Cursed Sight

by T. G. Ayer

  After returning the hug, Allegra sank to the ground and cuddled Pepper. She’d never been overly fond of dogs, but the sight of Xenia’s baby, emaciated and dying as he searched the streets of a deserted water-front for food, had opened her heart to the creature. Pepper seemed to understand her change in affection, and enjoyed every second of the cuddles and scratching she provided.

  “Pepper get down. Leave her alone for a bit.” Xenia was laughing as she patted the dog on his head and then gently shoved him aside. “I need time with my bestie first.”

  Allegra laughed. “You’re competing with a dog for my attention?”

  Xenia chuckled. “I’m competing with the world for your attention.” She tilted her head and studied Allegra. “I like the disguise.”

  Allegra shrugged, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin. The strappy sundress she wore had arrived courtesy of the Ambassador’s wife, and she’d been grateful. Although she’d done a little shopping in Athens, she’d not had sufficient time—with abductions and plague-chases across the world—for attending to her wardrobe.

  And she certainly couldn’t wear brown leather pants and her usual dress if she wanted to remain under the radar.

  Xenia studied Allegra’s bare shoulder, her eyes traveling to the yellow, crushed-silk dress. Its high-waisted style had a very Roman feel, but it ended three and a half hand spans above Allegra’s knee. It was scandalously short, though mostly appropriate as poolside attire. Partly the reason Allegra had chosen to hide behind the hat and shades.

  Her friend completed her examination of Allegra’s dress and then sniffed. “Allegra Damascus, you are one woman who couldn’t buy fashion sense even if it kicked you in the eye.”

  “Huh?” Allegra laughed so hard she almost fell off her chair. “What in Apollo’s name was that?”

  “What?” asked Xenia airily. “Metaphors, dear. I’m sure you know what they are.”

  “Not sure you’re meant to use them like that.”

  Xenia shook her head and waved her hand at the waiter who came scurrying as if royalty had just summoned him. The look he gave Allegra implied she’d risen in his estimation tenfold just by occupying the same shade as Xenia. Allegra gave him another cheery smile, glad all he could see was her nose, chin, and her bright white teeth.

  He took their order of two iced dark Ghanas and sailed between the tables as if Caesar himself had placed the order. Xenia sniffed, glaring at his disappearing back.

  “Was he like that to you the entire time?”

  Allegra smiled. “I don’t mind if it means I can stay out of the limelight. We could be sent home today for all I know. The last thing I need is controversy.”

  Despite Allegra’s words, Xenia didn’t seem placated. Her dark skin turned darker as she glared across the patio, and into the room within.

  Allegra reached over and grabbed her hand. “Don’t make a scene. I want to remain unnoticed.”

  Xenia laughed at that. “I suppose Pepper and I didn’t help much in that regard.”

  “Not in the least.” Allegra squeezed Xenia’s hand and asked, “What are you doing in this part of the world, anyway?”

  Xenia gave another airy shrug. “I was just in the area.”

  Allegra snorted. “Area?” she asked leaning forward. “I call bullshit,” she whispered.

  Xenia shook her head. “No good trying to lie-” she stopped sharply, stared down at their hands, where Allegra was still holding onto her fingers, and snatched her hand away. “You…did you…”

  Allegra smirked. “Antsy, aren’t we?”

  Xenia narrowed her eyes and glared at Allegra. “Past experience, you know.”

  Allegra sighed. “I know. And no. I didn’t ‘get’ anything. It’s not consistent. And with the threat that hangs over this place, I don’t believe it applies to you. As long as you don’t plan on sticking around for too long.” The warning in Allegra’s voice was all too clear.

  And Xenia wasn’t oblivious. “Okay, okay. I can take a hint.” She scanned the patrons of the restaurant and then said, “What’s the special?”

  “Charred Pepper Chicken and Crispy Blood Cakes.”

  Allegra’s words hung in the air between the two girls. Xenia’s face was suddenly devoid of expression. Allegra hid a smile. She knew very well how Xenia disliked offal of any type.

