I take her away from that building soaked in death. Away from the predators that hunt her. I would like to drag her away from all this. Show her other worlds, where she would be safe. But I can't, there's no way to escape. Not yet.
Around us, people walk along the sidewalk, drink aperitifs sitting at tables, stop to admire the luxurious shop windows of the center.
They don't know what happens behind the veil of their reality.
A hidden world, where crimes unfold and the balance of power is dictated by unseen hands.Where the few shape the fate of the many—people oblivious to the forces moving among them.
«Lilia.»
I touch her back lightly, stopping her at the corner of a narrow street, where an old fountain dribbles water from its curved spout.
«I know what you’re about to say.»
Her face is dry, but in her eyes, I see all the darkness that has clawed at her.Her skin is a blank canvas, beneath which lurks a pain she cannot—or will not—show.
«They might use my brother as bait,» she says. «They knew I’d go to my mother. Now we might be walking straight into a trap.»
«Yes. We might be.»
We’re in the crosshairs of people who won’t stop until they get what they want: her.And we know almost nothing. I don’t know why, and I can’t even put a face to the ones chasing us.
She shakes her head, her lashes veiling those deep, restless eyes. «But I can’t leave him. He’s my brother.»
I press my lips together. I don’t want to say what I’m thinking. How could I, without hurting her?
«Speak, Quod. Don’t just stare at me.»
Hearing that name on her lips throws me off balance. Am I still me? No more than I am Emanuele—or any other form I’ve worn. So does it really matter?
I don’t know.But I can’t control the unease creeping over me.
«Emanuele,» I correct her.
«Sorry. Emanuele… fine.» She pushes her hair back with a nervous gesture.
«I think that if their plan was to kill your brother, they would have already done it. If they haven’t, then he won’t die—not yet. Not as long as he’s useful to lure you in… or to negotiate with you.»
«That’s true. But what can we do alone?»
I nod, pressing my fingers to my forehead.The answer is nothing.
And we both know it.
She moves toward the fountain and bends down to drink. My gaze follows the curve of her body, down to the tip of her chin, glistening with cold water.
«Maybe there’s someone who could help us.»I regret the words the second they leave my mouth.
She wipes her lips with the back of her hand. «Who?»
«Other Velati. A third faction, let’s say.»
Her brows lift in surprise. «Why didn’t you tell me?»
«Because they’re not easy to deal with. Some of them have… questionable morals. Others suffer from botched irradiations.»I clear my throat. «And there’s another problem.»
Her frown deepens. Her gaze searches mine, as if trying to read my thoughts. «Which is?»
«I know the one who leads them.»
«That could be a good thing, right?»
«It could. But not in this case.»
«She’s an ex, isn’t she?» She asks bluntly.
I clear my throat. «Not exactly.»
Her frown sharpens. «Yes or no?»
I genuinely don’t know how to answer that.
«It’s… complicated.»
She bites her lip, thinking.I hope she says no.
Even though I don’t know what we’ll do if she does.
«Well, we need help. I’m not leaving Luca in their hands.»
I sigh and nod. «Alright.»
Flying over Rome isn’t an option. So we’re stuck using more conventional means—at least for a while.
Actually, for the entire trip, since she refuses to let me fly her to the coast.Our destination is on the shoreline of Ostia.We’d get there so much faster if she’d just let me carry her.
But I don’t push.Her mood has darkened, and she’s wrapped herself in a stubborn silence that only breaks when we pass the Roman ruins of Ostia.
«Did you ever live in ancient Rome?» she asks, nodding toward the sunlit ruins.
«For a short time.»
«So, basically, you’re a thousand-year-old man in the body of a young guy.»
I don’t know whether to laugh or feel insulted.She says it like she’s looking at some thing.Some twisted joke of nature, always chasing something it will never reach.
«I evolve slowly, compared to you. I’m not much older than I look. If I had to compare it to human years… I doubt I’d even be thirty.»
She flashes a sharp smile. «So, when I’m a grown woman, I’ll just think you’re some dumb, immature boy?»
If she meant it as a dagger, I feel it.
«Probably,» I say simply.
She shrugs and picks up the pace.Her shift in mood weighs like a stone in my chest.
But I have enough experience to bear it.Once, it would have wrecked me.Maybe I would have lashed out, driven by the terror of losing her.I’ve made those mistakes before.I won’t make them again.
We take the last bus toward the coast, reaching it in about twenty minutes.
The sight of the horizon—where the sky kisses the sea—has always had a strange effect on me. Like an open window in my mind, letting my thoughts drift, washing away my worries like waves dissolving on the shore.
«Are we close?» Lilia asks, throwing me a glance.
«Almost.»
A hundred meters on foot brings us to the entrance of a grand villa, nestled right against the sea.Isolated. Well-protected. Surrounded by towering walls.
«Here?» Lilia arches an eyebrow, scanning the iron gate.
Through its golden bars, I see lush gardens, their scent carried by the salt-laced wind.
I nod. «This is… the main residence, let’s say.»
«Residence? You make it sound like she’s a queen.»
There’s acid in her tone, but I let it go.
I spot a surveillance camera.We won’t have to wait long.
