by Allie Burton
“How are your scratches from the skylight?”
“Changing the subject?”
“Yes.” The single word brooked no defiance. “Give me your arm.”
The demand and the ask-no-questions attitude rubbed salt in my small wounds. And yet, his gentle touch sent a toasty hum down my skin. He ran his fingers up and down my arm, cruising over the injuries. The scratches stopped bleeding. The skin around the wound puckered, tightened.
Healed.
The flying sensation returned, except my feet were firmly planted on the ground. I couldn’t believe what I’d seen. Experienced. “Did you heal me?”
“It’s my fault you were injured.”
Which wasn’t really an answer, but showed Math took his responsibilities seriously. Another heroic trait.
Aaron had said Math was a bad, probably crazy, Soul Warrior. Now, I knew he had powers from an ancient Egyptian amulet. Knew the magic Aaron and the Order professed to have was real. What I didn’t know was who was telling me the full truth.
Did Math plan to destroy the trumpet so peace could never happen on earth? Was Aaron poisoning Mom with the intent to sacrifice her? Who should I believe?
The biggest question: could Math heal Mom?
The urge to ask clogged in my throat. I wanted to spew out the question. I snapped my mouth shut, caution holding me back. If I told Math the truth about Mom he might realize I wanted the trumpet, too. He might abandon me and I’d never get my hands on the instrument. I needed to use Math to find the trumpet. The sooner the better.
I took the photo I’d taken from the museum security room out of my pocket.
The grainy photo was taken outside of a large house with a gated driveway. A man stood beside a car and held the trumpet case as if it was a precious object. The distinctive black case with worn leather and gold buckles was the case taken from Uncle Louie’s shop.
“This is definitely the trumpet case.” I pointed, thumping on the photo. “The question is whether the trumpet is inside.”
“And your Mom’s jewel.”
The lie, my lie, stabbed in the gut. How would he react when he discovered my deceit? I needed a graph to remember what I’d told Math, what Aaron had told me, and what I now believed. “Right.”
Math took the photo from me. “This is the Society of Aten’s house. They must’ve stolen the trumpet. Searching the Order’s museum was a total waste of time.”
Which was what Aaron wanted.
Squeezing my eyelids closed for a second, I let shame wash through me. I’d done what Aaron wanted because I needed to prove my loyalty. I’d led Math around so Aaron would get a head start on finding the trumpet, and he had, by the evidence of this photo. The trumpet might not even be at this Society’s mansion anymore. Math and I might be too late.
My insides flip-flopped, flip-flopped, flip-flopped. I was playing two sides of the game. Aaron thought I was leading Math in the wrong direction. Math thought I wanted a family jewel, not the trumpet.
What I wanted was the truth.
I wanted to know if the trumpet could save my mother. I refused to let Mom become the vessel and die. Even if I had to steal the trumpet from Math and bargain with Aaron to save Mom’s life and buy our freedom.
Chapter Ten
Math
Math couldn’t believe Piper had stolen a car.
They’d decided they had to get to the Society of Aten’s mansion quickly. He suggested the train and then a bus. She’d stepped over to a car parked on the street, fiddled with the handle, and opened the door.
“What’re you doing?” His muscles tensed, waiting for an alarm to sound.
Only silence timed with the fast beating of his heart.
“Getting us to the mansion as fast as possible.” She’d climbed into the driver’s seat and bent down under the steering wheel.
The engine roared to life.
He jerked back at the revving sound and the smell of gasoline. He’d never been in a car before. Chariots, sure. Living in the city, public transportation or his special skills got him around fine. “How do you know how to do that? Why do you know how to do that?”
Combustion engines weren’t something he’d studied yet. He understood the basic mechanisms and could picture the turbines and pistons in his head. He wished he had more time to look under the hood.
“I’ve got a thing with engines.” She’d patted the passenger seat with a mischievous smile. “Get in.”
He slid into the car, she revved the engine, and they were off.
Now, he was sitting by a girl whose beauty outshone Nefertiti, whose intelligence compared to his own, and whose kisses stirred passion. And she stole cars, too. That didn’t make the ride special.
Couldn’t make the ride special.
Math was on a mission. He had things to prove to his warrior brothers. He didn’t need distractions. Piper was an unwanted companion.
His heart protested the word unwanted. He wanted her.
Wanted her attention and her dazzling smile. Wanted her companionship and her kisses. But most of all, he wanted her safety.
Her kisses had been a powerful aphrodisiac. When her lips had touched his, he’d felt happy and high and willing to do whatever she asked.
Not the attitude of a thinking man.
Besides their leader Olivia, he hadn’t had much interaction with girls in this modern world. He’d been too busy learning volumes of history that had taken place between his time and now. Too busy understanding new technologies. Too busy training to prove his worth.
Taking Piper with him to the Society’s mansion wasn’t his best idea. He was putting her at risk, not keeping her safe. But he also needed to watch her, because even after their kiss, he didn’t trust her. Her uncle was in cahoots with the Order. Was she?
“Tell me about your mother.” Math needed to figure out if she was closer to her mother or her uncle. None of their research on her uncle had turned up information about Piper’s mom. “How did she get ownership of an Egyptian artifact?”
