“Let go of my arm, asshole.” I hoped silent words could feel cold in Oz’s head.

He dropped his hold, looking a little startled. I realized he and I had never communicated that way and how it always felt a little invasive the first time with someone new. I really didn’t care.

“Kaia, you don’t know what you’ve done.”

I gave Caesarion one last look, then stomped away down the beach. Oz followed me until we were out of sight, since we needed to travel and because he’d shown up here without the appropriate attire—he looked completely out of place in his tight black clothes and cape.

At least dealing with Oz held me together when all I wanted was to fall to pieces. To run back to Caesarion. To die with him.

But the Historians were my life, and the people of Genesis might be in danger. Turning my back on my life, on my world, would be to let down all Caesarion had given me.

My brain moved my numbed limbs forward, forced me to focus on the task of getting home, but everything seemed as though it happened to someone else, as though I watched my own body struggle through the sandy Egyptian coastline.

Now that we were alone, I switched to verbal communication, not wanting any more of an intimate connection with Oz than we’d already formed. “Let’s go.”

Without waiting for an answer, I started to set the dials on the cuff, but he reached out and stopped me. “Kaia.”

“Don’t. You’re not my father, you’re not an Elder. I don’t need a lecture from you about breaking the rules to spend time with Caesarion.”

“I wasn’t going to lecture you. I was going to ask if you’re okay.”

“My head is killing me.” Tears gathered in my eyes. It was more than the physical pain. Walking away from Caesarion tore at my insides, ripped like the loss was tangible, and the pain in my head paled in comparison.

Oz handed me a few painkillers, which I chewed. “Thanks.”

“I’m surprised you’re handling it so well, honestly. Denying the bio-tat impulses isn’t easy.”

“You would know,” I snapped, wishing he would shut up.

“I would.”

“I’m still waiting for the lecture.” I was actually buying time to steady myself before having to face my actual life three thousand years in the future.

“I assume you’ve taken precautions to ensure they will not know the extent of your infractions—the interaction, for instance—unless they follow you. There is nothing I can say that you haven’t thought of yourself, and still you came to this decision.” He paused, looking the direction we left Caesarion. “I can only guess you found the risks acceptable in light of the reward.”

The way he said reward bothered me, as though assuming Caesarion hadn’t been worth it. It wasn’t fair. He got to live this every day with Sarah.

I ignored the inclination to bring up his True. I didn’t want to talk about his eternal happiness. “Why did you say I don’t know what I’ve done?”

His eyes remained up the beach, the direction we came, and his body tensed. “This discussion will have to wait, I’m afraid. We’ve got company.”

I whirled to see Thoth, Ammon, and the third guard rushing our direction, weapons drawn. “Yeah, they don’t like me.”

Oz laughed, a startled sound. “I can’t imagine why not.”

“Let’s just go.”

I finished setting the cuff for the return trip, my anxiety growing as the lights turned to green and the blue field surrounded us. The guards were less than ten steps away when the ancient world dissolved, the future tech delivering us safely home.

*

Sanchi, Amalgam of Genesis–50 NE (New Era)

The air lock felt too sterile, too cold, after the warmth and beauty of the Red Sea sunrise. Oz’s presence grated on me, made me hyper aware of the hole in my heart. With each passing moment, I fought harder to hold it together. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my bed and cry.

My grandfather’s death, and then the loss of Jonah, taught me that grief could be delayed but not bypassed. Walking away from Caesarion hit me every bit as hard, even though I had known from the beginning that I couldn’t keep him.

I supposed we couldn’t keep anyone, even ourselves, in the end.

“I need to show you something,” Oz said.

“In the air lock?”

“No.” He studied my face for several moments. “I know you’re in shock, Kaia, but this can’t wait long. It’s why I came to get you.”

I was dressed in Historian garb, now, but Oz was naked except for a white towel since he’d gone to Egypt in the clothes on his back. The decontamination chamber wouldn’t let us out until all of the outerwear had been tested and analyzed.

His words barely registered. The longer I sat here the less I cared about anything. A buzzing took up residence in my head, separating me from the present. Oz said nothing more, just watched me carefully from across the room, then dressed when the drawer returned his clothes.

When the air lock clicked open he helped me to my feet. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know you are, but I’ll feel much better if you let me help.”

“It’s all about you, huh?” I tried a weak joke in an attempt to shake off my lethargy. This was silly. It had been inevitable.

“That’s me. Selfish as the day is long.”

He left me at the door to our room. “We’ll talk in the morning. Get some rest.”

“Wait, this was so important you traveled to get me but now I can rest?”

He glanced down the hall, as though expecting someone to catch us alone again, then turned back to me, impatience in his gaze. “I need you sharp, and you’re a mess. Get it together.”

He stalked off before my overly tired brain conjured a response, but it was just as well. I was exhausted and I did need to pull myself together.

I tiptoed into my room, trying hard not to make any noise, but my roommates weren’t there. My stomach unknotted a little. Analeigh and Sarah were my friends and I loved them, and maybe one day I would find the courage to tell them everything, to let them help me. But tonight my grief, my Caesarion, belonged only to me.

I changed quickly into my pajamas and climbed into bed without any other preparations, turning to face the wall. My body felt heavy—all of it. The outside, the inside, the blood in my veins. Sluggish, as though none of it could decide if it still wanted to work in a world without true love.

The moments I’d had with my True were so much more than most people even dreamed of, and I knew I should feel lucky. The word repeated over and over as I let loose the sobs that had been building inside me like a storm, soaking my pillow and shaking me apart.

*

Meeting Oz the next morning provided a distraction, if nothing else. I had gone through the night on autopilot, exhausted from the sleepless hours passed leaking tears and staring at the wall while scenes from the past couple of days played out in my mind.

Caesarion had to die. I knew it, and I’d accepted it. I had to move on.

Oz waited for me in the hallway, smelling fresh from a shower but wearing a less solicitous air than when he’d left me yesterday. He gave me a once-over and nodded, apparently convinced I had gotten my shit together, or at least feeling good about my not succumbing to some sort of girly meltdown.

“Time’s up,” was all he said.

Our footsteps echoed as I followed him down the hallway, back toward the restricted storage rooms where we’d gotten caught the other night. Quips and sarcastic remarks floated in my brain, comments about how I wasn’t making out with him again or hadn’t we broken enough rules for one week, but they all disappeared before they turned into words. Speaking required so much energy.

He stopped outside the door where the Elders had met the other night, then turned back to me. “I have to hold you against me.”

“What? Why?”

“I need you to see what’s inside this room, but it only admits one person per wrist swipe. My tat will work, but yours won’t. We have to walk in like one person.”