“What it means is that I’m now questioning whether I can actually consider myself a scholar when everything I thought I’d accomplished as a historian and academic might just be some mad parlor trick,” Neil confessed miserably.
He had been tormented by that doubt ever since Sayyid had mercilessly forced the epiphany about his power onto him back in Egypt.What did it mean that Neil could magically see the past?Was everything he’d accomplished during his career now a lie?And what about the future?Using a supernatural power in one’s scholarly endeavors without actually realizing it was one thing, but what were the ethics of going forward with his studies now that he knew what he was doing?
Neil loved his work.He wanted to do more of it—to painstakingly unearth the relics of history and puzzle through their subtle details, teasing out the secrets of lives hundreds or thousands of years in the past.But how could he keep at it now that he knew the real source of his ‘leaps of intuition?’
“Don’t be silly,” Constance retorted.
Her blunt answer threw him.“Silly?”
“You are one of the cleverest people I’ve ever met!”Constance hooked a hand through his arm and dragged him back onto the path.“You read journals in German and letters in Ancient Egyptian…”
“It’s not ‘Ancient Egyptian,’” Neil grumped.“There’s Classical Egyptian and Late Egyptian, and they each have distinct and important variants—“
“My point exactly,” Constance cut in.“There is simply no way you would be able to rattle on about the Roman invasion of Britain, Norse trade routes, and the historicity of Troy the way you do if it were all just magical powers.”
She was right.NoteverythingNeil had ever learned was in doubt.There were piles of knowledge in his brain that had come from books—because he remembered reading them, spending late nights at Cambridge poring over excavation reports.
They continued to climb the steep, thickly wooded slope.The trees thinned out further up the rise, where more of the gold-gray light of afternoon filtered through the rich green leaves.
“It’s very kind of you to say that, but it’s hard to imagine how I can possibly be both of these things,” Neil replied.“A scholar and…”
“Magical?”Constance looked thoughtful.“I suppose I’m having trouble figuring out how to be British and Indian, but Iamboth of those things—more so now than I was even a week ago.And I wouldn’t wish myself to be anything other than what I am—if wishing could make any sort of difference.So I suppose I’ll have to figure it out.”
Neil stopped.“You’re right.”
Constance was clearly pleased.“Am I?”
“I am… both,” he admitted, even as part of him twisted queasily at the words.“There’s no point in wishing it were any different.But I haven’t the foggiest idea how to go about it!”
Constance studied him as Neil ducked under a branch heavily laden with flowers.“But you’ve already been going about it, haven’t you?I mean—I’ve always been myself, and I’ve gotten along well enough at that, I think.I’m just seeing it all differently now than I did before.Encountering circumstances that make being both Indian and British more… complicated.”
Neil’s heart tightened at her words.He glanced back at her as he held up the branch.
“There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that you are going to do it splendidly,” he burst out feelingly.“Britain and India are both lucky to have you.”
Constance’s grin was like a beam of sunshine breaking through the monsoon.“Do you really think so?I mean—I agree with you, but it’s still nice to hear someone else say it.”
An answering smile tugged irresistibly at Neil’s lips.“I’ll say it as often and as loudly as you like,” he vowed—and found to his surprise that he meant it.
Her eyes narrowed playfully.“Do you need me to tell you that you can be both a scholar and a little magical?”
Neil grimaced as a wave of familiar discomfort washed over him.“I’m not sure I’m ready to hear that yet.I still wish the whole thing had never come up back in the village.It’s only going to make everyone think I can do something that I can’t.I don’t reallydoit at all.It just… happens.”
“Well, if it’s happening at all, it sounds to me like you’re halfway there,” Constance concluded authoritatively.
A low rumble of thunder echoed through the trees.Jignesh leaned over the path above them, his amber eyes bright in his weathered face.“Up!Quick!”
Neil offered Constance a hand and helped her scramble up the last of the climb.
They emerged at the top of the ridge, where the forest gave way to a flat, rocky plateau accented by tufts of grass and scrubby bushes.At the end of it, a natural arrow of land jutted from the peak, pointing slightly northeast.
The point was topped by a stubby column of stone roughly Neil’s height.The surface of the monument was round at the top and smoothly polished.
Subhas stood beside it.The law student had pulled off his shirt, tucking it into the back of his trousers.The strap for his Enfield crossed over the objectively well-defined musculature of his torso.
“Hmm,” Constance mused.
“What’s that?”Neil asked.
