“And they’d believe her?” Nina’s fierce eyes, like jade buttons, held him in place. He had barely talked to this woman before, and now to speak so bluntly, like they were old friends… or as he imagined Phoebe would be speaking to him if she were here. Phoebe was always the logical one to poke holes in his fantasies-at least as far as Dad was concerned. “Why would they believe a woman who claims to be seeing her dead husband?”
“Because she-I could tell them where to look! I’ve seen landmarks that they could search for. A river by a hill. The layout of buildings on the hillside. They could triangulate by the shadows or the direction of the sun, anything!”
Nina shrugged, stood up and stretched like a cat. A silver necklace sparkled and drew his attention to the curves around the V in her dress. The eye-tattoos on her bare shoulders seemed to stare at him. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I am.” Caleb turned from her and plodded over to the fountain. The chaotic bubbling and splashing calmed his nerves. She had him thinking, questioning, second-guessing his anger. He glanced sideways and for a moment Helen looked over and met his eyes. Something passed between them, a mutual softening of emotions maybe.
Then Nina was at his side, digging into her purse for change. “One Euro,” she said, looking at the shiny coin. “Whatever that’s worth these days.” She tossed it in, closed her eyes and whispered to herself.
“What did you wish for?” Caleb asked.
She gave him a wink. “Not supposed to tell, but I’ll let you know. I wished that your mother gets her wish. That we find it.”
They’re all the same, Caleb thought. Every one of them.
“We need to find it,” Nina whispered. “So we can go home.”
“What?”
“I want to go home,” she said. “I don’t care about the treasure. I don’t even want to know what it is anymore. I just want to go home. I miss my family. We have a cherry tree orchard in Virginia. This time of year the air is filled with the scent flowering blossoms, the buzzing of bees, and the sound the wind makes through them at night.”
Caleb blinked, gaping at Nina in a new light, as if the sun striking her features now revealed an even deeper beauty emerging from the shade. “I had apple orchards,” he said.
“Really?”
“Apple trees. Back home, in Upstate New York. Haven’t you been there, with the group? Waxman said he’s been using the house as a base.”
Nina blinked at him, smiling. “Nope, haven’t had the pleasure. I’m new, but it sounds divine. Bet you had some delicious apple pies every fall.”
“Twice a day,” Caleb said. “After lunch and for dessert. At least until Dad left and Mom, well… she got caught up in this crowd. No offense.”
“None taken. I’m-well, this is all new to me.”
“So you really can see things?”
Nina blushed. “Yeah, sometimes, but I don’t think I’m all that good at it. Can’t control it very well. Still, Waxman seems to think I can help.”
“I’m sure you can,” Caleb said. “But just be careful of him, Nina. He’s… not what he seems.”
“Really?” Her voice cracked. “How do you know? Did you see something?”
Caleb shook his head. “No. Don’t worry about it. I’m probably just overreacting.” He looked over Nina’s shoulder to where Waxman was holding Helen’s shoulders and talking in animated tones.
“Sorry about your father,” Nina said. “I heard he was interested in the Pharos too. He would have loved to be here.”
“He came to Alexandria a couple times right after I was born. Did a lot of research and even made a couple dives himself. At least he told me that much. Sometimes, while we were up in our little lighthouse-a museum now, really, since they put up a new one a mile away at the pier-he’d tell me all kinds of stories about the Pharos, about Alexandria at the time of its construction, about Sostratus and the Great Library and the temples and everything.”
Nina folded her arms, chilled suddenly. “Maybe you’ll see it soon. Like it was in your mind.”
“Maybe,” Caleb said, remembering the all-too brief glimpse he’d had while nearly drowning, and his gaze grew distant.
Nina absently scuffed the sole of her sandal over the thin layer of gravel on the flagstones. “What are you thinking about now?” she asked.
Caleb blinked, smiled. “Actually, thinking about Dad still. How he’d take us out to see the other landmark historic property on our land: ‘Old Rusty.’”
“Old what?”
“Rusty, it was my sister’s favorite thing. An ancient, rusted lightship. You know, the kind they used to send out in the foggiest of nights, with lanterns on its masts, to guide ships into the harbors. Phoebe loved the sound its hull made when we threw stones against it, and then we’d run before anyone could catch us. We used to sneak aboard, make up stories and pretend to be in great sea battles, captain and first mate, raiding the high seas.”
Nina sighed. “Sounds like you had a one-of-a-kind childhood. But you’re right, you should have been allowed to grow up there without racing all over the world with your mother.”
Caleb smiled. “Well, too late now.”
Nina closed her eyes and turned her face toward the sun and breathed in its warmth, then looked back to where Helen and Waxman were still arguing. “Do you think we’ll find the way in to the lighthouse vault?”
“Nope. I think old Sostratus hid it too well.”
Nina looked depressed. “Then they better accept defeat soon.”
“They won’t. My mother won’t, either. She’s obsessed.”
“So was your father.”
Caleb winced as if she had reached over and smacked him across the face. He thought for a moment, remembering his father’s eyes, the tenderness in his voice, the way he would crack open a book, spread out its spine, and sometimes take a deep sniff of the pages, savoring the old smell of the paper. “Yes,” Caleb said, “but for a different reason. He didn’t want the treasure, didn’t care about money.” Caleb was getting excited, and felt a strange energy fueling his cells. “Dad just wanted knowledge. He loved everything about ancient Alexandria, and he wanted to understand the lighthouse completely. Just as he was intrigued with the library and…” A strange connection tugged at him-a spark of a great inferno waiting to be ignited. Suddenly he was certain that his father had known more than he’d let on.
The sun ducked behind a cloud and the courtyard flickered into shadow. In mid-thought, nearly at a revelation, he noticed someone watching them, standing in the opposite section from Helen and Waxman, beside a pillar in the deeper shadows.
Who is that? How long has he been there?
He waited, narrow and trembling, with long arms and ragged hair, so out of place amidst the tourists who just walked by, snapping their pictures, ignoring him.
Caleb’s blood went cold and the hair on his arms stood on end. He shuddered.
“Caleb?”
“Do you see him?” he tried to raise his arm to point but couldn’t.
“See who?” Nina asked, whipping her head around.
The sun reappeared, dazzling off the stone tiles and the limestone pillars. Caleb blinked and the figure was gone.
Someone’s throat cleared. Caleb looked up and saw Waxman with Helen standing beside him. “Let’s go,” he said. “We’ll see if the team has fared any better.”
When he walked past, Caleb looked at his mother and saw that she had taken off her glasses and was staring across the courtyard, squinting.
“What?” he asked.
She shook her head, blinked and put her glasses back on. “Nothing, come on.” She took one last look around. “I still think what you saw in your dream is the key, Caleb.”
“You do?”
She nodded. “But it’s just so frustrating. The Pharos is taunting us from the past, giving us scraps and
