowered my voice. "Augustus, I'm sorry if I offended you with my bridal costume yesterday."

He examined the cloak more closely, or pretended to. "As long as you remain loyal to me, I can forgive you such extravagances." His gray eyes met mine, thin lips twitching in the semblance of a smile, and I could see that my performance at the wedding had flattered his vanity and lifted his spirits. Was it only my imagination that his eyes roamed over me in a way that was anything but fatherly? I wished the wicked notion away, trying to convince myself it was born only of the vicious suggestion Juba had made the night before. "Don't you care for your breakfast, Selene? I haven't seen you eat."

I pulled my shawl over my shoulders in sudden awareness of Juba's frosty scowl from across the room. What would he have me do? Refuse to sit by Augustus when summoned? "I'm not hungry, Caesar."

"Why not? What could trouble you? Haven't I given you everything a girl could ever ask for?"

No. He hadn't given me Egypt, but I wasn't so foolish as to remind him of it now. Glancing around the room at the guests, I saw some of them whisper to one another behind jeweled hands, their eyes sliding in my direction. Did those low murmurs carry rumors about the emperor's fondness for me? How I wished Juba hadn't filled me with doubt!

"Let's play a game, Selene." Augustus had always tested the children in his household. Especially me. I was, after all, his most unlikely apprentice. "Excluding the two of us, who is the most important person here?"

It was a difficult question to answer. With all her powerful Claudian connections, the emperor's wife gave him the status that his mostly base blood denied him. He'd thought Livia important enough to marry while she was pregnant with another man's child, important enough to keep as his wife, though she couldn't bear him a child of his own. Still, I knew the emperor would never concede that a woman was more important than a man, so Livia couldn't be the answer to his riddle . . .

Propped up on elbows upon various couches were Roman senators, each of whom would publicly claim only to be the equal of his colleagues. They all harbored secret ambitions and it was tempting to choose one of the rich ones who'd returned recently with loot from the provinces. However, if the most important man in the room was the wealthiest, I must name Maecenas, the emperor's shrewd political adviser. He was a balding man with a hawkish face and served as the vizier over all the emperor's artists and propagandists. It was also rumored that Maecenas had a house in every city on the Mediterranean coastline and I didn't doubt it. Just as I was about to name him, the emperor broke in with, "Come, Selene, not even a guess?"

Something about his tone made me hesitate. This was my wedding breakfast. Perhaps Augustus meant to make some point about its significance. "Is it my husband, your newest client king?"

Augustus grunted. "No. Juba is loyal. Useful. A valuable friend. But he cannot be more important than a Roman."

That did narrow the choices. "Marcellus, then. Your nephew, your son-in-law, the last male of the Julii."

"Not yet. He'll still have to prove himself." Plucking a spear of green asparagus from a silver platter, Augustus pierced the air between us. "You disappoint me, Selene. If you wish to wield power, true power, you must learn from me. Always know the most important person in the room."

I took an agate cup of watered wine from a pa.s.sing slave to reconsider my answer, and peered over its striated rim. By the entryway, Agrippa shifted from foot to foot, eager to leave. He was the emperor's trusted soldier and strategist, the true enforcer of all his power. Aside from the emperor, he was likely the most important person in the room, but I was suddenly hesitant to say so. Indeed, the banquet was filled with more luminaries than I could name, and I hesitated to set one above the other without knowing the emperor's purpose for fear of condemning a man as a rival. At my hesitation, the emperor growled. "Too slow, Selene! The answer is Lucius Cornelius Balbus, the man who gave you this fine purple garment. He'll be accompanying you to Mauretania and he's the most important person here because of what he represents."

"So, it was a trick question." Then again, with the emperor, they always were.

"You're clever enough to grasp it. Balbus is a veteran. The loyalty of the legions has been at the core of my victories. Now all these ambitious soldiers need to be settled and appeased. My veterans will be there for you to call upon if the natives rise up, but you'll need to win their confidence. Otherwise, I'm better off making Mauretania a Roman province."

"I dispute none of that," I said, finally settling upon my own answer. "But I think the most important person here is Julia."