I’ve been here a few times in the past two years.But I never revealed my identity.
This time, I won’t have a choice.
A faint hiss crackles from the intercom set into the wall.
A voice follows.
«Announce yourself.»
I haven’t heard that language spoken in a long time.
«What did they say?» Lilia asks, suspicious. «Is that Romanian?»
«No. Ancient Greek.»
Her eyes widen. «You’re joking.»
«I’m not.» I lean toward the microphone and recite, in the same tongue:
«But he alone, longing for his return and his wife,was held back by the divine nymph Calypso,splendid among goddesses, in her hollow caves,longing to make him her husband.»
«Holy hell,» Lilia mutters. «What was that?»
«The Odyssey, book five.»
«You study a lot, don’t you?»
A moment later, a sharp metallic click breaks the silence, followed by the slow creak of the gate swinging open.
We step onto a path of gleaming white stones. The air is thick with the scent of lush, exotic vegetation and blossoms burning in vibrant colors. It stirs memories of another time.
An island steeped in the perfume of the sea. Skin as smooth and irresistible as the tide beneath a silver moon.
«And where exactly is this queen?» Lilia crosses her arms.
Beyond the garden, a colonnade stretches into a corridor adorned with marble and frescoes of breathtaking artistry.
I press a finger to my lips. «Whatever happens, don’t move. Don’t speak.»
«Oh, sure. And you think—»
She doesn’t finish.
A dozen men in black suits emerge from the foliage, their eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, each one gripping a firearm.
They lead us to the edge of a vast pool that spills seamlessly into the sea. Volcanic stones shape its edges, making it seem more like a natural formation than something built by human hands.
The garden around it glows with a green so vivid it feels almost unreal. Tall palms sway in the salty breeze, their shifting shadows whispering of a land far beyond this world.
Then, from the water, they emerge.
Graceful figures, silhouettes slipping from the glassy surface like illusions made flesh.
Their sheer veils reveal more than they conceal—golden hair, dark waves, fiery red locks. Bare feet whisper over the soft grass as they move together, murmuring among themselves, their sharp gazes drinking us in.
Beautiful. And merciless.
Their allure could bring the noblest man to his knees.
But even they pale before her.
A goddess.
Porcelain skin, eyes the shade of an endless sky. Hair so pale it shimmers like spun silver.Lips like the petals of a rose.
She wears a tunic that shifts in color like the waves at dawn, emphasizing a beauty so staggering that no mortal could gaze upon her and remain unchanged.
I see it in Lilia—frozen as if turned to stone before this ethereal apparition.
«Who disturbs Calypso in her domain?» Her voice is melodic, smooth as water over polished stone. «Or should I already know?»
She speaks her name as it was once pronounced, with the accent on the final syllable—just as it had been when I first knew her, in that time long lost.
I answer in the same language. «We come to ask for your help.»
She steps closer, studying me, her lashes lowering over eyes like carved aquamarine.
«If you are here, then you know more of me than your appearance would suggest. Just as you dared to speak those verses. Tell me, mortal—who are you?»
Calypso leans in, and her scent of salt and jasmine curls around me.I have to summon every ounce of willpower to keep from sinking into memory.
«Demetrius.»
Her hand flies to my throat.
Her lips curl, baring teeth white as pearls—an expression of rage long simmering in the depths of time.
I expected this.
Now, I can only hope she doesn’t kill me.
«How dare you come before me, you traitorous dog?»
She shoves me downward, forcing me to my knees.
From the corner of my eye, I see Lilia take a step forward, but I raise a hand to stop her.
The guards haven’t moved back, but I know how quickly things could go wrong.
«It’s fine,» I reassure her.
Calypso’s gaze narrows.She noticed that.
«But you are not alone, I see.» This time, she speaks perfect Italian.
She releases me and turns to Lilia.
«May I know your name, young one?»
Lilia narrows her eyes as if she could cut through her with a look. «Lilia. And I’m not your friend.»
I lower my gaze, praying Calypso won’t react poorly to that.
Luckily, she doesn’t.
Instead, she fills the air with crystalline laughter.
«And yet, you are here to ask for my aid, or so I’ve heard.»
Lilia takes a step back. «Maybe we were wrong to come.»
«Or perhaps you were not.»
Calypso glances at me, then lifts a pale arm toward the entrance of her estate. «I must apologize for my rashness. Please, accept my hospitality. Refresh yourselves, dine at my table. Then, we shall speak.»
Lilia shoots me a doubtful look.
I nod.
I know she would rather turn and leave, but she has the good sense not to refuse.
The moment we step past the colonnade, I lose sight of her—spirited away in a flurry of gossamer veils.
I might worry.
But I saw it—the flicker of curiosity in Calypso’s gaze.
She won’t harm her.
Not yet.
Not until she has heard everything.
And after that…
She will have no choice but to help.
Or at least, I hope so.
She is one of the few true natives I have ever met.Gifted with immortality, with a beauty that cannot be mere appearance alone.
She has drifted through time with the grace of a Muse, the wisdom of an owl, and the sharp cruelty of a burning blade.
These are the thoughts that consume me as I pace the frescoed room that serves as my prison.
Hours pass before Calypso finally appears at my threshold.
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