Map of Fates (The Conspiracy of Us 2)

They, like many other families, adhered to certain local customs. There were candles, songs, blessings I didn’t understand. A sweet, soft bread shared between us, wine, more food than I could have eaten in a month. And then another hard sell. The Melechs could offer a population base the Saxons couldn’t reach from London. Historical significance. Military might unrivaled in any other small territory. They even outlined exactly what the ceremony would entail if we got married. It was so businesslike, they may as well have used a PowerPoint presentation.

We hadn’t had time to make it to any cultural sites during the day, so Jack and I snuck out that night, hopeful. Alexander the Great had visited Jerusalem. The two of us met Stellan and searched a few museums, but came up empty. Stellan was probably right when he said the area’s centuries of political unrest may have scattered any pieces Napoleon left here.

10 days, the Order texted that night. The optimism I’d been feeling before Germany was fading fast.

Next the Emir family, Saudi Arabia. I’d been sleeping worse and worse as the days wore on, and was so tired by that time that the whole visit felt like a series of hallucinations. Standing in the scorching heat, staring up at their Riyadh skyrise, a gleaming glass building in the desert sun. The terrible look on Samarah Emir’s face when they talked about their oldest son Malik, killed by the Order just before I found out the Circle existed. A Saudi prince killed by a car bomb, the news had said, back when I thought the news told the truth.

They had a full-grown Bengal tiger in a penthouse petting zoo. Cole pushed its fur the wrong way, earning a snap of teeth that were as long as my little finger. That meant one of Jack’s hands on his gun and the other on me—the only time he’d so much as acknowledged my presence in front of the Saxons during the visits. The tiger got a squirt with a spray bottle like it was a house cat scratching the sofa. The animals had been Malik’s, Lydia said. Maybe they’d turn them out on the street to entertain themselves now that he was dead, Cole whispered when no one was listening.

Earlier, we’d seen the Emirs’ oldest daughter, who was around my age, with big, sad eyes. I remembered Jack telling me she’d been caught having a relationship with a Keeper, and been forced to terminate him herself. I decided Cole might not be kidding about the animals.

At dinner, a parading of their younger son, the one who was supposed to marry me, even though he was twelve years old. The look in his eyes was too grown-up when he took my hand and pledged his eternal love and protection for me if we chose him.

I could never live here. Or with the Melechs. Or the Hersch family. I’d rather marry Stellan. During dessert, as I picked at sweet tea and sticky dates and thought about how days ten and nine had just been wasted and we weren’t even certain our next clue was right, I felt the door of this pretty cage closing faster and faster.

• • •

In the middle of the night, I woke up gasping for breath.

I’d been dreaming about falling from a high-rise building, my mom holding me by the hand. It took me a second to remember where I was, and when I did, I sank back against the pillow and stared up at the tapestry hanging over my head. The air-conditioning stirred the mustard-yellow tassels surrounding it, and I clutched a pillow to my chest. During the day, I was holding it together, but nighttime conspires against a person’s brain.

Eight days, a voice echoed in my head.

I switched on the lamp beside the bed. At least my insomnia gave me plenty of time for research, because over the past couple days, I’d been clinging to Venice like a life preserver. We had to be right about that clue. Right before I’d fallen asleep, I’d found a site that mentioned a conspiracy theory about San Marco Basilica in Venice and the bones of Alexander the Great. It was farfetched, but it at least gave us somewhere to start. Suddenly, I remembered when we’d been searching for Napoleon’s diaries in the library at the Dauphins.

Stellan would be leaving to meet us in Venice later today. I texted him, I think there’s a book in the Dauphins’ library about the secrets of San Marco or something like that. Bring it?

I was surprised when my phone buzzed a second later. Am I your errand boy now?

Don’t you sleep? I texted back.

Says the girl who just texted me at 4 a.m. her time. Dinner with the Emirs not go so well?

I made a face at the phone. Just bring the book.

After a couple minutes, the phone buzzed again. Admit it. The more potential husbands you meet, the more appealing I look.

You are even more obnoxious at 4 a.m., I responded, trying to forget that I’d already had that exact thought. Not that it mattered. It wouldn’t come to that. It wouldn’t.

I settled back against the pillows and waited for the sun to peek through the curtains before I texted Jack.

Want to train when you wake up?

Jack had been teaching me self-defense and a few fighting techniques while we were in Paris. We hadn’t had any lessons since we’d been on the road, but we’d mentioned it to the Saxons, and the tour of the Emirs’ home yesterday included a huge gym facility they’d encouraged me to use while I was here.

Jack texted back a few minutes later. Pick you up in ten.

• • •

The Emirs’ gym took up an entire floor, with a sparkling pool and steam room on one end and a set of mats on the other. All four walls were floor-to-ceiling windows, and I watched the sunrise glint off the city skyline while I tied my sneakers and took off my necklace and Napoleon’s bracelet and piled them on top of my sweatshirt in a corner.

“Ready?” Jack said.

“Whenever you are.” I pulled my hair into a ponytail, knowing what was coming, but not when. A few seconds later, Jack grabbed me hard around the waist.

I hooked a foot around his ankle and tried to knock him over, but he stepped away easily. It made him loosen his grip, though, and I snagged his arm and bent his wrist backward. Just as quickly, he wrenched my other arm behind me hard enough that I cried out and let go.