He crawled off the muddy bank and into the shallows where Antinous lay. He knelt and slipped his left arm around Antinous’ back and his right across his chest. It wasn’t hard to muster tears. The anguish of Hadrian still coursed through him. The raw pain of his lover’s death was so fresh he felt it in every pore. The words he spoke weren’t important...not really. He just spoke. He wept. He wept so hard he could not catch his breath, and at last, he said the words that proclaimed Antinous divine. Has it been enough? Have I fulfilled the tour’s performance without the troupe, or am I making six refunds?

  The faces of his guests gave him all the information he needed. When he looked up, after performing one of the greatest cathartic moments in Roman history, a few tissues were being passed between them. And then came the applause.

  Antinous opened his eyes and smiled at Adrian. “You did it.”

  “We did it. Let’s get you cleaned up before we are arrested for indecency.”

  Antinous rose and then unashamedly walked, caked in mud and dripping wet, toward Adrian’s van. Adrian stood and shook off a swoon. He exhaled forcefully. Clearly, Antinous was beautiful. Is beautiful. He could not avert his gaze from the taunt body sauntering away from the Nile’s edge. And I can have that. Do I want that? Adrian chuckled. Oh, yes. I want that.

  As Adrian moved away from the mud, the applause continued. “Thank you. I’ll clean up now and we can continue the tour.”

  The tour van was equipped with a small solar shower. A cubie of water on the roof, heated by the ever-present Egyptian sun, trickled through hoses until it sprinkled down on whomever chose to stand under the spout. A folding screen offered a modicum of privacy.

  “I’ve never had to use this for myself after I got an apartment. I kept it in case we needed to cool down a tourist. This place...is hot,” Adrian said, flipping the toggle switch to “on” for the water to begin its courses. He stripped out of his now drying muddy clothes and took a quick rinse. Antinous followed him under the shower.

  “I enjoy the sight of your nakedness, Adrian. You are beautiful.”

  Adrian felt himself flush from ears to toes. “Thank you.” Thank you? How should I respond? “Yes. I like how you look, too, incidentally.” Adrian couldn’t pull his gaze from the taught muscles of Antinous’ body. “You have scars.”

  “From many a turn in the hills with bow and spear. I was not in battle.”

  Adrian slid his hand over Antinous’ shoulder. “I’d like to kiss you.”

  “I am yours.”

  The tour guide and reincarnation of Hadrian gently pressed his lips against Antinous’ mouth. A simple kiss—which opened the flood gates.

  The only thing that mattered was Antinous’ body next to his. Slick, sun-heated warmth of bronzed skin next to his tanned-only-in-places-that-saw-daylight, ushering arousal, and deep, penetrating memories mixing into glorious future.

  Without any sense of decorum, they walked from the shower into the van and then into the very back bench seat. All the windows were tinted, and the vehicle was far cooler than outside.

  Adrian pulled out his spare clothes and then passed Antinous a white caftan.

  “Should we dress, Adrian? Let us kiss nude and explore each other.”

  “The tour.”

  “They are occupied and thoroughly entertained.”

  Adrian slipped a crisp red tunic over his head. “We shouldn’t.”

  “I will explode if I do not feel you in my arms this minute.”

  Adrian lowered his head and nodded. “I understand.”

  “Then come to me, my love.”

  ADRIAN LEANED INTO Antinous, and they kissed. Deeply kissed. An exploratory kiss. States of full arousal blossomed. Antinous slid off the bench seat and kneeled before Adrian, then took an engorged member into his mouth. He had not fellated his love for nearly two thousand years. The penis felt the same as ever it had. The body odor was the same. The flavor—the same.

  HE DIDN’T THINK HE could relax. At any moment, someone could enter. He found that fact more exhilarating than problematic. The rhythm of Antinous’ mouth and tongue against his dick...incredible. It had been a very long time since he’d taken a lover and he brimmed forthwith. Adrian moaned and grabbed Antinous’ head of curls as he came, while Antinous sucked him dry.

