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‘Couldn’t agree more.’ I went into the building with her. ‘Have you seen much yet?’

‘No. I was in the guardhouse,’ Verca said under her breath, ‘but I know this building was once the home of the Vestals, who kept the sacred fire alight. While that fire burned, Rome was said to be protected from its enemies, for the pax deorum – the peace of the gods – was assured.’ She turned a corner, and I followed. ‘The site administrator works in here.’

She led me into a colonnade lined with statues of women. It surrounded a tranquil courtyard, where sunset roses grew and two oblong pools reflected the sky. The walls were pale, while the roof had coral tiles. We headed up a flight of steps, to the second level of the colonnade.

At the end, a man stood outside a doorway, hands in the pockets of his suit jacket. He had smooth russet skin and dark eyes, and a silvered goatee framed his mouth. I hedged a guess that he was in his fifties. A moment later, I recognised him as Rohan Mistry, the former diplomat Arcturus had mentioned. When he saw me, his thick eyebrows furrowed, and he blocked our way.

‘Aspetta un momento,’ he said to me. ‘Tu non puoi stare qui. Come sei entrata?’

‘She’s with me.’ Verca linked my arm. ‘We have an interest in the Forum Project, and—’

‘What’s the matter, Rohan?’

The voice came from beyond the doorway. I was sure that had been an Irish accent.

‘Now you’ve done it.’ Mistry heaved a sigh. ‘In you come.’

He escorted us into a whitewashed room. I expected to see Giosuè Barraco, the architect behind the Forum Project, who I had assumed was the site administrator. Instead, two other people stood inside.

And I knew both of them.

One of them was Antoinette Carter, another fugitive from Scion. Like me, she had survived the Imbolc Massacre. I had seen her only once, the night I had been sent to detain her in London.

The other was Jaxon Hall.

21

KASSANDRA

I gazed at my old mime-lord, my body turning cold. It took all my strength to restrain a frenzied laugh.

The last time I had clapped eyes on Jaxon Hall, I had left him to burn alive in Versailles, where he had been serving as Grand Overseer of the Republic of Scion, laundering voyants to sell to the Rephs.

And now he was somehow in Rome. Of course he was. Jaxon Hall, my own personal ghost, haunting me wherever I walked.

He looked at me with clear disdain, and without a shred of recognition. I was still wearing my dissimulator, and my aura was concealed. To him, I was just some upstart amaurotic.

‘Do somebody get rid of the dullard,’ he said. ‘Why has she been allowed into the Forum?’

‘This is my friend. She’s a student architect,’ Verca said defensively. ‘We wanted to see the Forum, and to meet with Giosuè Barraco.’

I was silent, reeling from the shock. Jaxon ignored me in favour of scrutinising Verca.

You may think me the pawn on this particular board, but I am playing on many others.His voice drifted back to me from the past.And mark my words, we are nowhere close to the endgame.

Even though Jaxon had a way of turning up where I least expected him, he had never expressed a desire to leave the empire of his birth. He still dressed like a denizen.

He had made a failed attempt to meet Carter last year. They must have been able to arrange another rendezvous in the wake of Trafalgar Square.

Every thread in the æther has its purpose, Arcturus had told me. I was going to need a damned good explanation for this one.

‘Giosuè is away,’ Carter said, ‘but we are very interested to meet you. Veronika, was it?’

‘Yes.’

‘And do you know what your gift is, Veronika?’

‘No.’ Verca hesitated. ‘Why would you ask?’