And she was grown-up enough to admit that she waved for Chloe to climb the stairs first so she could admire the view.

  Chloe paused. “I just thought of something. That was the Sphinx I saw at the sanctuary, wasn’t it?” Her eyes went huge. “The actual Sphinx. Like, the Sphinx.” She couldn’t seem to say it enough.

  Helen bit back a chuckle. “Not the statue that most people think of, but the actual entity, yes.”

  “Guardian of Thebes, riddle-telling Sphinx.”

  “Indeed.” And the Sphinx would be tickled by the awe in her voice. “When you meet her again, ask for her autograph. She’ll love you forever.”

  Chloe’s smile was like a full moon emerging from the clouds before she turned and bounded up the stairs.

  It wasn’t lost on Helen that she’d said when, not if. Gods, the Sphinx would have something to say about that, too.

  On the bridge, Eudore sat in the pilot’s chair, steering the ship roughly toward the coordinates Ali and David had come up with. Helen led the others down a short flight of stairs inside the yacht to the large dining room with its highly polished, circular table.

  Fatma whistled. “Swanky.” She pulled out a chair that would let her see both exits. Smart.

  Damian sat next to her but turned his back on the room to stare out the windows. Not so smart, but Helen supposed he had his uses.

  Polyanthus the troll lifted one massive leg over the back of a chair and stepped over it to sit, the wood creaking under his weight. It wouldn’t matter if he could see the exits or not. He would have been slow to turn if someone did come in, but most weapons would bounce off his cranium anyway.

  Robin took the chair between Polyanthus and Fatma, laying their ax on the table with a clang. Helen assumed Maurice stayed with them. All the fair folk seemed to glean comfort from being near one another.

  Chloe hesitated, seemingly looking around the room, clearly waiting for Helen to sit. Once she did, Chloe grabbed the seat next to her, forcing Maera to take the one between Chloe and Damian.

  Helen fought the urge to sigh as they all looked at her. It had been a long time since she’d led a council of war, and each time, she’d hoped it would be the last.

  Athena, please let it be so.

  She paused. And not because we’ve all died. Though Ramses’s presence signaled that death might not put a stop to such councils, either.

  Maera cleared her throat. “Some of us can’t be out of the water too long.”

  Helen laid her palms flat on the cool table and began to lay out what they knew so far. For two hours, they theorized, guessed, and suspected. Ideas ranged freely but kept butting into the concrete walls of the unknown. Number of enemies? Unknown. Full capabilities? They could only guess. Exact location? They had a few to choose from.

  Even the information currently leading them could end in a fat lot of nothing, wild-goose chase number two. If it wasn’t, their destination might be a mere stopover with nothing indicating where to go from there.

  It had felt so good to finally be in motion, but with so many unknowns, this whole trip felt desperately premature.

  But they had to do something.

  From what the sanctuary residents remembered of the attacking boats, they were smaller than yachts or even large fishing boats, more like the Zodiac from the Kareems’ boat or the small ship-to-shore craft on Helen’s yacht. That spoke of a smaller range.

  The Sphinx had thought they’d used a large helicopter to transport Charybdis’s vault, but since there was no tracking that for now, their best bet was several small islands or a secluded port on Zile-de-Deyès, a larger, inhabited island to the southwest of the sanctuary.

  Helen didn’t want to waste time going to each island. If the nereids split up and asked the local dolphins for help, they could reconnoiter the smaller ones easily, but even with superspeed, it would still take time. No matter how meticulously she planned it, if they wanted to make sure the small islands were clear, they wouldn’t arrive in Zile-de-Deyès until well after nightfall.

  Stupid laws of physics.

  “What’s wrong with getting there after dark?” Chloe asked. “Wouldn’t it help with the, you know, sneaking?” She still went adorably red when everyone stared at her.

  Helen shook her head. “Most of the island is perfectly safe, but some of the ports, those infamous for turning a blind eye to smuggling, don’t really come alive until dark. They’ll be busier and more dangerous.”

