Jean remembered nothing of the journey back. Only fragments. The green wall of jungle. Sophie's face in the dusk. Kali's warm presence hovering at the edge of his mind. Three days passed in a fog.
They did not speak. Sometimes Sophie touched his hand, and their thoughts bled into one another like water through cracks in stone. He had not yet learned to tell them apart. At the base of his skull, without asking leave, Kali had settled in. A warm, pulsing thing that occupied a corner of his mind the way a cat occupies a favourite chair. A bond that had not existed before. A bond that should not exist.
The goddess glided beside them, a soundless shadow. When a snake slithered onto the trail it backed away. When a jaguar watched them from the undergrowth it turned and left. Rain bypassed them entirely, as though an invisible dome shielded those who belonged to her from the jungle and everything in it.
By the time they reached the camp the sun was going down. The empty tents stood untouched. Jones's warding spell still shimmered along the perimeter, a faint silver light holding beasts and the curious at bay. The groom and the two porters the professor had left to guard the equipment were gone.
“Where is everyone?” three days of silence scraping Sophie’s throat with sand.
The answer waited for them at the main fire pit, dead centre of the camp. A man of middle years rose to meet them. The suit sat on him without a crease; his face had the fine bone-work of an old line. He held himself as if the surrounding jungle were a minor inconvenience someone had forgotten to tidy up. Beside him stood his familiar, a silver-skinned woman, mercury-eyed, poured into a pencil dress.
"Monsieur Dantes." The stranger bowed. "Viscount Lucien de Clermont, representing the House of Silver Secrets. Allow me to offer my condolences on the unfortunate events."
Jean went rigid. How did this man know what had happened in the temple?
"How did you..."
"Oh, we monitored the expedition from a distance," the viscount cut in, his voice soft as kid leather. "The House takes a standing interest in Doctor Jones's archaeological ventures." The viscount swept his eyes across Jean and Sophie and lingered on Kali. "Though I must confess, the results exceeded our expectations."
The viscount's familiar, whom he introduced as Argentina, studied Kali with open attention. Without warning she took a step back and froze. Reverent terror, plain on her silver face, slammed into her master.
Through the bond, Jean felt a cold thrill wake in Kali.
“What a curious toy,” her voice echoed in his head, and for a split second, he became her, sharing her interest in an unfamiliar chessboard and the defenceless pieces upon it.
She watched Argentina the way a child studies a bug, having just realised it can be taken apart. Jean wanted to shield the silver familiar from her.
Save for a brief tightening at the corners of his eyes, Lucien kept his composure.
"Congratulations, Monsieur Dantes. After so many years working without a pact, you have finally found a worthy companion." Professional courtesy coloured his voice, though the situation clearly amused him. "An exquisite choice."
Having seen the world through her eyes, Jean marvelled at Kali's restraint. She stood slightly apart, quiet and detached, indistinguishable from any common, obedient familiar.
"What do you want, Viscount?" Jean cut to the chase.
"Originally we had a business proposition. The House was prepared to pay handsomely for your services in a delicate matter. A matter which now, it seems, has resolved itself." Lucien surveyed the abandoned camp. "Given recent events and your new circumstances, I imagine you will need time to adjust."
"Was it you who sent my people away?" Sophie stepped forward.
"When I sensed that something... significant had occurred in the jungle, I thought it wiser to speak privately. I arranged for your people to be transported home."
"Minor inconveniences, Viscount. Archaeology is a dangerous profession." Sophie's voice came out edged with steel.
De Clermont's attention sharpened on her, the way a hunter's does when he spots claws on what he had taken for plumage. His eyes narrowed. A court fox with decades of practice could smell the moment a person changed.
"Lady Sophie, is it not?" He bowed. "I must say, the expedition has quite transformed you. You have grown up so much."
Jean shot her a quick look. The viscount was right. Something was different.
"The point, Viscount," Sophie cut him off.
"Of course." Lucien took a beat too long to answer, and the new estimate of Sophie settled behind his eyes. "The House is prepared to handle all formalities surrounding the loss of the expedition. Notifying the university of Doctor Jones's death, explanations to the authorities, compensation for the porters' families. We can also secure the remaining equipment and artifacts."
