EMPIRE OF ASH AND GOLD.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:The Queen's Enemy

Cleopatra

By sunrise, Alexandria knew.

The palace gates had remained closed through the night, but rumors needed no doors.

An assassin had entered the temple.

A Roman plot had been discovered.

Alexander of Macedon had returned from the dead.

By morning, all three stories had become one.

I stood before the council chamber and listened to the voices beyond the doors.

"Rome will deny everything."

"They always do."

"Then we should send soldiers to the western border."

"And leave Alexandria exposed?"

"They already attacked the queen!"

I closed my eyes.

The council was frightened.

Good.

Fear made people careless.

I opened the doors.

The voices stopped.

Every man in the chamber turned toward me.

I walked to my seat.

"Sit."

They obeyed.

"My palace was attacked last night."

No one interrupted.

"The men who attacked were not Egyptian. One carried a Roman seal. Another carried a Persian symbol."

Murmurs spread across the chamber.

I raised my hand.

Silence returned.

"Until we know who sent them, nobody leaves Alexandria without my permission."

One of the older councillors stood.

"Your Majesty, if Rome is behind this, we must prepare for war."

"We will prepare for whatever comes."

"Then perhaps Alexander should be placed under guard."

My eyes moved to him.

"Why?"

"Because Rome wants him."

"That is precisely why we need him where we can see him."

The councillor lowered his voice.

"Or why we should remove him before Rome does."

Alexander's voice came from behind me.

"Interesting."

Everyone turned.

He stood in the doorway.

He had changed his clothes, but the cut across his shoulder was still visible beneath the edge of his tunic.

He walked into the chamber as though he had been invited.

I frowned.

"I don't remember asking you to join my council."

"You didn't."

Several councillors reached for their weapons.

Alexander noticed.

His expression barely changed.

"I came because someone tried to kill you."

"And?"

"And I thought you might want to know why."

I studied him.

"Speak."

He looked around the room.

"Not in front of them."

One councillor protested.

"This is a matter concerning Egypt."

Alexander looked at him.

"Then you should be pleased I'm trying to keep Egypt from becoming Rome's next battlefield."

The councillor fell silent.

I stood.

"Everyone leaves."

The council erupted.

"Majesty—"

"Now."

One by one, they obeyed.

Soon only Alexander, Charmion, and I remained.

I turned toward him.

"Talk."

He walked to the table.

"The assassin knew about the relic."

My expression changed.

"What relic?"

He looked at me.

"The one beneath the pyramids."

Charmion went still.

I felt a chill run through me.

"How do you know about that?"

"I don't."

"That is not an answer."

"I heard the assassin mention it."

"He said nothing about a relic."

"He said we were brought back."

Silence.

I stared at him.

"Us?"

He nodded.

"That's what he said."

My thoughts raced.

"Who is we?"

"I don't know."

He reached into his tunic and placed the bronze symbol on the table.

The winged sun.

"You said you'd seen this in Babylon."

"Yes."

"How long ago?"

"Before my death."

"Was the relic there?"

"I don't remember."

I studied the symbol.

"What did the Persian priest tell you?"

Alexander's face hardened.

"He told me that men who tried to control what belonged to the gods never lived long enough to enjoy it."

"Did he mention Egypt?"

"No."

"Then why is the same symbol appearing here?"

"I don't know."

His answer frustrated me.

For someone who had once conquered half the known world, he seemed remarkably comfortable admitting ignorance.

I picked up the symbol.

It was cold.

Again.

I quickly placed it back on the table.

Alexander noticed.

"Did it hurt?"

"No."

"You're lying."

I looked at him sharply.

"You seem to enjoy accusing me of that."

"Only when you're doing it."

Before I could answer, a sharp pain flashed beneath my ribs.

I stiffened.

Alexander's expression changed.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

He took a step toward me.

"You're pale."

"I'm tired."

"Your hand."

I looked down.

My fingers were pressed against my ribs.

I hadn't noticed.

I lowered my hand.

"I'm fine."

Alexander continued watching me.

Then he suddenly stopped.

His own hand moved to the same place.

His face tightened.

I stared at him.

He looked at me.

Neither of us spoke.

Charmion glanced between us.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," I said.

At the same time, Alexander said,

"Nothing."

Charmion frowned.

I ignored her.

There were too many questions already.

I didn't need another.

A guard hurried into the chamber.

"Your Majesty."

"What?"

"The Roman envoy has arrived."

My stomach tightened.

"Already?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

The guard hesitated.

"General Cassius Varro."

Alexander's expression became cold.

"He's here."

"You know him?"

"No."

His voice changed.

Not fear.

Recognition.

I noticed.

"Alexander."

He looked at me.

"What?"

"You said you didn't know him."

"I said I hadn't met him."

"Then why did you look at me like that?"

He didn't answer.

The guard waited.

"Where is the general?"

"In the great hall."

I straightened.

"Bring him."

Alexander stepped forward.

"I'll come with you."

"No."

His eyes narrowed.

"Cleopatra—"

"This is my palace."

"And he is here to kill you."

I walked toward the doors.

"Then let him try."

Alexander caught my wrist.

The instant his fingers closed around it, pain shot through my arm.

I gasped.

He released me immediately.

His face had gone pale.

A faint red mark appeared around my wrist.

His fingers had not been hard enough to leave one.

I stared at it.

Then at him.

"Did you feel that?"

He looked at his own hand.

His fingers were trembling.

"Feel what?"

The question sounded forced.

I pulled my wrist back.

"Nothing."

He stared at me.

Neither of us believed the answer.

The great hall waited beyond the doors.

So did the Roman general.

I straightened my crown.

"Stay behind me."

Alexander almost laughed.

"Absolutely not."

I gave him a cold look.

"You are in my kingdom."

"And you're in danger."

"That is my concern."

He stepped beside me.

"Not anymore."

I hated the confidence in his voice.

I hated even more that some part of me felt safer because he was there.

The doors opened.

General Cassius Varro stood at the far end of the hall.

He was dressed in Roman armor, surrounded by six soldiers.

He bowed.

"Queen Cleopatra."

I walked toward him.

"General."

His eyes moved past me.

They settled on Alexander.

For the first time, the Roman looked genuinely shocked.

Alexander stared back.

Then Varro smiled.

Not with surprise.

With satisfaction.

"I had wondered if the reports were true."

Alexander's hand moved toward his sword.

"Reports?"

Varro's smile widened.

"That the dead had begun walking again."

I stepped between them.

"Why are you here?"

Varro looked at me.

"To offer Rome's protection."

I almost laughed.

"After an assassin entered my temple?"

"Rome had nothing to do with that."

"Then you won't object to my guards searching your men."

His smile disappeared.

"Of course not."

I signaled the guards.

They moved forward.

Varro watched them.

Alexander leaned closer to me.

"He's lying."

"I know."

"Then why let him stay?"

"Because I want to know what he came for."

Varro's eyes met mine again.

And this time, I saw it.

A flicker of calculation.

He wasn't here to negotiate.

He was here to confirm something.

His gaze moved briefly toward Alexander.

Then toward me.

Then to the space between us.

As though he were looking at something neither of us could see.

His expression changed.

He whispered something in Latin.

One of his soldiers went pale.

I turned sharply.

"What did he say?"

Varro smiled.

"Nothing important."

Alexander's voice was low.

"Tell her."

Varro looked at him.

"He said..."

The Roman paused.

Then his eyes returned to me.

"...the prophecy has begun."