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Gods’ wrath, it really did. We made it back.

CHAPTER 30

ROXILANA, 19 YEARS OLD

55 AD, Somewhere in the northwestern Amazon Basin

After my lastexperience on the ley line, I know I should stay away from it. But I cannot help but notice the magical doorway the next time I visit my child’s grave. The sight of it makes me feel something other than grief—something that connects me to my child. It feels like a beginning to an ending and an escape all at once. And so when I feel the pull to approach it—then enter it—again, I give into temptation and return to the ley line.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Even once we pack up camp and move sites, I take to finding the closest portal I can, and then I enter it, sometimes with Memnon but mostly without him. Each time, I ask to go to the Khuno River Palace or to my child’s gravesite or else to return home. It becomes easy to travel along the ley line, now that I understand it simply wants something in return for its help.

Sometimes I give it a lock of hair. Sometimes I sing it a song. Sometimes I present it with a coin or small bauble froma faraway place. I’ve come to find that it likes unusual things,humanthings. It’s an exercise in creativity, making sure I have something to offer the unearthly magic for both the travel to and from my destination.

The magical road can be fickle, moody even. More than once, it’s rejected my gift and I’ve had to come up with another. But when it works…when it works, I get to travel to places that are far beyond my normal reach.

And the more I go to the river palace, the more comfortable I get in that strange and beautiful place. I take to bringing my wax tablet and stylus with me, as well as the scrolls I’m studying. So far, I’ve learned Latin and a little Greek, and I’m ever eager to know more.

And when I’m not studying, I find myself working on my magic, usually by adding spells to the property—wards to keep the world out or enchantments to make eyes wander and curious trespassers turn away from this piece of land.

It is likely not needed—there are plenty of spells cloaking this palace—but none of them aremine. So I add my own like lace, usually at the beginning and end of my time here.

Today, after placing an enchantment on the back of the property, where a pool sits nestled amongst those marble trees, I settle myself in the dining room. My scrolls are already spread out and my wax tablet awaits.

I’ve just poured myself a glass of wine and begun to look over my work when I hear the bronze doors groan open.

Memnon?I call out across our bond.

Gods, your voice does things to me, he says.Are you back from the river palace already?

I smother a smile.Are you still at camp?I ask.

Yes.And if you’re here, you could save me from my mother and these crotchety advisors right now.

I hear the soft tread of footfalls on the marble floors.

Someone’s here, at the palace, I tell Memnon

What?The teasing tone bleeds out of his voice.Who?

I glance toward the entrance, unable to see the intruder.

I don’t know.

Ready your magic and strike first, he says.I’m coming.

My power floods down my arms, gathering in my palms as the intruder enters the room.

Striding in, draped in clothes as fine as they are foreign, is the fae woman I met during my wedding celebration, Ilyapa’s advisor.

Eislyn, my mind whispers.

Eislyn?Memnon echoes, clearly eavesdropping on my thoughts.What is she doing there?