Jean set his jaw. The slippery phrasing slid past the heart of it like an eel through muddy water.
"Don't insult my intelligence, Viscount." Jean met his eyes. "What's the price?"
"None at all. Surely the House cannot ignore those in need?"
Too generous by half. Jean knew what free favours from the House of Silver Secrets cost. The fortunate ones only paid with their freedom.
"But the House can hardly forbid those in need from expressing their gratitude, can it?" Sophie brushed jungle dust from her sleeve.
"You learn capital manners remarkably fast, Lady Sophie." Lucien looked pleased. "But let us not rush the formalities. First the camp must be secured. The House is prepared to take responsibility for that. Places of ancient power demand special care."
Sophie straightened. Shoulders back, chin up, three deep breaths from the belly — the drills her mother had drummed into her before every ball.
"No."
The silence stretched for several seconds. Jean went still. Even Kali turned her head.
"The camp stays under my control."
"Lady Sophie..."
"I will allow you to handle the formalities with the university." Sophie stepped toward Lucien. "But the camp remains under my authority. I will send my steward in three days. All finds and discoveries belong to Sergio Lofi and no one else."
Sophie made fists at her sides.
"We are on the verge of a breakthrough, and I will let no one steal it."
Jean looked at her and recognised the features that only he had seen before. Where had the petulant child, known to all the capital’s high society, gone? Vanished without a trace. Before him stood the woman who for years had been fighting her way to him through the masks and the ballroom posturing, the one he had always respected. So, the pact had not changed her. It had simply burned away the silk chains, finally releasing what had been straining to break free from the very beginning.
The viscount held her gaze a beat longer, then conceded the point with a single nod.
"I understand that youth inclines toward bold declarations." He held Sophie's stare, clearly not ready to concede so easily. "But the House is patient. We will wait until you better understand your new situation."
Throughout the conversation, Kali had been strolling through the camp with the air of a woman browsing a market stall, inspecting the leftover equipment like curiosities. Her path took her directly behind Argentina.
The silver familiar flinched and froze. As if feeling a predator's breath on the back of her neck, she forced herself to look back.
Kali, rummaging through archaeological tools two paces away, looked up and smiled.
Argentina stepped back.
And then again.
"Argentina?" Viscount de Clermont turned to find what had spooked his familiar.
His familiar had gone small, unable to break Kali's gaze. Her panic lashed across their bond. Lucien winced and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.
Kali plucked a fine archaeological brush from the dirt and twirled it between her fingers, holding it up to the light.
"What curious little instruments," she said, eyes on the brush. "Archaeology must be a very dangerous profession."
Argentina backed further, pressing her shoulders flat against a tent.
Keeping her in focus, Kali slowly tilted her head to one side and smiled even wider.
The viscount swallowed. Jean caught the small flicker of doubt before he could smooth it away.
"I... suppose we can discuss the details later," he said, glancing toward his carriage at the edge of the camp. "The House respects your decision, Lady Sophie." De Clermont shelved his useless smile. He produced a card and held it out to Jean. Subtle off-white colouring. Tasteful thickness. It even had a watermark. "Although experience suggests that inexperience tends to correct itself. When you are ready to discuss our proposal, Monsieur Dantes, do let me know."
"How did you know about the temple?" Jean asked, point-blank.
"Did we?" Lucien shrugged. "We merely keep an eye on interesting archaeological sites. Sometimes ancient places announce their own awakening."
Without giving Jean the chance to reply, the viscount bowed and made for his waiting carriage.
"Farewell. And good luck taming what you've awakened."
"What could the House of Silver Secrets possibly want with the archaeological amusements of a young aristocrat?" Jean asked, once the carriage had disappeared behind the trees.
Sophie blinked, and her shoulders dropped like she had finally exhaled.
"Following Jones's expeditions, my eye. I loved the professor, but his star peaked twenty years ago at best."
"We barely wriggled off their hook. He just dodged the question. They knew about the temple in advance. They were hunting for her." Jean tilted his chin toward Kali, who was pretending to be fascinated by the camp and the surrounding trees.
Sophie stared in silence at the spot where the carriage had vanished, and her shoulders gave.
"Take me home, Uncle."
Jean put an arm around her.
"Of course, kitten. Let's go home."