  Antinous pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “All hail Hadrian, emperor, beloved of Osiris, lover of Antinous and his reincarnation, Adrian, tour guide.”

  Adrian laughed. “Do you always give praise after fellatio?”

  “Oh, yes. I would praise Hadrian while he fucked me and again when I sucked his cock. Of course when he fellated me, I became rapturous.”

  “Rapturous?”

  “Completely ascendant.”

  “Did you ever fuck Hadrian?”

  Antinous shook his head. “I am not Roman, therefore, I could not take a superior position. As his Greek lover, my body was under his. Often.”

  “Those laws do not apply today.” Adrian looked sharply at Antinous and spoke with a low and sultry voice. “You shall have my ass.”

  “Thank you, Adrian.”

  “But now, let’s get to the tour. I am eternally grateful that this van has all the accoutrements of home. I lived in this thing before I started making a little money doing the tours. Not only is there clothing stashed away, but dry goods and cooking implements.”

  “The shower is remarkable. Not unlike what Hadrian and I used—except we had servants pouring sun-heated water over us.”

  They finished dressing. The driver was at the far end of the bus, taking a smoke break. “Your group is just up a bit, looking at the ruins. I’ve been keeping my eye on the scammers. If any one of them gets too close, I’ll take care of things. You...are busy, no?”

  “Thanks, Mac.”

  “See you’ve found yourself a new friend. It’s about time.”

  “I’ve been cautiously celibate for years.”

  Mac chuckled. “No longer.”

  “You saw?” Adrian asked, concerned.

  “I heard. Can’t see in the van what with those window films.”

  Adrian continued, “Have we breeched some rule of etiquette?”

  “This is the desert, son. Rules don’t apply once this far out. And I don’t see any of Cairo’s morality police about.”

  Adrian tugged on Antinous’ arm, and they wandered to the group. The vendors had descended on his guests. It wasn’t as bad as at the pyramids, when a tourist could get played if not in a tour group.

  “You look very handsome in your Egyptian garb. The passion play was spectacular.” Adrian couldn’t remember the tourist’s name. She was a devotee of Antinous—he knew that much.

  “Thank you. We certainly played the parts today. Good thing we were able to get cleaned up.”

  “Adrian, when you wept as Hadrian must have wept with your friend here—who I must say is a spitting image for those we have of Antinous—my heart broke.” She paused and held out her hand to Antinous. “I’m Maggie. I’m an expat from the USA. I live full time in Jordan but came here for...well...your day.”

  Antinous shook her hand by embracing her forearm—the Roman way. “I am actually named Antinous. Very nice to meet you.”

  “You are a spitting image of the statues and portraits.”

  “I’ve been told that before.”

  “Well, I truly enjoyed your performance. Thank you, again.”

  Maggie wandered away, leaving Adrian and Antinous to their own devices.

  “You know, Adrian, where I died and you wept is very close to the actual event.”

  “After all this time, you can still discern the location?”

  “It glows. None of this was here. These ruins came after my death for the most part, but the place where I died, glows.”

  “Want to purchase a commemorative item celebrating your death and deification?”

  Antinous laughed. “I do not but thank you for the offer.”

  Adrian squeezed his hand. “I’m going to mingle with the paying guests. Chat later?”

  “I’m never leaving you again.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Adrian took a deep breath and shook off the pleasure and giddiness of a new relationship—the rekindling of a very old relationship. What the hell am I doing? What the hell is real? He recalled the force of his recent orgasm. That was real. Very real. Holy shit. He put on his game face. Future tours depended upon good Yelp reviews. What is my life now? I am the lover of an incredibly handsome young man, who is a god. A god. I am consort of a god. I can’t do this...

  The vendors were out in full force, hawking Antinous-related trinkets in three languages. Some of them even took Venmo. Adrian picked up a pomegranate from a salesman, selling offerings. Salt, bay, rosemary sprigs, fruit. He cut it open at the stall before he carried it to the water’s edge. Others had purchased balsawood sailboats and had sent them down river with a small candle or other item. Some had rolled up scraps of paper. Prayers. Wishes. Requests. I made no wish. I barely offer prayers. And yet I am now aware of a very potent past life and reunited with his true love. My true love.