"Julia?" He laughed as if I'd told some grand jest.

I braved explaining myself. "You need her because of what she represents. Haven't you called Rome yet another wayward daughter for you to govern? When citizens measure how you treat Julia, they gauge what kind of father you'll be to the empire." I said this both because I believed it and because I noticed the way Julia and Iullus flirted, feeding one another grapes at the far end of the hall, laughing at some private joke between them. Julia's arrangement with her husband had filled me with foreboding. There might come a time when the emperor wished to punish Julia, and even if he forgot all paternal love for her, perhaps he'd remember her political significance if I pointed it out to him now.

Augustus shifted to face me, letting the asparagus fall back to his plate. "You're right about one thing. Everyone is always measuring me, judging me. Thanks to your twin, this city is filled with malcontents, agitating to steal from me all that I've won. Look at these people eating my food and availing themselves of my hospitality as if they weren't waiting for me to stumble . . ."

I shouldn't let him dwell on those who resented his power. It made him paranoid and vengeful. "They'll praise your name when the grain flows again and that's something I can make happen as Queen of Mauretania."

"You're too sure of yourself. Mauretania isn't like Egypt. It's uncivilized. You and Juba could fail to turn it into the breadbasket and port of trade I need . . ."

Because no one was listening, I dared to say, "But if we succeed, you must agree that I could rule Egypt even better."

He caught me with a shrewd sideways glance, and for a moment I worried that I'd pushed too far. Then he laughed. "You'd think I'd tire of your single-minded greed, Selene, but if you ever ceased angling for things out of your grasp, I'd worry you were up to some treachery . . ." He leaned back, eyes searching the crowd. "Sadly, I seem to have overestimated your twin's affection for you. I hoped Helios might interrupt your wedding or try to smuggle himself into the breakfast, where my guards could catch him."

With the emperor, there were always layers upon layers of intrigue. I found it strangely comforting to know that I'd been used as bait for my brother. Not long ago, incensed that Helios had escaped the imperial compound and outraged at rebellion in Egypt, the emperor had insisted Helios be denounced before the Senate as a traitor and enemy of Rome. Since then, his temper had cooled and he'd changed his mind. There were those who said Helios hadn't run away at all; that Augustus had simply had him disappeared. I desperately needed to believe otherwise, so I took comfort in the idea that the emperor was still laying snares. "You want to capture Helios here?"

"You should want it too. I've put out that the rebellion in Thebes is only a tax revolt. I've kept your twin's name out of it, so that I may be merciful to him and to Egypt, but I've done this only for your sake." I didn't believe that it was for my sake. Legions were still bogged down in Spain, Egypt was rising up, and the Republican faction in Rome grew increasingly restless. There might be another civil war if my father's old partisans knew that the son of Antony and Cleopatra was in rebellion. Those who knew the prophecies that a savior would come to purge Rome by fire might see in Helios the bringer of a Golden Age. Consequently, the emperor gained nothing by acknowledging Helios as his enemy; it was far more advantageous for my twin to simply vanish. "Make no mistake, Selene. If the Prefect of Egypt can't put down this rebellion in Thebes, I'll ask you and Juba to raise legions in Mauretania. You'll help me end this."

He thought he could make me fight against my own brother and my own people. I could never let it come to that. Fortunately, I was spared the need to reply when the emperor's poet rose to recite some verses from the Aeneid-a special piece of propaganda the emperor was keen to have him finish. Virgil had been working on the epic longer than I'd been in Rome, like Penelope at the loom, weaving words by day, and striking them out at night. The Aeneid told the story of Aeneas, the defeated Trojan who abandoned the powerful Carthaginian queen Dido. Ah, yes, dutiful Aeneas, unmoved by the plea of a pleasure-seeking, G.o.ddessworshipping foreign queen. It was a scarcely veiled condemnation of my mother and father, and I loathed this poem. But when Virgil finished his recitation and the applause died down, the emperor's eyes were filled with tears. He liked to affect emotion in a crowd like this, to persuade them that in his chest beat a compa.s.sionate heart. He was a showman; if this poem touched something inside him, it was his ambition.

