Page 25
As a young girl she had refused to venture near any rail above the Thames, convinced she might slip and fall through and be swallowed up by the black water.
She felt no such fear now as she and Ramses walked along the Seine towards the great looming shadow of Notre Dame.
She could swim the length of this river without tiring if she chose. Together they could follow it all the way out to sea and take up residence on some isolated island where terrible storms and shorelines composed entirely of jagged cliffs would make it impossible for mortals to intrude. There they would find a seclusion that would allow them to study their every passing thought as one would jewels.
For a delirious instant, she thought perhaps she and Ramses should do just that, right now. But she knew that they had no choice but to return to London, and the sooner now the better.
It was a warm spring evening and they had shed their coats, and she her top hat, so that her hair hung loose in a tangle of curls against the back of her white dress shirt. Passersby must have thought her an elegant street musician with a penchant for men's fashions. Warmth and severe cold, as well as the intrusive social prejudices of others: these things would never trouble her again, thanks to the elixir. Also among its gifts, heightened senses which allowed her to detect whether or not there was actual substance in distant shadows and to commit large volumes of text to memory in several minutes' time. When she was blessed with these things, it was nearly impossible not to shirk off tiresome, everyday obligations.
"You are troubled?" Ramses asked, taking her hand in his.
"No, not troubled. Merely thoughtful."
"Share these thoughts with me."
There was some of the king in this command, but also the counselor. For he had played the latter role for thousands of years and reigned as pharaoh for only sixty.
"I was thinking on what might cause someone in our position to eventually prefer seclusion," she answered.
"Interesting. Without a companion, the thought seems unbearable to me. For me, seclusion meant only sleep. It was preferable only when the demands of those who had called me into service became too much to bear."
"And so you don't dream now of our taking up residence on some distant island where mortals cannot dwell?"
"Is this what you dream of, Julie?"
"I'm not quite sure. The possibility seems utterly tempting. But as
one of a thousand. Or a million. All of which we have time enough now to sample."
Ramses smiled and drew her close to him as they walked. "It is such a different thing to enjoy this gift with you, Julie. Such a different thing to enjoy it with anyone. But most especially you."
"It must be. You refer to it now as a gift. Before it was a curse and you, Ramses the Damned. But I can't imagine you referring to yourself in this way now. This pleases me, Ramses. It pleases me greatly."
"Yes, I see now that it was not immortality that was a curse, but the role I gave to myself. That of counselor. I regret it not for a moment. But it became unbearable. And I can no longer blame my past torment solely on Cleopatra's fall."
"Or Egypt's fall," Julie whispered.
"Yes. There was a hunger in me for a new life. But I couldn't envision it. So I gave myself over to the sands of time itself. Your father's discovery of me, my awakening. These are pieces of a grand destiny, and you, Julie, the most wonderful part of it."
Impossible not to fold into his arms at this, to delight in the feel of his hot breath against the back of her neck as he embraced her. The hour was late, but before the elixir, such a public display of affection would have seemed beyond the pale. Even in Paris.
"We need not return to London, Julie. Not if it isn't what you wish."
"Oh, but it is. It isn't simply for Alex, Ramses. I want this party, this betrothal, for myself and for you. I need it. I can't quite sever all ties. And I need to walk into the offices of Stratford Shipping and make certain all is well for myself. And besides...what if this creature can find Alex? What if she has enough knowledge to track him to London?"
"She can easily find him and find us," said Ramses. "Such are the times. Newspapers, telegraphs, photographs."
Julie was beginning to realize they might have to remain in England simply to protect Alex Savarell. But she didn't want to commit to this as yet. Only time would reveal whether the revenant Cleopatra was interested in any of them. And then there was Elliott. Elliott was now quite capable of defending his son from any assault by the monster. How she hated to disturb Elliott now, to distract him from the things Elliott felt he had to do.
She steered Ramses to a bench along the river, a comfortable iron bench on which they could sit and watch those strolling past.
"Should we cable Elliott?" she asked. "Let him know about Cleopatra?"
"Not yet," said Ramses. "We'll leave for London tomorrow if you wish. I would rather Elliott completed his plans. His family is depending on him. I love these people because you love them; and I am bound to them because you're bound to them. If it does turn out that Cleopatra comes to London to search for young Savarell, well, then we can send for Elliott."
This moved her deeply. She wasn't sure it was wise to say so. What a complex and loving being Ramses was. And Julie realized it would have broken her heart had he not loved Elliott.
Elliott Savarell had been her father's closest friend. She even suspected the two men of having been lovers in their youth. In fact she was sure of it.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25 (Reading here)
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131