Epilogue
Sometime later
Strong hands smoothed down my shoulders, working out any tension they found, and I sighed, leaning back and smiling as Auguste crouched behind me, joining me in the pillows on the balcony. The sun was rising over the Nile, the sky hazy and gently pink, the world blue with dawn.
"Does it get old?" I asked Auguste as he curled around my back, staring out at sunrise.
His brows jumped. "You tell me. Does it?"
"No, I don't think it does," I murmured, and he hummed his agreement.
Egypt was nothing like I'd expected, infinitely greener on the river than the waves of sand I'd dreamt of. Cairo was a city both similar and entirely unlike London, dusty and bright, lively and loud, friendly and foreign. And Amon's home…
Was essentially an entire palace, hidden outside of the city, near the water and in the quiet of our own privacy. With all the promised secret passageways, patterned tile floors that echoed with our laughter and conversation, dinner tables laden with decadent dishes every night, and a bedchamber where we all gathered together, where I was worshipped like the queen Amon had promised I would be to him.
"What has you up so early, puisín?" Ezra surprised me with a kiss on my cheek, before settling down at my side, his arm slinging over my shoulders.
"I couldn't sleep," I admitted.
"Because of what we found in the tombs?" Ezra asked.
"No, or at least I don't think so," I said, frowning slightly, watching a small shadow float to the surface of the river before sinking below again. I hadn't really made sense of what we'd found on our last trip to Israel, and for now, I was relieved to leave the puzzle in Jonathon and Amon's hands. "But when I was awake, I realized I hadn't read the cards since we'd gotten back."
Footsteps padded over, Jonathon appearing in the balcony doorway, stretching wide in the sunlight for a moment before smiling down at us.
"Make room. Amon and Booker are on their way."
"We can't sleep if you can't sleep," Auguste whispered in my ear, waggling his eyebrows and then moving to let Jonathon squeeze between us, legs tangling together.
After the night we'd had together, we all deserved to sleep until the midday heat forced us awake, or at least out of our pile. I was still pleasantly sore, in spite of Amon's muscle oil magic.
"For you," Booker said in greeting, handing down a teacup of dark rich coffee, kissing the top of my head and then moving to perch himself like a gargoyle at the edge of the balcony, legs swinging over the gardens below.
"What did your cards have to say this morning?" Ezra asked, stretching a foot out when Booker wasn't looking, threatening to topple my golem off the edge of the balcony. The foot pushed and Booker twisted, blinking at it in confusion, entirely unbothered.
"I think…"
I frowned down at the cards. The Devil, The Page of Wands, The World, The Hierophant, and The Moon.
The Devil I understood—that was certainly to do with Birsha. It had come up often in my readings when I was thinking of him. We had successfully placed ourselves out of reach of Birsha, and some days, it was tempting to consider the idea of forgetting all about the matter, just go on enjoying this new life we'd found. The cards were a constant reminder that this peace was temporary. Birsha hadn't forgotten about me, and sooner or later, our peace would shatter. We needed to be ready.
The Page of Wands was new. I wondered if it might be Magdalena, but she struck me as more of a Queen of Pentacles.
"Esther?" Jonathon prompted, and I cleared my head.
"It's about him. I think we're about to…learn something? Or receive a message. But I'm not sure which and I can't tell who from," I said, frowning, tapping my finger over the cards but not ready to tuck them back into the pile yet.
"Perhaps I can answer that," Amon said, finally appearing.
He was dressed in linen pants and one of my favorite silk robes, his tail swinging freely, feline features and wings out. One of my favorite things about living in Egypt was how relaxed it made Amon. I'd expected him to take his position over us, play the part of the king, but instead his reins only loosened, and he made his own home entirely ours.
I twisted on the cushions and pillows, all of us rearranging into our nest, and Amon knelt in front of me, his tail landing over my lap as he held out a bright white envelope.
"We've received a letter. From…The Company of Fiends," he read, brow furrowed.
"The theater?!" I cried, eyes widening, the memory of our visit there still vivid and delicious.
Amon nodded slowly. "It appears they're having some trouble with Birsha. They're asking for our help, my star."
I grabbed the letter from Amon's hands, holding it out for the others to read over my shoulder.
"Magdalena mentioned us. That means she trusts them," Jonathon murmured.
"Are we ready, do you think?" Auguste asked, brow furrowing and eyes meeting mine.
I bit my lip, eyes rising to Amon's face, his frown clear.