  He looked around and nodded to each member of his tour group in turn. Some were heavily laden with trinkets. “We need to leave for the pyramids shortly. Gather yourself and head back to the van.”

  “Hell of a tour, Adrian. Great job.”

  “Thank you. It’s been one for the books, that’s for sure. The driver will set out the picnic—but you might want to eat it inside the van to escape this heat.”

  The tourist laughed. “It’s Egypt. What’s a hundred degrees between friends?”

  “Air conditioning is my friend. I used to live in that minibus.”

  “That’s why you have the microwave and shower set up, huh?”

  “Yes. My flat is much more comfortable.”

  “That kid...the one who everyone says looks like the statues...he one of the actors?”

  Adrian pursed his lips and took a breath. How do I answer this? “He’s so much more.”

  “Ah, is he one of the true believers?”

  Adrian nodded. “Definitely.”

  ANTINOUS HAD NOT MOVED too far from the water’s edge. The contrasts of desert and green fields were the same as it had always been. Beautiful. He watched Adrian move about the vendors and tourists with great ease. Just like Hadrian. Comfortable with the people. I am his once again. My joy knows no bounds. I am his lover...and his god.

  He realized his skin was clammy and his steps grew heavy. He ignored the niggling feeling that something was amiss. The hairs on the back of his neck stood erect. The air had electrified, and it seemed a current coursed through him unbidden. It was uncomfortable but bearable. He scanned the Nile’s edge. I know this place. There were no roads save for caravan tracks. The encampment covered a great swath of desert, and we lived a good life here. Under these sands, I’m sure artifacts of that time remain. Buttons. Silver rings. Pottery. So many items of everyday life were used in this place. The mallet I wielded when I killed Marcus’ woman. Is that here with her aggrieved spirit? Why do I consider her now? It’s been nearly two thousand years. Is it her rage that penetrates my flesh, making it crawl as if scarabs cover me? Antinous sucked in air, shallow and hard. This was not a divine presence of spirit. This was more akin to the sufferings and pains of mortality. His gut rolled and his skin burned. His vision blurred and his mouth went as dry as the sands upon which he stood. He heard screams and impact blows...then mewling whimpers.

  A fleeting vision of his reincarnation agent flashed before him. It is all falling apart. Sharp, biting pains ripped at his internal organs. I am imploding. No! He closed his eyes as a stab sent him to his knees. He regained himself and found he was no longer in the Egypt of his reincarnation but was trapped in a shadow of a bygone era. Neither living, nor dead—a literal ghost of his past. Before him, Roman soldiers drank, drilled, polished their short swords, groomed horses, and fucked whores eager to earn a few coins to lift them from poverty. Except for Caesar’s executioner. His hand was filled with a bloodied mallet and his gaze was fixed on the next spot in which to inflict damage. Antinous saw the lifeforce draining from the convicted like the gentle tendrils of a vine growing from rich soil, now desecrated and tainted with mold and urine. It rose from the top of the newly deceased’s head, reaching higher and higher. It had an odor. Sweet, sickly. He knew the essence. It was indeed that of the whore he had killed to prove himself to Hadrian’s men.

  He winced and cried out with no one to hear him as long, jagged nails raked his cheeks. “Stop!” he cried.

  “This is your reward for your years of service as the receptacle for Caesar’s love. Nothingness.”

  “It is painful. Where is my reincarnation agent?”

  “You were warned of fucking with the timeline. Did she not state that there could be consequences?”

  Antinous vomited. Instead of hitting the sand, it became flames that pushed back against him. “She did.”

  “And because your lover proclaimed you divine in an excited utterance of grief, you believed you were above the conventions of time and space?”

  He nodded. “I am a god. By Hadrian’s words and Osiris’ hands.”

  “Not so much now, Antinous. Not so much now.”