It was then that Virgil introduced his friend Crinagoras of Mytilene, whom I knew by reputation to be a master epigrammatist. Crinagoras was sleight of build, with soft, almost feminine features, and when he smiled, his warm eyes crinkled at the corners. "I'm pleased to meet you," I said when he bowed before me. "Your name precedes you, Crinagoras."

"As well it should, Your Majesty," the little man said with a boastful smile. "Think of the esteem my reputation will bring to your royal court. You should hire me at once before some wiser monarch steals me away."

I'd never met such a bombastic self-promoter. "Are you asking for a position?"

Crinagoras smirked. "There's no need to ask. You're already charmed, desperate to have me glorify your reign."

I stifled my laugh because I knew better than to let a courtier think he had the upper hand. "And why should we hire a court poet when there's more serious work to be done in Mauretania?"

"Majesty, you must have a court poet, or no one will ever know about your serious work," he replied, and I followed his eyes to Virgil, catching his meaning at once. The emperor was already seeing to it that his rule would be immortalized in a way that suited him. He was shaping history and making certain that he had a voice in it.

I wanted a voice too but said, "We'll have to hear your work before we can make a decision of such consequence."

"How very fortunate that I've already composed a toast in honor of your marriage!" Crinagoras waved his hand theatrically and the wedding guests gathered round. It was just the opportunity I'd been waiting for. The chance to slip away from the emperor's couch and return to Juba's side. The musicians quieted, and everyone leaned in as the poet recited, "Great bordering regions of the world which the full stream Nile separates from the black Ethiopians. Ye have by marriage made a destiny common to both, turning Egypt and North Africa into one country. May the children of these princes ever again rule with unshaken dominion over both lands."

At these words, my body tightened like a bowstring. I was the rightful Queen of Egypt and through this poem, Crinagoras reminded everyone of that fact. Even the emperor seemed stunned by the man's nerve. With his gray eyes narrowed, Augustus said, "Crinagoras, how good of you to remember the majesty of Selene's past."

"And her future," the poet said boldly. I might have choked on my wine if I hadn't already swallowed it. Did the little poet care nothing for his own safety? I had the emperor's goodwill, but I couldn't protect him. Still, Crinagoras went on. "Isn't the House of Julii powerful enough to encompa.s.s all the greatness of the Ptolemies?"

It was exactly what I wished the emperor to believe-that he should restore me to Egypt where my power could only swell his own. I couldn't have fashioned better propaganda if I'd tried. But I hadn't tried and I worried when the emperor turned to me as if this were a plot. "Ah," Augustus said. "You see, Juba and Selene? Your match has captured the imaginations of the people; they find it fitting. Your marriage is the kind of news that should spread all over the empire. Even to Thebes."

Even to my twin, I thought. The emperor wanted Helios to know that I married Juba. He wanted Helios to believe that I'd betrayed him. And perhaps I had.

Four.

AT length, the banqueters filled their napkins with treats to bring home. Meanwhile, Juba and I stood side by side, making our farewells to the guests. "I'd like to offer Crinagoras a place as our court poet," I said.

Without looking at me, Juba replied, "Crinagoras is no Virgil; he lacks a grand artistic vision."

"Yet his wedding verse today indicates that he has political vision. Did you disapprove?"

"Of the poem? No." Juba's jaw tightened. My new husband obviously disapproved of something. Most probably me. "Selene, if it pleases you, I'll extend an invitation to Crinagoras. Just be ready to travel at dawn. I'm going into the city tonight and can't say when I'll return." Then he turned with a swirl of his toga and walked away.

So it was to be like this between us, then.

Eager to work the knots of tension from my shoulders after the festivities, I hastened to the private baths, where steam made my skin damp even before I undressed. Chryssa followed me into the water with her reed basket of sponges, oils, and sc.r.a.pers, just as she did the first day I'd come to Octavia's house. "Will Juba be joining you, my lady?"