  “Know a lot about smugglers, do we?” Fatma asked, her mouth twisting as if she couldn’t decide on a smile or a frown. She seemed a lot friendlier than she’d been during the wyvern caper, but a hint of defensive anger still peppered nearly everything she said.

  “Do we?” Helen said, giving her accusing stare right back to her. “I imagine such contacts have been useful to both of us.”

  Fatma managed to roll her eyes and look a little sheepish. Helen had the strangest urge to encourage her and Ligeia to spend some time together just to see if their collective scorn could create its own gravity. “Yeah, fine. It just sucks that the government is either taking bribes from the smugglers and turning a blind eye or ‘cracking down’ on crime just to shake the criminals down for more money.”

  Helen nodded. The circle went round and round. She had seen it all. “It can make the cost of doing business hard to anticipate.”

  “Even harder for the people who live there,” Fatma said, no doubt building up to a good rant.

  Damian clapped once, making everyone jump and neatly yanking Fatma’s soapbox out from under her. “Okay, so we’re relaxing tonight and heading into town tomorrow. Great.” He smiled brightly and looked around the table. “Who’s up for what? Cards? Dancing? Casual sex? What?”

  Helen stood before they could start divvying up activities. She didn’t care what they did, but she did not want to know. “I’ll be on the flybridge.” The look Chloe gave her said she’d be following soon.

  Whew. What in the gods’ names would she have said if Chloe had suggested a little demonic orgy? The fact that it was even a possibility in Helen’s mind proved how little they still knew each other.

  In the small flybridge, she leaned her elbows on the rail. She shouldn’t be thinking of Chloe or smuggling or orgies. She needed to focus on the near future. The sanctuary had suffered attacks and setbacks before but never anything on this scale, never anything they couldn’t handle alone. If she didn’t have enough information about what they might find on Zile-de-Deyès tomorrow, she’d just have to plan for every contingency.

  Sure, because that was possible.

  When Chloe laid a warm hand on her back, Helen couldn’t even be angry at herself for taking comfort from it. “On the deck of the Kareems’ boat, it felt like my face was going to peel off from the speed,” Chloe said. “How do the nereids avoid that?”

  Helen snorted a laugh. “You can ask, but they might not tell you.”

  “You doing okay still?” Chloe asked. “If you need to talk…”

  Even with the vast difference in their ages, that did sound helpful. But Chloe also had thousands of years of experience for the asking. Helen focused on the space around Chloe, trying to see exactly where the pharaoh was.

  Chloe narrowed her eyes. “You looking for Ramses? I asked him to stay inside so we could talk. Should I get him?”

  “No.” Helen smiled. That tingly hum she always felt around Chloe was still there, only growing stronger the closer they stood, and it wasn’t because of Ramses’s presence. Not that she really believed that anymore. As recent events kept proving, perhaps she hadn’t seen everything the world had to offer.

  She kissed Chloe softly, not an explosion of passion like before—though that still waited below the surface—this was like a confirmation that what they shared was real. Even if it was still undefinable, a promise for later. If something dreadful happened, and they lost each other in this life, their souls would know each other still.

  As they parted, Chloe’s eyes shining with trust, Helen could almost hear the Sphinx labeling her thoughts romantic drivel, but she’d say it with a smile, and Helen resolved to carry that happy feeling with her.

  “Spend the night with me?” Helen asked gently, but before Chloe’s face could burst into flames, Helen placed a finger on her lips. “Talking, hoping, dreaming. I want to know everything about you.”

  Chloe went through so many expressions, it was like watching a film in a matter of seconds: setup, conflict, denouement. “I would love to.” Her eyes shone, her proud smile saying it would be an honor, though Helen felt graced with her presence, not the other way around. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d really looked forward to something like this. For the first time in centuries, there was more to live for than simple sanctuary.