  “Blegh.”

  Their drinks arrived, saving Allegra from responding, and she waited, her eyes on the pool as her drink was set before her and the waiter took their food order.

  “Two of your Chicken and Blood. Just make sure mine loses the blood along the way.” The waiter grinned widely and wrote the order in his little writing pad. He left, but not before offering Allegra a hesitant smile. She gave him the same cheery grin as before, but it seemed to have the reverse effect to what she’d intended, and he left flustered.

  “Guess he doesn’t like my smile.”

  “Not when you smile like a maniacal idiot.”

  “What?” Allegra knew she should have been insulted, but she was more amused than anything. Xenia had zero ability to get her angry.

  Zero.

  Xenia leaned forward, her action secretive. She’d be such a bad spy. “So, anyway . . . I have something for you.”

  Allegra lifted her eyebrows, both curious and wary. Xenia’s idea of a surprise bordered on the crazy. She’d once hired a pair of female Sumo oil-wrestlers as a surprise for Allegra all because Allegra had found both Sumo wrestlers and oil wrestlers fascinating.

  Xenia was unpredictable.

  “So, I’m very well aware you are lacking in the . . . wardrobe department.”

  “Whatever makes you say that?” Allegra lifted an eyebrow, unable to hide her smile.

  Xenia paid her amusement little attention. Instead, she scanned Allegra’s dress again and said, “That affront to dress design, for one.”

  Allegra’s jaw dropped. “I’ll have you know this was a gift from the ambassador’s wife.”

  Xenia snorted. “Then the ambassador’s wife needs to go shopping for fashion sense first before she buys any more clothing, and especially before she thinks she’s qualified to dress other people.”

  “Xenia,” Allegra admonished, glancing around her in the hope that her friend’s words hadn’t been overheard.

  Xenia made a rude sound then said, “I’ve sent some clothing over to your room. I need you to fit them. I think I got the sizing right, but I wanted to be sure.”

  “Xenia, the last thing I need is to behave like a fashion icon or a Vestal Virgin. You know that’s not the way I want to present myself. I may not actually have a choice in much of that image, but I will retain control of the image I want to portray.”

  “Yeah. An image that has always been one of shriveled up, drugged-up old cronies?”

  Allegra didn’t dignify that with a response.

  “You need to project an image of someone who is beautiful, yet approachable. Mythical, but not untouchable.”

  “And how do you propose I do that?”

  Xenia waved a hand in the air. “By dressing the part. It’s where every actor begins.”

  “I’m not an actor.”

  “Kid yourself not.” Xenia shook her head. “You are an actor. You are a figurehead now, whether you want to be or not. Aurelia sequestered herself away from the world because she grew tired of the people’s needs, their demands. You can’t let that happen to you. You need to project a sense that you are approachable, but only on your terms. Then, and only then, can you dictate where you spend your time.”

  “I see. And clothing will do that?”

  “Clothing.” Xenia smiled. “And being a badass.”

  Chapter 7

  Allegra paced before the wide-open windows. The view from the top of the pyramid was stunning. They’d arrived in the middle of the day, and now, as the sun was beginning to dip beyond the mountains on the horizon, she saw another side of the city.

  As the light faded, torches began to flicker around t
he city, lighting the steps of the multitude of pyramids. Out of the darkness, the stone structures appeared, their rocky surfaces both sinister and beautiful in the flickering golden firelight.

  The door to the apartment opened, and Allegra turned on her heel to see Max step into the room. He looked strained and tired, and she suspected the Ambassador hadn’t made things easy.

  “How did it go?”

  Max’s lip curled in disgust. “He’s being difficult. And I’m yet to figure out why.”

  “Do you think it’s Aulus?”

  Max shook his head, but didn’t elaborate. Allegra suspected he didn’t want to admit that Aulus was more interested in Allegra’s success than her failures. She had to wonder though. Aulus had made it very clear he—and the NGS government—wanted the power of the Pythia under their exclusive control.