"No," I said, trying not to sound embarra.s.sed by the question. Egyptian weddings involved a ceremonial bath, but I found it difficult to imagine being naked with Juba after this morning's cool words. It was only natural that he'd want to say good-bye to his favorite teachers, fellow scholars, and dearest friends. Besides, Juba had-in some sense-given me a reprieve on our wedding night and I ought to be grateful. Soon, though, he'd expect to claim me as his wife. Nervously, I fanned my fingers over my belly beneath the water. I had to know what to prepare for because I didn't want to let out an undignified cry at the crucial moment. "Chryssa, when the emperor took you to his bed, was it painful?"

For a moment, the trickling of fresh water out of the fountain mouth of a gilded lion was the only noise in the room. "He-he wasn't," she stammered. "He wasn't physically cruel."

No. That wouldn't be the emperor's way. The deepest wounds were those he inflicted on the inside. And I was no better, for I'd been thoughtless and selfish to ask her this question. She'd gone unwilling to the bed of Augustus and been horribly ill used. Why had I made her remember it? I turned to apologize when I saw Chryssa clutching the strigil. It was only a sc.r.a.per, meant to slough off sweat and oil. It wasn't very sharp, but Chryssa's white-knuckled grip made it cut into her skin. "You're bleeding," I said softly. She hissed as if only now realizing it and let her hand drop into the water between us, where the red droplets of her anguish mixed with the bathwater. "He won't touch you again, Chryssa. I'll take you away with me to Africa, and you'll never have to see him again." Her expression went carefully neutral in the way of a slave and together we watched the reed basket of sponges float across the murky water, like a sailing ship gone adrift. "You don't want to go with me," I said, realizing it for the first time. "You want to stay here, in Rome?"

"It's just that I have a sister," Chryssa said. "I wish I wasn't leaving Phoebe behind."

I was being forced to leave my little brother Philadelphus; I didn't have to imagine Chryssa's inner torment. "Maybe I can find a way for Phoebe to come with us . . ."

"No. There's nothing to be done. My sister belongs to Lady Julia now and considers herself quite fortunate. She's had cruel mistresses before who beat her with the lash. She wouldn't want to risk her new station."

Such were the terrors of slaves. Chryssa's back was also striped with scars from the lash, for she hadn't always belonged to me. "I'll find a way to let you stay here with your sister, then. Perhaps Augustus will allow me to grant you your freedom. I mean to do it anyway, the moment we get to Mauretania."

I was surprised to hear her gasp with dismay. "What would become of me? Do you think it's easy for a woman on her own in Rome? How would I feed myself ?"

I felt foolish and confused. "You're a skilled ornatrix. Besides, I have money now. I'd help you."

Chryssa seemed angry, or at least as angry as a slave ever allowed herself to seem. "Do you know how many barbarian slaves have been brought into the city? It would be cheaper to buy ten of them than to pay me a wage. I was once Chryssa, slave of the emperor's wife. Then, Chryssa, slave of the Egyptian prince Helios. Now I'm Chryssa, slave of the Queen of Mauretania. If you set me free, I'm n.o.body at all."

"That isn't true. You'll always be Chryssa, a child of Isis."

My G.o.ddess opened her arms to slaves, and thus had many followers even where the conscript fathers had deemed hers a dangerous foreign cult. But Chryssa only said, "Without you here, Rome is no place for those who honor the G.o.ddess."

I bit my lip, worried about what might happen to the worshippers of Isis in my absence. Until I could return Isis to the throne of Egypt, perhaps I could make a safe haven for her worshippers in Mauretania. I tried to offer Chryssa some comfort. "My new kingdom isn't so far. With the right winds, Mauretania is just days away. I promise you can visit Rome-"

"No." She glanced over her shoulder as if she could see Livia and Augustus and all the others who had tortured her. "I'll never want to come back."

FOR weeks now, I'd been consumed with the wedding and all that attended it. It was only now, in the quiet aftermath of the celebration, that my imminent departure became a painful reality. Knowing this to be my very last day in Rome, I ushered Philadelphus to the schoolroom. Because my littlest brother was far more p.r.o.ne to pranks and frivolity than a Ptolemy ought to be, I rummaged through the scroll-cases that lined the wall, searching for parchment and vellum works on history and mathematics that I thought it especially important he study. With a roll of his eyes, Philadelphus said, "You aren't my tutor. Let's not spoil our last hours together with serious things."