  Chapter Thirty

  Zile-de-Deyès, a tropical paradise Chloe had only ever read about, and she’d be there in a few hours. It was one of those places she’d always wanted to go, like Paris or Tokyo or London. Exciting? Well, yeah, but she was still too wrapped up in the memories of last night to really care.

  She’d spent the night on one of the ship’s many balconies, though she wasn’t sure that was the right word. Porch didn’t seem to fit. And it didn’t matter because what it meant was being beside Helen in a lounge chair under a skyful of stars in the middle of the ocean. Romantic with a capital hell, yeah.

  They’d talked, laughed, shared a bottle of wine, and eaten fresh seafood that the nereids had caught. A few cuddles here, a few kisses there—not easy with the chair arms between them—and Chloe had eventually fallen asleep with her head on Helen’s shoulder.

  Well worth the crick in her neck. And waking up damp with dew. At least her clothes wouldn’t suffer. Helen had enough things onboard that she’d loaned Chloe some pj’s and a robe so she could save her ass-kicking “Lil’ Devil” shirt for today.

  She drifted belowdecks to find Ramses waiting in the living room, though it was as weird to think of a boat having a living room as it was to think of one having a porch. Someone had set up an iPad for him at a table, and he paused his show as she came down.

  “Good morning,” he said, smirking just a tad.

  She grabbed a mug of coffee from a carafe someone had left on a small table and dumped in copious amounts of sugar. “Morning,” she said around a sip. “I should probably change.” But the dampness hadn’t penetrated the fluffy robe, so she sat next to Ramses instead. “In a minute.”

  “Did you go for a swim?” His tone was teasing.

  “No. Slept outside.”

  “In someone else’s clothes?”

  “Helen loaned them to me.”

  “For your slumber party?”

  She set her mug down with a thump and faced his grin at last. “We didn’t have sex.”

  He lifted his hands, the picture of innocence. “I didn’t ask.”

  “You didn’t have to.” But now her bubble had burst, and the reality of the day could come swarming in. She’d fought ghosts, the odd creature or two, but this felt different. She’d never felt the weight of other people depending on her before. Maybe Ramses, but they leaned on each other. At the heart of this fight were people like her mom’s friends, who were still coming under attack, and the inhabitants of Helen’s sanctuary, many of whom were helpless in the face of violence.

  Who was she kidding? The person at the heart of her thoughts was Helen. If something happened to her, Chloe would feel the loss with a keenness she dreaded. Like the world had lost something, thousands of years of knowledge vanishing like a puff of smoke.

  “I can practically hear you thinking,” Ramses said.

  She shrugged. “Now I’m nervous and weirded out, the usual when we’re going looking for trouble.”

  His smile slipped. “I thought you’d be mooning over Helen for at least a few hours.”

  “I have never mooned and never will.”

  “Call it what you like.”

  “Falling in love?” came out before she even knew it was coming, but saying it felt both like a punch to the gut and a weight off her shoulders. She leaned her head back as a lovely floaty feeling wandered through her. “Holy shit, Ramses, I really could fall for her. Have fallen.”

  She expected at least an eye roll, but his smile was soft. “You’re the only one of us who’s even remotely surprised.”

  She glared. “After all the shit you’ve given me about getting close to her, you’re not going to read me the riot act for saying that? Hell, for feeling it?”

  He shook his head. “I’m resigned. I can no more stop you from falling in love than I can stop the sun from rising.”

  “I guess I feel a little like that.” She picked at the cuff of the white robe. “Like my feelings are happening so quickly, I don’t have any control over them. We got to know quite a bit about each other last night, but even before that, I felt like I’ve known her forever, and not just because of the history books.” She sighed. “You don’t think she has some kind of love power, do you?” Not that she bought that at all.

  “Did you come across one in your studies?”

  She shook her head. “But you know how vague myths can be.”

  He put his arms behind his head and stretched, his long legs hovering through another chair. “I feel so much magic from her that I can’t tell. It might be your godhoods reaching out to each other. She might not be aware of why her own feelings run deep, either.”

