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‘You think I should try to see it, then?’

‘Sala clearly has great passion for this project, despite the opposition she has faced. Unless you can find a more concrete lead, this seems a good place to direct your interest.’

‘Okay. Any other lines of investigation?’

‘Not in my opinion.’ He shut the dossier and held it out. ‘Sala has a presidential estate in Castelporziano, on the outskirts of Rome, but I imagine Domino has already looked there.’

‘The Forum, then.’ I accepted the dossier. ‘Thank you. I knew you’d narrow down my options.’

‘Will you leave at once?’

‘I might talk to Verca first. She studied architecture in Italy. Maybe she worked on the Forum Project.’ I sighed. ‘I’m a mob boss. How and why am I suddenly investigating Roman ruins?’

‘This war will be conducted in many arenas. I trust in your ability to adapt.’

‘Thanks.’ I took note of his eyes. ‘Arcturus, you have to feed, and it’s not safe for you to go out. If Scion gets wind that you’re not on Capri—’ I couldn’t finish. ‘Just use my aura. I know you’re trying to be noble, but I’m offering.’

‘Your connection to the æther will not sustain us both when you are taking alysoplasm.’

‘You were already in a bad way, and now you’re having to poison yourself. I don’t know how you’re expecting to hold out much longer,’ I said. ‘Have the bullets come out?’

‘No. I suspect that I must take aura before my body will expel them.’ Arcturus avoided my gaze. ‘I will leave at dusk. I am more likely to move unseen once darkness has fallen.’

‘Suit yourself.’ I stood. ‘Be careful.’

I left, closing his door behind me. As I returned to my own room, I took out my phone.

It’s Paige, I wrote to Verca. Do you know anything about the Forum Project?

After a few minutes, she answered: A few of the top students from the University of Florence were invited to work on it, but I declined, as I wasn’t especially interested in conservation architecture – my area of interest was interior design. I regret it now, as I’ve found its progress fascinating.

Sala is involved. I’m wondering if I can pick up her trail there.

It is her pet project. It won’t open until next year, but I’m sure I still have the letter inviting me to attend the site. I can bring that and my diploma, and we’ll try our luck.

When are you getting here?

I’ll be on the earliest flight tomorrow. I can meet you in the Campidoglio at 11, if that works for you?

I sent back an affirmative. Given the amount of secrecy surrounding the Forum Project, I doubted I would get in there without my gift, but Verca might be able to talk us in.

For now, I would explore. I donned my dissimulator and left the Chiostro del Bramante. Under the afternoon sun, I walked across dark cobbles, past buildings built and painted in the pastel shades of dawn. Here and there, iron lanterns reached over the winding streets, lush green leaves cascaded down the walls, and people rode scooters and bikes.

Not being able to feel any spirits or dreamscapes was unsettling, but my other five senses were overwhelmed as it was. Though Rome was a touch calmer than Naples, it sprawled across more ground than Venice. I wove between flocks of people, finding shade under archways and awnings.

The first place I approached was the Palazzo Chigi, where the Prime Minister worked. The square was full of surveillance cameras and vehicles markedpolizia, and guards flanked the gates of the building. Cade could be living nearby, a constant lurking threat to Rinaldi. All of this security meant nothing to a dreamwalker.

I sat on the edge of a fountain and watched passers-by for a while. It was futile to think one might be Cade, but even in a city I didn’t know, I could only rely on the sort of tactics I had used in London and Paris. If I did happen to see him, I had already decided that I would tail him to an isolated spot and knife him. He wouldn’t sense me coming.

After a while, the guards noticed me. I left before they could question my interest in the building.

I walked to my next stop, passing a striking landmark called the Trevi Fountain. According to Omnia, the statue presiding over it was supposed to be Oceanus, an ancient god of fresh water. He had originated in Greece, where every trace of him would be long gone.

A young couple took a picture of themselves in front of his pool. As they grinned, a pickpocket relieved one of them of a wallet. At least some things never changed.

The Palazzo del Quirinale was up a shallow incline. I climbed a set of steps to reach it. Once again, I sat down and observed my surroundings for a while, but there was no sign of Cade.

Of course not. This wasn’t Scion. Without my gift I didn’t know where to start looking for one man. I would give it another couple of days, to buy Ducos time to get Arcturus out, then let the alysoplasm wear off, so I could probe the æther. It would be a significant risk, but there might not be any other way to confirm whether or not Cade was here.