Chapter 24
After Mo had gone, Aida went to her office and printed out a grocery permission slip, then donned her mask and grabbed her
coat. She texted Yumi on the way. She was stopped once, not far from the palazzo, but after a check of her papers she was
free to go, with the admonishment not to go anywhere but the store.
It was an admonishment Aida promptly ignored. Before she reached Yumi’s building, she masked her location on her MODA phone
for the first time in months. Yumi buzzed her in, and to her great relief, she didn’t see anyone in the hallways who might
have noticed this stranger who shouldn’t be there.
She collapsed into Yumi’s arms the second the door closed.
“Oh my god, a hug!” her friend exclaimed, holding her tight. “I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed this. But you’re brave,
stopping here.”
Aida shrugged. “I can afford the fine.”
“Heh, we should have done this ages ago then.” She sobered. “But what’s going on? You look worried.”
“I am. Something really weird just happened with Mo.”
Yumi raised an eyebrow. “Let me get the wine. It sounds like we’ll need it.”
After clinking together their glasses of rosé, Aida explained Mo’s out-of-character behavior.
Yumi leaned back on the couch, eyes wide with interest. “So, let me get this straight. Mo—your cryptic, cynical employer—decided to just sit next to you and, what . . . attempt a friendly conversation?”
Aida nodded, sighing. “Exactly. And I can’t tell if it was genuine or some sort of ploy. He’s never been that . . . well,
not exactly kind, but almost . . . normal with me.”
“Whoa. This might be an opportunity. If he’s sympathetic to you, he may be more likely to turn against his siblings.”
Aida bit her lip, considering Yumi’s words. “Maybe. It didn’t feel manipulative this time. But I’m wary. I have to believe
that he is someone who always has a motive. Even if it’s not apparent immediately. He said as much at the beginning of the conversation.”
Yumi nodded. “Yeah, but maybe this is him learning to act without an agenda. Maybe gods can change?”
Aida looked down at her glass, swirling the wine thoughtfully. “It’s just strange. Why now? Why me? He’s had centuries to
find a friend.”
“Maybe you’re the first person who’s treated him like a human being. You dish it back to him. I mean, everyone else is afraid
of him, or they’re working with him for their own gain. You’ve stayed honest. That probably counts for more than you realize.
You might just be the one to teach him what it’s like to have a real friend. And hey, if it goes well, that’s one less immortal
on your case, right?”
Aida laughed despite herself. “I doubt it’s that simple. But who knows?”
Palazzo Barberini was a thirty-minute walk across the city center. Aida was stopped twice by Carabinieri, but when she showed
them the permission slip that Trista had given her, they quickly apologized and let her go on her way. At the door to the
museum, she was surprised to find Mo there, waiting with Felix. Despite his mask obscuring half his face, Aida could tell
her friend was not happy.
“Nice of you to join us,” Mo said. He knocked on the door and a few seconds later it swung wide to let them in. A slender woman with a mask and gloves instructed them not to touch anything and to leave their masks on. Immediately after she disappeared, Mo tore his off.
“Dreadful things. I know they save lives, but mine sure as hell doesn’t need saving.”
Felix muttered something about putting other people’s lives in danger.
Mo guffawed. “Worry not, you beastly little man. I’m needed back in London, and I’ll be taking my maskless self right back
out that door.”
“It was nice of you to meet us here,” Aida said to break the tension. She had hoped his earlier friendliness might continue,
but perhaps that didn’t extend to other humans. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
Mo’s eyes seemed to light up momentarily. “I wanted to make sure you could get in without any hassle. But apparently, Trista
also thought it prudent to send your bumbling guide friend along.”
Felix was about to say something, but Aida broke in before he could set Mo off. “Trista is good at her job. Felix is one of
the best guides in the city. He’s been crucial in helping me catalog everything to Lady Ozie’s specifications.” She turned
to Felix and held out an elbow for him to bump. “Good to see you again.”
“Thanks,” he said, connecting his elbow to hers.
“This lockdown is becoming tiring. Something must be done about it,” Mo said, almost more to himself than to Aida and Felix.
He put his hand on the door. “London’s calling and I must be away. I think London should be calling you again soon as well.”
He winked at Aida, then disappeared through the door. The blanket of calm that surrounded her abruptly ended.
Felix sagged in relief. “What a colossal asshole. Seriously, one of the biggest jerks I’ve ever met.”
