Chapter Fifteen
KHALIDA
Khalida threw her duffel bag on the oversized four-poster bed and stared at the ten knives laid out in front of her.
Through the large window overlooking the streets, the skyline peppered the bright blue sky of the city of Rome and looked far more like a painting than real life.
And for a moment, its beauty entranced Khalida.
They were safely within one of Dante’s houses, nicknamed the Villa Aurora, located within the heart of Rome.
The six-level villa was far enough away from the bustling streets that the quiet surrounding them was a balm to her racing mind, allowing her to focus.
It was the calm before the storm, and it wouldn’t last. Nothing ever did.
But without Talik near her, taking up more thoughts than he should, she could focus on why they were there.
To find and stop the Anki.
It sounded easier than it would be. All they had was a hint that an Anki, likely Ninhursag, had turned Idris had been in the catacombs and the extra information Chaucer had given them. Not that she trusted Chaucer entirely.
Khalida chuckled to herself. If it had been Ninhursag within the tunnels, the god was likely gone.
It had been more than six hundred years, and the world had transformed drastically within that time.
But that didn’t make the mission any less dangerous or important.
Khalida paced the room as she tried to go through everything she knew to see if there was any pattern or clue they may have missed in their haste to get to Rome.
Why Rome? Why the catacombs? Why was Sypha adamant that she and Talik work together?
And there it was. It hadn’t taken long for her thoughts to return to him, the thunder of her heart a little louder than it should be.
The sunlight continued to spill into the pretty room.
Decorated in a seventeenth-century human baroque style, with overly pink and red hues, the light sparkled against the gold trimmings, momentarily blinding her.
Finding the Anki was only one side of the mission, the easy part if she was being honest. Killing a god would be anything but simple.
She had been on too many covert missions to have faith that the plan would go off without a hitch.
No plan survived first contact. It was a lesson she had learned the hard way.
The thought of retreating left a bitter taste in Khalida’s mouth. Pulling out her cell, she made a note to find Dante’s armory and demand access to the weapons sooner rather than later.
She glanced back at the blades. They had been on the bed when she arrived.
Dante must have had them delivered to her, since she could not bring her arsenal of knives on the trip, only what she could carry.
Her swords had been nonnegotiable. After picking up the closest one, she held it up to the light.
The metal was almost translucent. It was the size of her palm but weighed no more than a feather.
The hilt was plain and had a holographic sheen to it.
There were no other markings, but she was willing to wager that they were made of orichalcum.
She wanted to show Meraki the knife and see if they could replicate it.
However, it would have to wait until she returned home.
None of her personnel had received clearance for the visit and remained in Egypt.
She tossed the knife up in the air. It would be perfect for throwing. Out of all of them, all but two of them were made from the same material, the smaller two appeared to be constructed from iron. Their hilts were far more rudimentary in comparison.
Knock. Knock.
It was quick and curt. The sound echoed within the room. Khalida didn’t move. It wasn’t Talik or Dante.
“It is open.”
Rieka poked her head around the door. Her red-gold eyes widened as she glanced at the knife collection on the pale pink duvet, and the two swords next to them.
“Who are they from?” Rieka asked. She cautiously walked into the room, shutting the door behind her but didn’t move far.
The question made Khalida pause. She had assumed they had come from Dante. “No idea.” She angled her head. “Can I help you?”
“Sypha wanted to give you something when you arrived in Rome.” She motioned to the object in her hand.
“Did they?”
The dark circles under Rieka’s eyes were new.
Dressed in a short-sleeved black T-shirt and jeans, Rieka’s colorful sleeve tattoo of lilies stood out against her dusky brown skin.
Khalida glanced at the orichalcum bracelet, now a dull bronze color, that had embedded itself into her arm.
Three distinct ovals made up the body of the bracelet extending from the wrist to the elbow.
Each circle had a pair of thin spidery legs that had inserted themselves into Rieka.
The plainness of the design belied the importance of the piece.
Rieka held up her arm. “Wicked accessory. It goes with everything I wear.”
Khalida chuckled. At least Rieka could find humor in the situation. So far, they hadn’t worked out how to remove the bracelet without hurting Rieka.
“Can you still hear them?” Khalida asked. Them. The Anki and the O’hurani.
Most would see Rieka as a pretty hybrid who had somehow gotten the attention of Dante, but only a handful of people knew who she really was. The lost heir of the Royal House of Atlas, direct descendant of the legendary last queen of Atlantis, Vandana.
Because of the gauntlet that tied Rieka to the Anki, they now believed Rieka was one key to finding Atlantis and helping the O’hurani return to his full strength. Personally, Khalida would have preferred if the O’hurani slept for another eleven thousand years.