  “Osiris, help me.”

  “I died by your hand at the Nile’s edge and the great gods of Egypt and Rome did not rally to my aid and raise me up. Why should any of them now heed your call? I have found no comfort these past two thousand years. I am a shade, walking in shadow, bleeding black blood from wounds that never heal. The last image of my life was your hand holding a mallet. I have hated you for far too long. I would see justice.”

  “I didn’t know your name.” His essence leaked from him. Every orifice. Eyes. Nose. Rectum. Urethra. What made him up, the waters of his life, now returned to the desert.

  “And yet you struck me down and stood witness to my humiliation and crucifixion. I am not alone, you know. There are others cut by Caesar’s orders that wander the banks of the Nile in search of light and drink and warmth. There are no resources for the departed of this dimension. We are trapped in a dry, barren land. Always do we observe life in its past glories and never can we interact or feel renewed by the coursing waters or heat of the sun. We are undead, Antinous. Our unfinished business keeps us prisoner, and now, because of your arrogance, you have joined us. I am the avenging angel of the timeline sent to return you to oblivion.”

  ADRIAN DOUBLED OVER as deep, rolling, searing pain overwhelmed him. He held his left side and dropped to his knees in the sand. The agony was exquisite. Not a damned person appeared to be coming to his aid. He saw the tourists and vendors and even a few soldiers in his periphery vision and no one seemed to notice he was nearly face-first in the sand, clutching his side. He took a breath, hoping it would clear his head and panicked as he observed Antinous disappear into a fog of flames and sand.

  No. I must get to him. I cannot lose him again. He crawled to a toppled stone and pushed himself upright. The words stung his mind. Lose. Him. Again. As if he were now fully incorporated with the mystic DNA of Hadrian. For a second time. He placed one foot before the other. Antinous—or what was left of him—was not so far away that he could not crawl if he had to. The pain changed and crept away from his back left quadrant and settled into his legs. Like lifting lead weights, he stepped forward across the sand and mud until he lost his footing and fell before the blackened pile of ash where Antinous had once stood. He is burnt to ash. There is nothing left. As Hadrian had wept, so too did Adrian. He lifted handfuls of the blackened sand and clutched it to his chest. Tears fell freely and he made no attempt to stifle his anguish.

  FROM ACROSS THE PLAINS of existence between them, Antinous heard Adrian’s cries. His heart sank and broke. He prostrated himself in agony.

  THE ANGRY SPIRIT STUCK with him in the in between halted her torment. What sweet misery this is that takes his attention from the suffering I bring. Why...I am nothing compared to it. What more can I do to him than have him witness the loss his lover feels? I did not expect to have my revenge so quickly. I anticipated a millennium of torment.

  Antinous sank deeper into despair and the bleakness of being utterly alone without hope. “Osiris, hear me. I cannot be without him. I cannot have him suffer so without me. We loved with a love that was more than love[1]. More than life. More than all the stars. What must I do?”

  The answer came to him as if a cooling breeze had breached the boundaries of his dry death, and in that refreshing wind, he heard two simple words—be humble.

  Antinous choked. Humility? I am a god. He assessed his situation, noting he was now very much alone. The vengeful whore had departed. I am a trapped god, stuck between lives. I misused the timeline. I forsook conventions and insisted upon having my way when the threads of time are not lightly changed or pattern or woven in a pattern of my choosing. “Osiris! I understand, but to show humility I must admit that my desire to be with Hadrian as we were is wrong. I did force my agent’s hand and was not considerate of the timeline or lives changed by my actions, but I cannot display humility when my only goal is to hold him once again. Hold him forever.”

  “You cannot go back.” Osiris’ voice sounded cold and tinny.

  Antinous grit his teeth. “Give me the solution.”

  “You are divine.”

  “What can my divinity do to remedy this horrific situation?”

  The blue-toned face of the god appeared as swirling mist. “Bring him here.”

  Antinous startled and bolted upright. “Bring him here? Bring him into this twilight land more barren and drier than any underworld?”