  But, how many things would she really be able to influence on their behalf? Perhaps they wished her to clean up any governmental messes. Or be there to predict if anything was about to go wrong that would affect the interests of the NGS.

  Politics was intriguing, but Allegra didn’t have the time or the inclination to ponder it.

  “You’d think they would want to help us succeed,” she murmured as she sank into a nearby armchair.

  Max closed in and took the seat across from her. He sighed and leaned into the soft cushions at his back. “To be brutally honest, I have no idea what is going on.” He wiped his face and pressed his fingers into his eyes. They were both beginning to feel the effects of jet lag.

  “What exactly did he say?” Allegra lifted her bare feet and tucked them under her. She’d soaked in the tub for a while, hoping warmth from the geyser heated water would encourage sleep but she was oddly rejuvenated after her bath. Not exactly the result she’d wanted.

  Max grunted. “Apparently the Qusquan ruling party contacted him while we were still in the air. There was a passenger who’d made a complaint about being mishandled on board—”

  “That creep of a man who’d attacked me?”

  Max shrugged. “Possibly. He didn’t say. What he did impress upon me is that his hands are pretty much tied unless he wants to provoke an international incident.”

  Allegra’s spine stiffened. “Does he realize that blocking my access could also do the same thing?”

  “Clearly he is more afraid of angering the Qusquan government than he is of breaking any Treaty of Pythia rules.” Max sat forward. “He took me to meet with his contact, but the man gave us the runaround. We sat in their waiting room for an hour only to be told he can’t see us.”

  “What?” Allegra frowned. “That’s rude, isn’t it. Don’t governments follow a more respectful behavioral tradition? I thought the Qusquan’s still bore a strong Greco-Roman diplomacy ethic.”

  Max shook his head. “I suspect there is way more going on than just a revocation of a visa.”

  “You mean a violation of Treaty.” Allegra sighed. “Do you think he’s being threatened?”

  When Max glanced up at her from beneath hooded eyes, Allegra said, “Seems the ambassador didn’t want to meet me—which I find strange—so what do you suppose he was afraid of?” Allegra lifted a brow and watched Max straighten.

  “You’re right. Perhaps he didn’t want to have to shake your hand. Had you touched him you may have seen something he’d rather keep to himself.”

  Max got to his feet and began to pace the patterned carpet. The pile was a deep red, covered in tiny, intricate geometric patterns so distinctive of the Qulla culture.

  Max stopped in his tracks and faced Allegra. “That could be it. His behavior was odd, a little bit relaxed and familiar and then a little terse and unhelpful.”

  “Sounds like something is amiss. We should investigate him further.”

  Max began to nod, then stopped the movement, his eyes narrowing as he scanned Allegra’s face. “Is there a particular reason you’re so adamant about him?” Max turned and gave Allegra his undivided attention, his face darkening. “What did you see?”

  Allegra gave a delicate shudder. She’d gotten fairly used to the visions over the last few weeks, but she still wasn’t entirely comfortable with what she was capable of doing. Max sat on the sofa, the fabric and straw filling giving a low squeak.

  The sound brought her attention back to his question. “When the passenger touched me . . . I saw the destruction as if it was happening at that moment.” Allegra paused, barely breathing as she recalled the sight of the city sliding down the side of the mountain. “With the pandemic, it was different, as I saw only what happened after the plague hit.”

  “But would that be so unusual considering your first vision was of the city’s destruction itself.”

  Max had a point, and Allegra opened her mouth to agree. But before she replied she realized it wasn’t the vision of the city that was bugging her.

  Max frowned. “Did you see something else when you touched that man?”

  Allegra hid a smile. Since the day he’d walked into her life, attempting to convince her that mythical beings and fairy tales were true, it had felt as if he’d known her all her life.

  Max knew her too well. Allegra’s smile disappeared at the reminder of their relationship issues. She lifted her chin and kept her features neutral. “What do you know about the ambassador’s secretary?”

  Max lifted an eyebrow. “Les?

  “Is that her name? The dark-haired woman who brought us up?”