I winced, knowing that he was no longer the baby brother who hid in my skirts. No longer the boy who cried with fear when the Romans took us prisoner, nor the boy who shook with sweat and fever. He was eleven years old now, as old as I'd been when I came to Rome. Even so, leaving him here as a hostage for my good behavior felt like the worst kind of betrayal and I hated myself for it even if I had no other choice. "Promise me that you'll study hard to make yourself useful to the emperor, Philadelphus."

"Oh, stop fretting," Philadelphus said with a brave smile. "Come be a sister to me. We'll play knucklebones until Juba returns." Like my father, Philadelphus possessed an easygoing charm. With his thick auburn curls and aquiline nose, he looked every bit the Roman boy, and I hoped this would protect him when I was gone. I let his brave smile melt my resistance and followed him back to the bedchambers that he'd once shared with Helios. We sat together on his sleeping couch and the cat jumped up between us, watching my brother rattle the tali dice inside a wooden cup. "Are you going to take Bast with you, Selene?"

Reaching down to pet her soft fur, I remembered that our cat belonged more to Helios than to either of us. Maybe that's why I so badly wanted to bring her to Africa with me. Now I pushed away that selfish urge. "She should stay with you and watch over you . . . You know that I don't want to go without you, don't you? I don't want to leave you, Philadelphus!"

"But you must," my brother said, fingering the Collar of Gold amulet at his throat. Like the jade frog I wore, it was the last thing my mother had ever given him. The moment she put it around his neck, he seemed to possess the gift of sight. "I've seen it in the Rivers of Time, Selene. You always leave and I always stay in Rome."

Philadelphus's hidden power was strong, but I refused to believe he saw truly. "You're wrong. Someday, we're both going back to Egypt."

He smiled weakly, swirling the dice. "I think I've almost seen it that way once . . . Nothing in the future is certain but the more often I see something, the more likely it's true. I've seen you become a great queen. You help to bring about a Golden Age. You feed the people and save Isis."

I saw his eyes slide away. "Is that the only thing you've seen? Will I be forced to fight Helios?"

He shrugged, letting the dice fall to the mattress between us. All ones. The Vulture. The lowest throw. "I don't know, but sometimes I've seen that you're a cause of war in Egypt . . . and that your life ends too soon."

We both shuddered and I scooped up the dice, putting them back in the cup and laying my hand over the top. "Don't look into the Rivers of Time anymore, Philadelphus. You know how the Romans feel about magic. I won't be here to protect you."

"It's not something I can control." I knew what he meant, for my own powers-when I had them-were wild and beyond my grasp. Hieroglyphic messages from Isis carved themselves into my hands when I touched the blood of the faithful, but I hadn't been able to control the winds that sometimes swirled when I was upset. I'd used them once, when Livia slapped me, to throw her to the ground, but since my bargain with the emperor, the winds had been still.

"Just be careful, then, Philadelphus. Write me letters. Lots of letters. If I don't hear from you, I'll a.s.sume the worst." He must understand how fragile his safety was. As he grew older, he'd be seen as a danger-a son of Antony and Cleopatra for all the emperor's enemies to exploit. "We're the last of the Ptolemies. Do whatever you must to survive. If you ever need to betray me, I'll never blame you for it. If I fall from the emperor's favor and he asks you to condemn me, don't hesitate!"

He jerked back as if I'd slapped him. "Selene, I would never betray you or condemn you. Just as I know that you'd never betray Helios." Now Philadelphus was crying and I was consumed by guilt. How would I ever leave him behind? They'd have to tear him from my arms in front of everyone.

"If you see me off in the morning, I'll fall apart. I'll simply fall apart."

"Then we'll say our good-byes tonight," he agreed. "We'll stay up all night together. I won't sleep."

But he was still a boy. Hours later, with Bast curled up under his chin, sleep finally closed his eyes and I let that be our parting.