Piper’s face screwed in confusion. “You mean the jewel?”
“What did you think I meant?” If the jewel was her sole reason for coming with him on this quest, how could she forget?
“The jewel. I mean, it took me a second to realize what you were talking about.” Her confused rattling was adorable.
Also a little suspicious.
Laying his arm across her headrest, his fingers grazed the tendrils clinging to her neck, taking in the softness and her lotus scent. Was she rattled because his fingers played with the edge of her short hair? Or maybe she was afraid of him? Like a scientific analysis, he decided to test his theory.
“How did your mom inherit the lapis lazuli jewel?” He trailed a finger down the back of her exposed neck.
She shivered under his touch, never taking her gaze off the road.
Good shiver or bad shiver? Doubts danced in his midsection.
“I…I told you. My dad.” Her neck muscles tightened.
He ran a shaky finger to the edge of her hairline. “Your dad lives in Egypt?”
She shivered again. “I don’t know. I’ve never met my dad. Don’t even know his name.”
Math’s fingers stilled. “You never asked?”
His curious mind would’ve demanded answers or researched the man’s background himself. The marvels of the modern computer, with their vast storage of knowledge, were amazing.
“Mom didn’t talk about him.” Piper’s tone chilled.
“Is something wrong?” Math hoped it wasn’t his touch. The dancing morphed into a quickstep.
“I don’t enjoy talking about my unknown father.” She took one hand off the wheel and placed it on his thigh. “Can you tell me more about the Magical Convergence Ceremony?”
He sucked in a sharp breath. Did she like him, or was she using her feminine wiles to make him talk? It was working. Sweat formed on his palms and he wiped them on his black pants. “What do you want to know?”
>
He wanted to believe in Piper, believe she’d do the right thing. Believe she was interested in him.
Falcon or Antony or Xander always got the female attention when the Soul Warriors were about town. The girls looked right past Math. They saw his thinner build and his glasses and pegged him a nerd. Because he was.
“How does the vessel thing work?” Piper’s voice filled with tension, as if she had a personal connection. “You said they’d die.”
He’d die if he was wrong about Piper.
Small cracks fissured through his heart, making it ache. His mind told him it was impossible for a beautiful girl to fall for someone like him. His reasoning told him he didn’t have time for a girl anyway. He had a quest. But he wanted to believe. Believe in her and believe in these strange and wonderful feelings.
He swallowed his doubt. “The vessel is prepared in advance, either through drinking strychnine or a hereditary trait.” He really didn’t want to talk about the ceremony. He wanted to talk about her, but for now he’d tell her a few more details. “On Pi day, Tut’s Trumpet of Peace is played by the vessel and she inherits the powers of the trumpet. If an Akh has been procured then the vessel unites her powers with the Akh.”
She angled her head and sent him a curious glance. “What’s an Akh?”
If Piper didn’t know what an Akh was, she couldn’t be familiar with the Order’s secret ceremonies. Maybe she wasn’t involved with them. Maybe her only connection was through her uncle. His confidence in her built.
“An Akh is an effective being, or soul, with powers of a god. The vessel will have powers from the trumpet and the Akh.” And gods help us if the vessel or the vessel’s sacred leader is sinister.
“So the vessel controls the Akh’s powers and can use them in our world?” Her eyebrows scrunched, as if trying to figure out a scientific theory.
The ceremony, the connections, and the links were complicated physics. “And the vessel achieves immortality.”
He had immortality and hadn’t decided whether it was good or bad. He should prepare a spreadsheet with the pros and cons.
“Immortality would be cool.” The muscles on Piper’s face relaxed and an excited gleam appeared in her eyes.
Suspicion threaded through him, widening the cracks. He didn’t like the change in her demeanor. Did she crave immortality? Maybe power, too? But for what use?
“Only if the vessel controls their own destiny.” The information was meant to warn her.
“What do you mean?”
“Just as people can take precautions before hearing the trumpet so they are not affected, a person can control the vessel and their powers if they know the correct ceremony and incantations.” He continued studying her face trying to figure out her true thoughts. “The Akh lives a miserable half existence. Not alive, but not dead, either.”
Her cheeks paled and the light in her eyes dimmed. She shivered, appearing upset.
Was her uncle the person lined up to become the Akh? Who was the vessel? He studied Piper, trying to read her expression. She’d lied to him about falling asleep during the theft of the trumpet. At the time he didn’t consider it a big deal. People in modern times lied and he’d barely known her. Except now, now, they were getting closer. She’d kissed him. He wanted to believe in her. Maybe it was time she answered a few questions.
“Piper, are you meant to be the vessel?”
She stared straight ahead at the road. Her cheeks paled and her mouth pursed. “What? No.”
“Nothing good comes from being a vessel.” He watched for a reaction. “The Order and the Society plan to use whatever power they can converge for immoral actions.”
She repositioned her hands on the steering wheel. “What do the Order and Society say about your kind?”
His kind?
Ignoring her catty question, he scooted closer. He wanted to feel if her body stiffened, or if she leaned away. “What really happened at the pawn shop the day the Trumpet of Peace was stolen?”