“I haven’t heard anything since the night we stopped the wayfarers in Egypt,” Rieka said.
She shrugged. As if being connected to their enemy was not a big concern to her.
The dark circles under her eyes told another story.
“It’s like they have some sort of radio silence, or maybe I’m on the wrong frequency. ”
Rieka may not hear the Anki anymore, but it didn’t mean that the connection had been severed—it just lay dormant.
“But that isn’t why I’m here.” Rieka lifted her hand once again, revealing a white cloth wrapped around a small object. Khalida unwrapped it quickly.
An obsidian flint knife, no bigger than her palm, was in the center of the cloth.
It instantly reminded her of Talik’s eyes. They were the exact same shade of black, endless darkness like the bottom of a deep ocean, where sunlight feared to tread.
An interesting gift choice. The blade was sharp, but too small to be effective in close combat. She weighed it carefully, letting the hilt balance on her palm. It toppled in less than a second—it was too heavy to throw in a straight line. “Did they say anything to go with the blade?”
Rieka shook her head.
Of course not. Sypha wouldn’t suddenly become less vague and more talkative. Annoying seers with god complexes.
Rieka turned to walk out, but she stopped as she reached the door. A frown marred her face. “Can you train me?”
Khalida hid her surprise. From what she had observed, Rieka knew the basics, could handle a blaster and a knife enough to have survived the fight with the wayfarers in Egypt. She was nowhere near the level of her guards, but then few were.
“Talik said you were the best.”
This time, she couldn’t hide her shock, her mouth suddenly dry. “He did?”
“Yes. You don’t have to answer now,” Rieka added hastily. She looked at the knives on the bed before glancing back up at her. “I will let you prepare. Dante said we will have access to the library in an hour.”
“Wait,” Khalida said. “Lucien. Is he going to make an appearance in Rome?”
A flash of annoyance crossed Rieka’s face as her nose scrunched up. She looked up at the ceiling as if she was trying to work out what to say. “I don’t know. Technically, he is my uncle...but I don’t think he is on our side. He stole my mother’s amulet from me.”
Khalida agreed with Rieka. Lucien was a variable she could only count on to cause chaos. “Can you let us know if you sense him.”
Rieka nodded before she closed the door quietly behind her.
Khalida continued to stare at it, the blade still in her hand, not quite believing Talik had recommended she train Rieka.
Was Talik playing a game? She didn’t want to think about the way warmth had spread through her.
It had been a long time since she had sought any sort of reassurance from him, and it shouldn’t have come rushing back, just like it had.
Khalida looked at her bed—two swords and ten knives. Cold steel, unlike guns or blasters, did not malfunction or run out of ammunition.
Next to the knives were two small grenades. The likelihood of needing them and being able to utilize them was slim. Grenades within enclosed spaces were a cave-in waiting to happen. But like a security blanket, she wanted to have them on her rather than need them and have left them behind.
Khalida picked two knives, placing them in her boots before she rolled the cloth with the remaining blades and the grenades and carefully packed them away in her backpack—not before including Sypha’s power in the mix.
An Atlantean could never have too many weapons.
Next, she added the three flashlights and extra batteries, before she swiped a candle off the nearby dresser—she always had a matchbox with her.
Technology and electronics were amazing until they stopped working at the most inconvenient time.
Picking up the backpack, she glanced at the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water as she walked out.
She took one last look at the highly polished silver acting as a mirror.
She couldn’t wear her uniform, but she was still dressed in black.
A long-sleeve black hooded shirt was tucked into her black cargo pants.
The black utility belt hung low on her hips and sheathed two of her knives.
She slowly slid the twin swords across her back.
She sighed, double-checking that she had everything she might need.
Packing and unpacking her bag hadn’t bought her enough time, and it hadn’t changed the fact that she and Talik were working together.
And while she didn’t quite believe everything Sypha said, blatantly disagreeing with the seer was not something she wanted to risk.
At the very least, Talik was just as invested in her living as she was in him.
Neither of them had any plans to die young.
Remembering why she had to stay away from Talik was all she needed.
And to forget the way he was making her feel and question all the past events.
Chemistry had never been lacking between the two of them—but a strong relationship required trust and that had been broken when Sidra died.
Grief could make people do foolish things.
Make them do things they never would do under normal circumstances.
But it could also show their true colors.
For them, grief had not pushed them together but torn them apart, until they could no longer be in the same room as each other without destroying themselves and the other person.
More than five hundred years later, and she still hadn’t quite forgiven herself or Talik for what had happened.
Boundaries.
It was her new mantra. And she would stick to it no matter what.