SPOILER ALERT: Sample may contain spoilers if you have not read Firecracker or Fire Trap
Chapter One: Why Naples?
Gage thanked the Deliveroo driver and took the two paper bags containing our order, then stepped back as the scooter took off. It sprayed stones in its attempt to gain enough momentum to tackle the Academy’s steep driveway. I took a bag and fell in step with Gage as we passed under the arch and headed around to the stone tables at the back of the villa.
Dr. Price stood a short distance away on the lawn, murmuring into her mobile. She glanced up as we set the food on the table and began to unpack takeout boxes. Her eyes rolled heavenward and she mouthed, “Thank God.”
It was only mediocre Chinese food from the nearest restaurant, but given that Palmer and her kitchen staff had left for the summer, so it was delivery or opening a few tins of beans, it smelled like heaven.
Dr. Price said goodbye and came to sit across from Gage, watching as I spooned fried rice and chicken balls onto three plates.
“Basil is dealing with the funeral director and lawyers today.” Christy swallowed audibly as I doled out three servings of greasy green beans.
Gage set out the cutlery we’d taken from the kitchen. “Isn’t there anyone else who can do that? He just lost his father, for crying out loud.”
“Unfortunately, making funeral arrangements and dealing with lawyers falls on the shoulders of the grieving. It’s not fair, I know.” Christy replied.
I slid a plate of food in front of her and sat down beside Gage on the bench. Mouth watering, I speared a chicken ball and dipped it in some neon-pink goo that smelled a lot like cotton candy. I almost took a bite but paused, deep fried poultry-ball held in mid-air, as I noticed Gage showing exactly zero interest in the food. I glanced at Christy, then took the bite.
“Aren’t you hungry?” the doctor asked Gage before shoveling in a mouthful of egg-fried rice.
Gage threw a glance at his plate, frowning. “I don’t have any appetite, thanks.”
Swallowing, I chased it with a bit of water. “Christy got her SUV back and she’s not going to press charges. Is that what you’re worried about?”
It had been two days since Ryan had vanished with Dr. Price’s vehicle. The police had found it the following morning at Luton airport. Inquiries with airport authorities uncovered that Ryan had purchased a one-way ticket on the red-eye to NAP—Naples International airport.
The Arcturus students (except for me, Gage and Cecily) and most of the staff had gone home yesterday. Cecily was visiting a friend in London while her mom helped Basil and would return to the academy by train when Dr. Price was ready to go home to Inverness.
Mrs. Fairchild was currently—with an army of a dozen seasonal staff—giving every corner of the academy a thorough spring cleaning before she left for summer vacation. When they were finished, only Dr. Price, me and Gage, would be here when Basil returned. At least the villa would be gleaming when he came back.
I had called my parents and delayed my flight by five days. I didn’t feel right leaving Basil, Christy, and Gage after what had happened, but I couldn’t hang around the villa all spring. I felt some level of responsibility for what Ryan did, even though it had nothing to do with me.
“I’m grateful,” Gage was saying to Christy. “If you don’t press charges then he’ll be able to return to the UK without problems. I just wish I knew what the hell he was thinking, and what he’s going to do next. Why won’t he answer my calls? I know he can see my texts.”
“Have your parents tried calling him?” Dr. Price asked between mouthfuls.
“Of course, they have. They’re ready to get on the next flight out of Halifax. But showing up in Naples without knowing where he’s staying would be useless. We could arrive just as he’s leaving. I never would have thought my own twin—” He looked away and cleared his throat.
An awkward silence descended over our table. I put my fork down, swallowing food that suddenly tasted like ashes. I hated seeing Gage so fraught, and wanted to throttle Ryan for putting his family through this. Was I surprised? Not in the least. Especially not now that Ryan was Burned. Surely, his descent into thoughtless egotism had begun, though it was hard to tell if he was any worse. Ryan had been self-serving since the day I’d met him, but it didn’t make the current circumstances any easier.
I noticed that Dr. Price had stopped eating as well, and was now gazing off into oblivion with a frozen stare.
“Was it Basil’s father the triplets got their fire from?” I asked, as much from curiosity as wanting to break the tension and distract Gage from his misery.
Dr. Price’s focus returned. She looked at me, brow pinched in the bright afternoon light of an English spring. “Yes, Viscount Chaplin was the mage. Basil’s mother was a natural. She died not long after Bellamy was killed.”
The mention of Basil’s murdered triplet seemed to suck the remaining oxygen out of the air. So much for distracting from misery.
So Basil was an orphan now, if an adult could be considered an orphan, estranged from the other surviving triplet, and at only fifty years of age. At one time in my life, fifty seemed so old, certainly old enough to be without one’s parents. But my perspective had changed. No one was ever ready to lose a beloved parent, no matter how old they were, and Basil had been close to his dad.
