“Capri used to be part of the mainland, and was peopled during the Neolithic age. Colonized by the Teleboi, then the Greeks of Cumae. The Romans took it over in 328 BC.
“But Augustus—ninth century—developed it. Temples, gardens, villas, the aqueducts. Tiberius, who came after him, built more. And the remains of his villa are on top of Monte Tiberio. We’re heading that way, though it’s a hike yet.”
“Have you been there?” Sasha asked her.
“Yeah, it’s been a while. I came with my parents. Hell of a place, Villa Jovis, even now, and more than worth exploring if that’s what we’re after.”
“A god might enjoy having her own HQ in what remains of a Roman emperor’s villa,” Bran speculated.
“Yeah.” Riley thought of it while they continued the steep climb. “It’s got some grandeur left, but it’s a long way from private. You see people going up, like us, people coming down? That’s likely the destination. It’s a big draw on the island.”
“The island’s potholed with caves,” Doyle pointed out.
“It is.” As she walked, Riley sent him a curious glance. “Have you been here before?”
“I have. Longer ago than you. Petty wars. The English and French wanted Capri, fought over it.”
“In 1806—French occupation overthrown by the English. In 1807, French take it back. Which side were you on?”
“Both.” He shrugged. “It was something to do. It’s changed in two hundred years. The roads, the houses, the funicular. But the land takes longer to change. I know some of the caves, the grottos.”
“The Grotta Azzurra.” Annika beamed. “It’s so beautiful. I, too, visited with my family to bathe in the water and the light.”
“The Blue Grotto seems like a slam dunk for a Water Star,” Sawyer imagined. “Which is probably why it won’t be.”
“Its light burns blue only after it’s lifted. Now it waits, cold and quiet.”
They stopped, turned to Sasha. Bran laid a hand on her arm. “What else do you see?”
“Her. I see her, through the smoke and broken mirrors. Nerezza, the mother of lies. She’ll make her palace in the dark, of the dark, and there forge a new weapon against us. Promises of power seeded on thirsty ground. She waters with blood. A new dog for a new day.”
Sasha fumbled for Bran’s hand. “How did I do?”
“You did well. Headache?”
“No. No, I’m fine. I let it come. I can’t bring it, but I can let it come.”
“Your face is pale.” Digging in her pack, Annika took out a water bottle. “Water helps.”
“It does.”
“So does food, and there’s some up ahead. I smell pizza,” Riley said.
“Wolf nose,” Sawyer commented.
“That’s exactly right. I vote lunch.”
Riley’s nose proved accurate. In under a quarter mile they sat outside a little roadside trattoria.
“Have you got your sketch pad?” Sawyer asked Sasha.
“Never leave home without it.”
“Can I borrow it a minute? I want to get something down while it’s fresh.”
Intrigued, Sasha pulled out her pad, a case of pencils. “You never said you drew.”
“Not like you.”