  Deep, that was the word for it. Chloe’s cheeks warmed. Their conversations last night had ranged from the shallow to the deep and back again. The real Helen, the one the history books didn’t know, had so many facets, she would have flummoxed a master jeweler. They’d talked for hours but had only scratched the surface, and deeper was just what Chloe wanted.

  She snorted at her own double entendre, but before Ramses could ask what was so funny, she stood. “I’m gonna change. We’ll be at Zile-de-Deyès soon.”

  Ramses stood, too. “Time to get our heads in the game.” His mouth twisted a bit, his nemes disappearing for a moment as he ran his hand through his hair. “I’m happy for you, Chlo.”

  “Are you?” God, why did it mean so much?

  Yeah, you know why, she answered herself.

  “Of course.” He put a hand to his chest. “The father in me must add a pledge of bloody vengeance should she mistreat your heart.”

  “Duly noted. Thanks.” She was going to bawl like a baby if she didn’t get out of there and go change.

  Afterward, she met up with the others on the deck as the ship approached Zile-de-Deyès. Helen’s smuggling contacts used a harbor on the southern tip of the island, and if the people who’d attacked the sanctuary were moving weapons around, that was probably the harbor they used, too, but no one thought it was a good idea to just go sailing in there.

  They docked at a marina a few miles away with other pleasure craft. Helen said a bribe might be in order to get them past customs, but Damian’s power took care of that, and the swooning customs officer said they could do whatever they wished.

  A couple of the nereids stayed with the boat while the others went swimming around to the destination harbor. If the mercenaries weren’t there, maybe they could pick up a trail on land. Everyone else waited on the boat, anxious for news. Chloe fought the urge to bite her nails again and stared inland instead.

  Mertrand, the town they’d come ashore at, was a colorful place, the buildings painted in the pastels so common in tropical isles. The sand was just darker than sugar, and the ocean was such a bright turquoise, it rivaled the dyed lakes of Disney World. Chloe wished she could take a stroll into town with Helen, pretending they were another couple on vacation buying souvenirs and silly hats and local delicacies.

  If they had to go on land, Maurice planned to use glamour to hide Polyanthus and Robin, though Chloe would still be able to see all three. She considered giving the helmet to one, but Helen had told her that using it took some getting used to, and the last thing they needed was a red cap or a troll freaking out and using superstrength to destroy the town.

  “Well, I should give it to you, anyway,” Chloe said to Helen as they stood on the deck. She took a deep breath. The hot, crisp sea air still held no hints of the deepening autumn. “Seeing as how I stole it from you and all.”

  Helen smiled wryly. “You should hold on to it. Since you can see invisible things, you don’t have to go through the mental gymnastics required when one can no longer see oneself.”

  Chloe didn’t even know there were gymnastics required, mental or otherwise. Seeing the unseen was becoming handier than she’d ever thought it was.

  It took a few hours for the nereids to return with a report, and morning was giving way to afternoon. “We saw two large warehouses right on the water,” Maera said. “In a small cove between two long jetties.”

  Eudore nodded. “They have several piers, nothing for a big ship.”

  “No, shipping craft and cruise ships dock at the larger port down the coast,” Helen said. “Did you see anyone?”

  “A few people. Four fishing boats, a sailboat, and a few smaller craft tied up or hanging out of the water inside the buildings.” Maera gestured at the other boats in this marina. “Nothing as busy as here.”

  “So what now?” Fatma asked, craning her neck as if she could see across the island by force of will.

  “We get a look inside those warehouses,” Helen said. “Do a little investigating.”

  Fatma rubbed her chin. “I can cover you from nearby.” She had brought her arsenal onto the deck and gestured toward some kind of rifle with a scope. Chloe didn’t miss the gleam in her eye as she looked them over. God.

  “Or,” Chloe said, “we can ask our invisible guardian spirit who is with us of his own free will if he wouldn’t mind having a peek.” She winked at Ramses.