Return to Me - By Morgan O'Neill Page 0,39

had survived. It is a relief to know the other children will be protected by Frideger’s sword and will doubtless survive, too.”

“Now we’ll just have to convince Athaulf and Placidia to let us take their kids, so that we can protect them, too.”

“Still a very tall order. Would you allow your children to be taken away, forever?”

“That’s why I’m convinced the only way is to tell them the truth, the whole truth. We have to find the right time, and soon. We have to convince them it’s the only way.”

Magnus considered this for a moment, and then shook his head. “We can’t tell them how much we know of the future — certainly not that Athaulf is supposed to die this year. They would think it sorcery, or that we have lost our wits. I have decided I must do whatever it takes to protect Athaulf, the course of history be damned. I will not stand by and let his slayer act, unhindered. But Athaulf and Placidia cannot know of this, not yet. We must think this through and plan accordingly. For now, the children’s best protection, and my first priority, is to save Athaulf.”

Gigi watched as concern clouded Magnus’s expression. This was a risky plan, and the course of history would be changed, but he was right. They had to keep their secret and fight against the future they knew. If they failed, then and only then could they tell Placidia the truth of where they’d been the past four years, and why they’d come back.

She shook her head as she thought of Placidia’s current heartache and all the heartache yet to come.

Magnus gently took her face in his hands and kissed her. “Come, my sweet,” he said. “Let me hold you.”

“Yes, hold me,” Gigi whispered. “Promise you will hold me forever and never let me go.”

He folded her in his arms. “I promise I will never let you go.”

Chapter 10

Ravenna, Italy

Dipsas stood in the baptistery, staring at the pulpit. Something strange, well beyond her ken, had happened here.

The emperor watched her, his dark brown eyes hooded, suspicious. She wasn’t concerned about him, however. She would prove her worth.

“You say, O Great One, that your flutist, one Horace, disappeared, and the woman, another flutist, appeared to take his place?”

Honorius nodded, and then turned to his axe-bearing guards. “Out,” he ordered them. “We wish to be alone with Dipsas. We would speak to her in private.”

They obeyed without question. She walked to the pulpit and placed her hands upon it, then closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“What do you see?” Honorius asked.

There was very little, really, just a whirl of stars, mere pinpricks, as if she had bent over too fast and then righted herself. She sighed in frustration, but she knew patience was necessary, and if she waited, something would come.

Breathing deeply, she let her thoughts coalesce, and slowly a shape took form, a woman rising from the glittering mist. Dipsas kept her eyes closed and concentrated, but the figure remained maddeningly indistinct, like a faded memory.

She opened her eyes. “O Great One, do you have anything that belonged to her?”

Honorius nodded. “A ring and … indeed, we think someone must still have the gown she wore.”

“Command the gown be brought to me,” Dipsas said. “I shall learn more once I have touched that which knew the warmth of her body.”

“Will you be able to tell us where she was born? We shall lavish great riches upon you if you could also find out where she and Magnus hid for four years.”

Dipsas stroked the edge of the marble pulpit, so smooth and cool to the touch. “I do not need riches,” she demurred. “Serving you is reward enough, my lord.”

But that was a lie. Hiding her smile, she glanced at Honorius. He gloated in her flattery, feeling powerful, but this was mere illusion.

She thought of the world and all its denizens. The emperor would be dust soon enough. As would they all.

• • •

Africanus had spent grueling days going over every detail he knew about Magnus and Gigiperrin’s near capture and escape. He’d been grilled by Honorius and his advisors regarding their strange possessions. And he had watched the emperor use the so-called lightning bolt weapon on prisoners and slaves. He’d also shown him detailed drawings of the body of the soldier who had been killed by the other weapon — a weapon that had produced a sound like thunder and ripped through the man’s chest, killing him instantly.

Unimaginable