“I showed you the recording.” Defensive.
Annoyance frizzled his skin. An achiness slid inside his chest, radiating from his center. He thought they were being honest with each other and she’d tell him the truth. He thought they’d connected. He thought she cared about him.
“Analyzing the angle from your phone, you didn’t fall down and go to sleep.” His hard voice accused. And he was okay with that. He wanted her to know he didn’t believe her. That he wasn’t easy prey for her charm. That he wasn’t affected by her kisses, or the heat of her hand on his thigh. “Once the angle changed from the ground, the camera followed the thieves down the short hallway. It moved.” He punctuated his words with anger.
Anger that she kept up the pretense.
Pulling her hand from his leg, she squeezed the steering wheel so tight her knuckles whitened. Her expression showed a battle on her insides. Her mouth dropped open and then closed. She smushed her lips back and forth, one against the other.
Math braced himself for a lying explanation. How could lips he’d kissed lie to him?
“I didn’t fall asleep.”
Her words entered his ears and he took a moment to process and calculate the meaning. He jolted because she spoke the truth, rejoicing in her honesty, but not understanding how her not falling asleep was possible. “The man was playing the trumpet. I heard it on the video.”
“Yes.” She squirmed uncomfortable with her admission.
His confused thoughts ran rampant in his mind, making him lightheaded. He wasn’t used to being confused. He was used to organizing the facts and understanding. Piper messed with his mind and his emotions. The dawning understanding scared and exhilarated.
“The Trumpet of Peace makes everyone who hears its music fall asleep unless they’ve taken precautions.” His thoughts marched into columns in his brain, trying to add up the truths and the deceptions. Nothing calculated. “Why didn’t you?”
Her eyes widened. Fear reflected on her face. “I. Don’t. Know.”
His heart tugged him toward believing. His mind resisted. What she said didn’t add up. Logically, it couldn’t be the truth. “Were you prepared against the trumpet’s effects by your uncle?”
“Prepared?” She didn’t seem to know what he was talking about.
“There’s a special antidote you can take.” Not many laymen knew about the precautions. The ancient recipe was difficult to prepare, with elements hard to find in this time and place.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Unless you’ve blown the trumpet.” Horror streaked through his body. He’d seen the effect of blowing the war trumpet on Falcon and wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy. Grabbing her hand, Math squeezed tight. “Have you blown the trumpet?”
“No!”
He relaxed, letting the horror seep from his skin. “I asked because people who have blown the trumpet are immune to its sleeping powers.”
“That second thief. He was talking with Uncle Louie. He didn’t fall asleep.” Her hopeful voice reached out and he wanted to give her an answer that made her feel better.
He couldn’t. “Since we know the thieves were from the Society of Aten, they’d know to take precautions and prepare themselves.”
“That doesn’t explain me.” She clung to his hand like he were her lifeline.
He kept a tight hold, wanting to be a lifeline for her. “No, it doesn’t.”
Math ran various scenarios and possibilities in his head as they parked the car several blocks away, stole a couple of blue work shirts from the backseat, and plodded down the street toward the Society’s mansion. The fog rolled in off the coast, creating a ghostly environment.
The only way to combat the effects of the trumpet were if you had blown the trumpet, carried the DNA of someone who had blown it, or took special preparations. Which one was Piper?
“How much farther to the Society’s mansion?” Piper’s worried tone interrupted his thoughts.
Unsolvable thoughts. “A
couple of blocks.”
She fiddled with the collar of the stiff work shirt, then ran trembling fingers through her hair. “Tell me about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
They had so many more important things to discuss.
“Since we can’t solve the question about why the trumpet didn’t affect me,” her babbling proved her nervousness, “and we’re about to break into a house together, I thought I should know more about you, Matthew.”
The name was another lie between them. One that could easily be cleared up. “My full name isn’t Matthew. It’s just Math.”
“Why…would your parents name you Math?”
“My parents didn’t.” He huffed. “My brothers did.”
“Your parents let your brothers name you? You’re lucky you didn’t get named fart or poop.” Her teasing smile healed some of his internal wounds.
“They named me Math because I’m a natural at math and science.” The unfairness grumbled in his gut. The other brothers had cool names: Xander, Falcon, Antony and Ash. Math had suggested other names, but the descriptor had stuck.
“How did they know you’d be good at math when you were born?” The angle of Piper’s head showed befuddlement, except the angle was over-pronounced and the confusion wasn’t quite sincere.
Was she not interested, or was there something else? He swung his tongue back and forth, touching the inside of both of his cheeks, trying to decide what to say, how much to say, which truths to share.
“They’re not my biological brothers. They’re brothers of the soul.” He kept his pace steady, trying not to show his misgivings.
“And they changed your name?” The angle of her head became less steep. True confusion, not the fake confusion he’d seen earlier.
His tongue continued to wiggle back and forth, a pendulum ticking out his indecision. Telling Piper this truth was a big step. He was trusting her with his history. He sucked in a large breath. “I’m from the twenty-seventh century B.C. I belonged to the Society of Aten during that time and was picked to be the Chosen One and to inherit the soul of King Tut.”