  Max nodded. “Yes. Les. Celestra Avesta. She’s been with the ambassador for two years now.”

  “So, you know her?” Allegra was beginning to feel like she was pulling teeth. What was Max holding back? She leaned forward. “You know her, don’t you?”

  He shifted his gaze away. “She used to work for Senator Calvinius in the Capital.” Max shifted in his seat then turned his attention back to Allegra, his expression now determined as if he’d made a decision. “I know her because we were together . . . dating . . . for a while.”

  If Allegra hadn’t learned to keep her emotions to herself, she would have flinched from the shock of Max’s revelation. Still, Max’s face darkened as he studied her lack of response.

  Allegra swallowed and uncurled her legs, placing her feet on the ground. “You should have told me.”

  She hadn’t meant it to sound like an accusation, but it did.

  Max seemed not to have noticed. He was looking over her shoulder again. “It’s just there’s baggage there. I didn’t want to create more problems. We have enough of our own as it is.”

  Allegra restrained herself from agreeing. Yes. They had enough of their own problems. But they were in the here and now. For the moment. And she had to tackle the first hurdle, especially coming on the back of Max’s relationship revelation.

  She cleared her throat. “She touched me.”

  Max’s eyes snapped back to Allegra’s face, his eyebrows lifting. “What did you see?” he asked softly.

  Allegra pushed to her feet and began to pace the very same line Max had walked only minutes ago.

  “She’s going to be murdered. I think she may be mixed up in something that could have gotten her killed.”

  Max got to his feet. “That’s a bit vague.” His tone was a little sharp, but Allegra took no offense. She’d been deliberately vague. What would he do with the information she could give him?

  What could he do?

  She sighed and faced him. “I saw her dead. That’s all I know. The rest will be supposition and assumption unless you have a way to find out more.”

  “I will damn well try.” Max’s voice broke, and he strode away to the window, staring out at the night view. Allegra knew he saw none of its intriguing beauty.

  She walked closer to him. “Do you want to tell me a little about her? Maybe if we figure out what she could be involved in, then we could at least try to prevent her death.”

  Max nodded but still didn’t respond.

  Allegra shifted to face him, putting a hand on his sh
oulder. “Is there a way for you to get her recalled to the capital?”

  Max startled, glancing at her in surprise. “That’s a good idea. She’d have to go and she won’t be lying. If she’s involved with dangerous people, the fact that the embassy is relocating her would give her a justifiable out that is beyond her control.”

  “It’s a possibility.” Max rubbed his chin. “I’ll see what I can do. But I think I may need to talk to her first.”

  “No.” Allegra’s response was a little too vehement, but she didn’t care.

  “Allegra.” Max spoke patiently as if he was forcing himself to remain calm. “You can’t be making decisions for me. Or for Celestra.”

  Allegra shook her head. She knew what Max was really saying; You can’t tell me what to do when it comes to Celestra. “Max. I can because I was the one who saw her lying there, throat slit, beaten beyond recognition.”

  Max stiffened. “Beaten beyond recognition?” He paused, color returning to his face. “Maybe it wasn’t Les?”

  Allegra gripped his arm a little tighter. “I may not have recognized her face, but the dress she is wearing today was on a hanger beside her bed. And I was touching her hand when I got the vision. I don’t get visions of people who I am not touching.”

  Max hung his head. Defeated, he stepped out of her grasp and returned to the sofa. “You’re sure it was her?” he asked softly.

  “It was her. But if you speak to her about it, you may frighten her. If she still cares for you, she will run if it means protecting you.”

  “How can you know what she would do?”

  “Because it’s common sense. And it’s what I would do if I were in her position.” The moment the words left her mouth, Allegra realized the extent of what he could read into her words.

  And when he looked at her she knew he’d read as she’d expected. But they didn’t have the time to waste rehashing their own trust issues. More especially since someone else was now playing a key role in their decision-making process.

  Max sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “As much as I’d love to keep discussing this, we need to get ready. The ambassador is throwing you a party at his home, and we have two hours to get ready.”