Gage rooted his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen. Probably typing out his hundredth pleading text to Ryan. He muttered, “Why Naples?”
Christy and I shared a look. Gage had murmured the question so softly it was obvious he didn’t expect either of us to have an answer. We did have an answer, or at least a pretty strong theory, which neither of us had dared mention to Gage yet.
“Gage, dear,” Christy began, her words halting. “Ryan is a newly Burned mage, he’ll be looking for a mentor. Saxony was only one factor in his survival. Ryan wasn’t taking chances. We think he contacted a … somewhat infamous Burned mage who resides in Naples, according to the Agency’s latest intelligence.”
Gage turned a stare toward the doctor. His cheeks were pale under two days’ worth of stubble. “What?”
Gage looked at me. When he saw my expression, he could tell that I was also in the know. He pushed his plate of cold Chinese food away and nailed me with another look.
“You knew about this, too?”
I wilted under his gaze, but nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me before? I’ve been going out of my mind—”
“That’s why,” I explained. “It’s just a theory, and it’s not good news.”
“Basil alerted Arcturus Agency of Ryan’s movements.” Dr. Price laid a hand on Gage’s forearm. “When they get eyes on Ryan, you and your parents will be the first to know.”
Gage dropped his head and laced his fingers behind his neck. After a few deep breaths, he loosened his hands and looked up. “Who is the mage in Naples?”
“His name is Nero Palumbo,” Christy replied, letting the name sink in.
Gage’s expression shifted. My stomach dropped as dismay filled his blue eyes. He wiped a hand across his pale lips. “I recognize the name. I haven’t heard it since I was little, but—” he paused, thinking. “He’s the guy who murdered Basil’s brother, isn’t he?”
Dr. Price nodded, looking miserable.
Gage was horrified. “Why would Ryan go to him?”
My chest ached. Gage was ever the tender heart, a little naive, always kind. How many times had Ryan disappointed him in their lifetime? How many times would Gage forgive? I already knew the answer because I knew Gage. His forgiveness was endless because his love was unconditional. It was something I admired, maybe even aspired to, but thought I would never achieve.
In calm tones, Christy explained to Gage how Basil’s report about what had happened back in 1988 between the triplets and Nero had been ‘borrowed’ by Ryan. The report detailed Nero’s claim that he’d found a formula, one that Basil believed was a fabrication, but—as written—might convince a reader it was factual. Ryan had reached out to Nero and made some kind of agreement with him in exchange for the formula.
I added my speculation that Ryan had promised Nero the artifact, and had gone to Naples to make good on his promise.
“He might even be back in a day or two,” I suggested, wanting to wipe the misery from Gage’s features.
Gage’s phone vibrated on the stone table. He fumbled for it with both hands, almost dropping it as he swiveled away from Christy and me.
“It’s Ryan,” he said, the muscles in his shoulders and back visibly tight.
Christy and I waited, watching Gage as he read the text. When he turned around, the relief in his face made us look at one another with hope.
“He’s okay.” Gage turned back to the table, tapping out a response. He hit send, closed his eyes and breathed, holding his phone close to his chest. Opening his eyes, he smiled at me. The blazing white grin almost knocked me backward. My heart surged against my ribs in response.
“What did he say?” I asked, dazed.
“He’s still in Naples. He says,” Gage lifted the phone and read aloud, “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you. I haven’t been sure what to say. I am okay. I’m in Naples. I’m safe. Forgive me for embarrassing you, and tell Dr. Price I’m sorry for stealing her SUV. Tell her the brakes are a little warped and the alignment needs adjusting but it wasn’t me that wrecked either.” Gage chuckled and I could hear lightness in his laugh.
Christy rolled her eyes and shook her head. She began to eat again.
“I asked him if I could meet him in Naples,” Gage continued, “but he said: When my business here is finished, I’ll come find you, brother.”
Gage gave me a look of unadulterated relief. “I think you’re right, Saxony. He’s gone to give the relic to Nero. He’ll be back. At least now I know he’s okay and that I’ll see him soon.”
Ice-chips formed along the lining of my stomach. Why was it that no one else seemed concerned that Ryan would be delivering an artifact of some unknown power to a murderous Burned mage? Surely Basil had warned the Agency that the artifact had to be intercepted. With all my heart, I wished that Basil were here.
Gage pulled his plate toward himself, grabbed a fork and dug in.
“That’s cold by now,” said Christy.
Gage took a bite and shrugged. “Still good.”
Pushing my plate away, I massaged my temples with my fingers. Now I was the one without an appetite.
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