And when he was ready, when he gave his final nod of consent, I made the shimmering golden veil and waved him right through. Then I turned to Messalina, motioning for her to follow, only to have her shock me to the core when she made no move to join him.
“Messalina was not part of the assignment,” Bodhi said, as though that explained it. “She is not ours to cross over.”
The veil wavered before me, growing increasingly smaller with each passing second. “But what if she wants to cross over? You know, of her own free will? I mean, you do want to cross over, right? You’ve been waiting for this moment for over a thousand years!”
When her gaze shifted to Bodhi, I couldn’t help but sigh. Couldn’t help but turn away, my body strumming with anger as I thought: Great. That’s just great. Here we go again. Another gorgeous girl with a crush on my guide—get in line!
I mean, seriously. Some love story that turned out to be. She swoons after Theocoles for centuries only to dump him at the veil the moment Bodhi with the green eyes arrives.
I felt like a sucker.
The most gullible ghost in the group.
I’d believed in her story—never once doubted their romance—and, as it turns out, it was as fake as the one I’d been engaged in.
“Not to worry,” Bodhi said, trying to comfort me. “There’s a whole group of people waiting for Theocoles, ready to help him get oriented, so don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine. And while Messalina will head over eventually, for now, there’s been a slight change of plans …”
25
Although we ended up traveling a pretty sizeable distance, we chose not to fly.
Or rather, Bodhi and Messalina chose not to fly, Buttercup and I were forced to go along with it.
As it turns out, Messalina didn’t know how to fly. And even though I offered to teach her (figuring if I could teach Buttercup, I could teach anyone), Bodhi was quick to quash it, claiming we had to hurry—that we didn’t have time—and so we boarded a train instead.
I sulked by the window, spending the majority of the ride taking furtive peeks at Bodhi and Messalina, their heads ducked in whisper, paying no mind to me. And after about three and a half hours of steadily rolling down the tracks, the train finally came to a stop, and I was the first to leap up. Sighing and shaking my head as I made for the door, convinced that three and a half hours would’ve proved more than enough time to teach someone to fly.
And, as it turned out, three and a half hours was also enough time to travel from Rome to Venice.
Yep, Venice, Italy—home of canals, grand old waterfront palaces, and gondola rides—a city I’d always dreamed of visiting.
/> A city so beautiful I couldn’t help but gasp as I struggled to take it all in.
A city so ripe with romance I couldn’t help but notice the little pang of regret at my own lost romance, no matter how fake it might’ve been.
We stopped in the middle of St. Mark’s Square, watching Buttercup drive himself bonkers by chasing after flocks of pigeons he couldn’t quite catch. Barking, and growling, and flying and leaping, trying in vain to make contact, and yelping in confusion every time he ended up flying right through them instead.
“Is someone ever going to tell him he’s dead?” I nodded toward my dog, knowing I was acting crabby, and grumpy, and worse, but I think I had good reason. Back in the Colosseum I’d acted nobly, heroically even. I’d willingly forfeited the Soul Catch to end all Soul Catches just so Messalina could be the master of her own happy ending—only to become a burdensome third wheel to their impromptu party. Someone they had no choice but to drag along for the ride.
“Listen, if you want to go on a gondola ride or something, feel free. Buttercup and I will wait here.” I slumped to the ground, made myself comfortable, determined to make the best of a not so great situation, but still unable to stop myself from adding, “I mean, all I did was help Messalina snare the Soul Catch of the century—something I probably won’t get any credit for—even though it was my idea—my words that awakened Theocoles. But hey, whatever, no biggie. I mean, it’s not like I’m not used to it by now—in fact, I—”
Messalina looked at me, pressed a finger to her lips, and the gesture alone was enough to remind me.
I was doing it again.
Allowing myself to get lost in the soundtrack of my own sad story instead of what really, truly mattered—the fact that I was in Venice—something definitely worth celebrating. I mean, so what if they were planning to ditch me, at least I still had my dog.
“C’mere Buttercup!” I patted my knees, laughing in hysterics when he came bounding toward me, leaping with such enthusiasm I fell to the ground where I was instantly assaulted by a ridiculous amount of slobbery licks. “Alright already!” I laughed, pushing him away and getting him settled beside me. But only for a moment before he was up again, paws dancing wildly as he thrust his nose into the air and barked at something behind me. “What is it? What is it boy?” I craned my neck, but still couldn’t see what he saw.
“Why don’t we go find out?” Bodhi said, motioning for us to follow as he traipsed down a maze of narrow, pedestrian-only alleyways, easing our way around hordes of tourists juggling armfuls of overflowing shopping bags, and slowing when we came to the door of a beautiful big old palace that butted right up against the water, as Bodhi waved us all through the locked door.
Buttercup sprinted ahead, barking in excitement as he tore up several flights of steep marble stairs, and it wasn’t until I’d reached the landing that I heard it.
It was a song—one that could never be mistaken for anything other than what it was.
It was a song I knew well, in fact, it was one of my favorites.
It was the birthday song—and they were singing it for me.