“For some reason, he seems to like me,” Aida said. “What did he say to you?”
“He was standing at the door when I arrived. When I said I was there to meet you, he ripped into me, interrogating me. It
was unnerving. It was clear he didn’t want me to be there at all. I would have left, but I was worried about leaving you alone
with that guy. Despite his damned good looks, everything out of his mouth was sarcastic and downright acerbic.”
Aida had to chuckle. “Well, he is the god of sarcasm, after all.”
“Wait, that was Mo?” Felix covered his masked mouth with his hand.
“It was.”
Felix could hardly say anything for a moment. When he finally did, it was with a curse. “Fuuuuuck. I don’t like this god thing. I’m so glad I didn’t say all the things I wanted to.”
“Lucky for you, he’s unable to hurt mortals directly.”
Felix snorted. “Directly. But perhaps he could compel the woman who opened the door to fetch her gun and put a bullet in my
head?”
“In theory. But that would mean she already had a gun, and it’s not so easy to get one in this country.”
Felix looked at her, incredulous. “Aida! You know what I mean.”
“I do, but I really think Mo is mostly all talk. His power is in his biting words.”
Felix led Aida through the magnificent palace, which was now the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Antica, including some of the oldest
paintings in Rome. When they reached the Grand Salone, they stood in its center looking up at Pietro da Cortona’s Baroque
masterpiece, a fresco that Felix informed Aida was called the Allegory of Divine Providence and Barberini Power.
“It’s one of the most important paintings of the seventeenth century,” he told her. “That woman in the center, that’s Divine Providence. Time and the Fates are below her, and she is commanding the personification of Rome above her to put the papal crown on the Barberini coat of arms.”
“I should take notes, I suppose,” Aida said, reaching into her bag for her notebook.
Felix stopped her. “No, just look at it with me. Please.”
They admired the fresco in silence for some time. Staring up at Cortona’s masterpiece, Felix seemed lost in his own world,
his eyes tracing the intricate dance of figures across the fresco. The silence between them stretched, filled with the unspoken
magnitude of the artwork above.
Finally, Felix turned his face away from the ceiling. Aida was glad for the reprieve and took a moment to stretch her neck.
“Thanks,” he said.
“For what?”
“For indulging me. I needed the silence to think, and admiring art helps me gather my thoughts. I’ve always appreciated this
fresco for its artistic merit, but today, I’ve realized this scene is more than a grand display of Barberini’s power or a
tribute to divine providence. It’s about the human spirit, our enduring quest to find meaning, to assert ourselves against
the chaos of existence. It’s a reminder of how people have always grappled with forces larger than themselves. The gods, fate,
now this pandemic . . . They’re all part of a larger narrative of human experience.”
“It’s funny. Humans are always painting the gods, but the gods are nothing without us humans,” Aida said, glancing back up
at the divine figures above her.
Felix turned to Aida, his eyes reflecting a mixture of resolve and introspection. He motioned for Aida to mask her MODA phone.
“That’s exactly it. That’s what we’re facing now with MODA, and trying to find Pandora and Effie is another chapter in that
narrative. Our actions, our choices . . . they matter, just like those of the people who put the painting on that ceiling.
We’re part of something bigger, and that’s both terrifying and incredibly humbling. And the gods . . . they can’t eliminate
us completely because if they do, who will glorify them?”
“Maybe that’s why Mo mentioned the pandemic was becoming tiresome,” Aida mused. “I’ve been thinking about that. I wonder how much of this is him going along with his sisters, and not his own idea. If humans are locked away, it must be pretty boring for someone like him.”
“Well, he did say that you may be returning to London soon. Maybe you’re right, and he’ll find some way to ease the lockdown.”
“I hope so,” she said as she took her notebook out to get to work.
As they wandered the empty museum, Aida thought about Mo’s words. She would give nearly anything to have her pre-pandemic
life back, or at least an end to the lockdown. But if Mo gave the world some reprieve from the pandemic, what did it mean
for Aida in relation to the god? He was caustic and unpredictable. A friendship with him was bound to be volatile at the best
of times.
By June, many of the restrictions began to ease, and museums and public places reopened with strict mask rules, temperature
checks, and visitor limitations. Aida continued her work at Palazzo Barberini, interviewing masked museum visitors. But most
importantly of all, Luciano returned to the Promenade to finish his observations and upload them to Pandora.
The next day, Aida messaged Yumi via Signal. Did it work? Any sign of her?