The Chamber of Ten

in Nico waiting for just that.

The boat hit a small wave and Geena swayed, shifting her foot to regain balance. A hand held her elbow, strong and firm, and she glanced sidelong at Domenic. He smiled sadly, and in his eyes she saw something that she clung to, storing away for future reference in case the future became too harsh: the ability to understand. When she’d asked him to gather the soaked remains of Volpe’s heart and transport them out of Venice, he had not questioned her request, strange though it had been. She was beginning to suspect that perhaps he loved her, but it was more than that. Domenic could see past the normal and into the incredible, and maybe in his mind the line between the two had always been blurred.

“How are you?” he asked. A simple question with so many answers.

“I’m bearing up,” she said.

“And Nico?”

She shrugged, because she didn’t know. Nico’s future was not yet defined. If Volpe kept his word, today would be the day. But she could barely let herself hope.

“Well, it’s a shame about him and the university,” Domenic said softly. The sound of the boat’s engine and its hull striking the low waves covered his voice, so that only Geena could hear. “He’s a clever guy.”

“He is,” Geena said. “He’ll find his own way.”

“So …” Domenic said. He still had a hold on her elbow, and she found herself comforted by his contact. Domenic was strong and firm, and there was no ambiguity about him. “So, that other thing? Those … remains I moved out for you? How did all that work out?”

It didn’t, Geena needed to say, because the old magician’s spirit it belonged to lied, and he’s tenacious, and after we’d killed the Doges and those other people he promised to go and … But she could tell him nothing of that, of course. Not now. Maybe later.

“It worked out fine,” she said, and the boat nudged against the jetty.

Ramus’ coffin was already on San Michele, and there were hundreds of mourners milling around the entrance to the cemetery as they awaited notice that the service was about to begin. Geena saw many students and lecturers she knew from the university, and plenty more she did not. Ramus’ family was also there—a large group of adults and children keeping close together like an island in the sea of mourners. There was much crying, and little laughter. That more than anything made Geena sad, and brought on her first tears of the day. Ramus deserved much better than this. If he’d been killed in a cave-in while on a dig, or the collapse of an ancient building he was studying, perhaps the mood here, though heavy at the tragic death of someone so young, might have also been lifted to celebrate the fact that he’d died doing what he loved.

But he had been stabbed to death in a cafe by a mysterious assailant. He’d bled out on the floor waiting for paramedics to arrive, with Sabrina holding his hands and Domenic struggling to stem the bleeding from his many wounds. That was no way for such a bright light to be extinguished.

Geena walked close to Domenic, looking out for Nico. She knew he would be here, because they’d arranged it. They had spoken that morning, mind to mind. They no longer had any need for phones.

“Quite a turnout,” Domenic said.

“He deserves it.”

“What happened, Geena?” he asked, quietly again. Behind Domenic, Tonio glanced at her, and she wondered if he’d heard. She smiled over Domenic’s shoulder and her boss smiled back, but there was a distance in his expression that had nothing to do with today’s funeral. She knew that he would never fully trust her again. The ongoing investigation into the Mayor’s murder had been linked by the police to the fight at the cafe, and Ramus’ death. And one of the abiding mysteries of that evening revolved around Geena. Who had the men been who’d dragged her away? So far, she’d stuck with the insistence that she didn’t know. But Tonio was not stupid.

“Domenic, one day soon we can talk,” she said, and she stepped forward to hug him tight.

“And that book you want locked away at the university?”

“A very old book about forgotten magic. It’s got to be kept secure and it deserves to be studied. But I need full access, at any time.”

She felt him tense, sensed his confusion, and then she felt the moment that Domenic started trusting her again.

“But is it over?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, and she thought, For everyone but me. At that, he returned her hug. It felt good.

Moments before the service began she sensed Nico nearby. I’m here, he said in her mind, and I have it.

Won’t you stand with me?

I’m not sure that’s for the best. She listened for Nico’s true voice, and Volpe’s slurring of his meaning, but heard neither. He was speaking with her plain and simple.

But—she began.

Here, he said. And she felt his hand in hers. Just because we’re not standing side by side doesn’t mean we can’t be together.

Geena sobbed, once, and as well as Nico’s hand in hers, she felt Domenic’s comforting touch on her shoulder.

After the service came the burial, and she was surprised to find Howard Finch positioning himself to her left. He gave her a soft smile, which she returned, and then they stood in silence while Geena’s student and friend was buried. The crowd of mourners was so large that many people found themselves standing on or beside other graves, careful to avoid the gravestones, peering from behind larger tombs, and filling the narrow pathways that crisscrossed this part of the island. The markers here were basic and mostly new; older remains were stored in metal ossuaries and kept in elaborate tombs elsewhere on the island. Even here, Ramus’ mortal remains would not be at rest for some time. Geena only hoped that his spirit was becalmed, wherever it might be now. As a young woman, she’d always had doubts about such things, even though her life was committed to tracing communications of the past with the present. Now she was much more of a believer.

As the burial ended and the crowd slowly began to disperse, she felt Nico’s influence leaving. I’ll be waiting, he said, and she told him she’d be there soon.

“Dr. Hodge, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Finch said at last. “He was a bright lad. Terrible. Tragic.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped at his forehead, obviously uncomfortable in the suit. The sun was blazing. Geena wondered when it was that she’d got used to such heat.

“Thanks, Howard. And please, call me Geena.”

“Geena,” he said, nodding. “Well.”

“Well?”

He grimaced at her, shrugged, and she knew he had to talk business. Of course. “Tonio tells me you’ll be back at work in a week, and—”

“Sooner,” she said. “I’ll be back in two days.”

“Good. Good. And … after everything, I was still hoping we might be able to … work together?”

“Even though the Chamber is flooded again?”

Finch shrugged, mopping at his brow. He was losing his fight against sweat. “I still have some resources at my disposal,” he said.

“I don’t know,” Geena said, looking away, thinking of that granite disk, the cap on the well of Akylis. “The Chamber of Ten is dangerous. Surely you can use what footage you’ve already got, and focus the rest on the books themselves? Sabrina is a whiz with the camera. There’ll be footage of the books being examined, and plenty of time for interviews down the line.”

“I don’t have that much time.”

“All the more reason to just go with what you’ve got.”

During the several days since those events down in the Chamber, Nico had gently filled her in on what had happened. He’d never once asked her why she had fled—he didn’t have to, because the fear had been rich and hot in his own mind as well—but he had insisted on letting her know what happened afterward. In case, he had said, and she’d known what he meant. In case Volpe stays for good.

Strange that it was Volpe also saying that.

After the deaths had come the cleansing fire. The contagion in the Doges was wiped out, and Volpe had also