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Alexis closed his eyes. "Does the entire household know?"

"We've known since the nervous monk was at the door." Zo divided the dough in half with a single quick pass of the heel of his hand. "I was going to come and yell at you tomorrow if you hadn't come down from the tower on your own. Phaidros beat me to it."

"Phaidros is going with me."

"That doesn't surprise me." Zo wiped his hands on the apron, came around the counter, and took Alexis by the shoulders. "You are going to bring Constantine home, Alexis."

"I'm going to try?"

"No. You will." Zo gave him one small, firm shake. "Whatever it costs."

"Zo, you know what he can be like…"

"I know, but as much as it might hurt your friendship, he will live. You two will fix it in time. You always do."

Alexis nodded, and Zo let go of his shoulders and turned back to the dough.

"You're not going to tell Aelia, are you?" he asked.

"No."

"Good. Neither am I. I will tell her long after you have gone, and not a day before. I will handle her. You handle Con." Zo didn’t look up again from the dough. "Phaidros will be your shield. You will be his. Who knows, maybe he can enrage Con enough that he will be more interested in fighting him than Mehmed."

"Well, if anyone can do it, Phaidros can."

Alexis put his hand on the back of Zo's neck for a moment and squeezed. "I'll make sure he doesn't kill himself." Some of the tension left Zo, and when he nodded, Alexis let him go.

Zo turned to the basket beside the oven and took out a still-warm loaf, wrapped it in a cloth, and handed it to him with a full sack of supplies.

"Take these. Eat. Don't throw Phaidros into the sea. Don't die."

"Grazie, fratello mio."

"You had better go, or you'll miss the tide." Zo turned back to the dough, and he didn't look up when Alexis left the kitchen.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The crossing took six days instead of four because this time, they had to be careful of every ship on the sea. The Hésperos was a fast boat in a fair wind, and Alexis kept the sails full enough without putting too much pressure on the mast.

By the first evening, they were past Corfu. By the fourth morning, they were threading the Cyclades under a clear sky, and Phaidros had stopped looking green every time the deck pitched.

"I'd forgotten how much I hated sailing with you," he complained. He was sitting on the deck with his back against the mast, his coat folded as a cushion under him, eating an apple Zo had packed for them. "Remind me, when we get home, never to leave Venice again."

"You leave Venice constantly," Alexis pointed out.

"But not with you behind the tiller. There is such a thing as sailing at a normal pace."

"We don't have time for a pleasure cruise."

Phaidros finished the apple and threw the core over the rail. "Do you have a plan yet?"

"I have most of a plan," Alexis said, keeping his eyes on the horizon.

Phaidros spread his hands. "By all means, enlighten me."

"We slip into the Galata side. A small boat under glamour won't be noticed in the traffic going in and out, and from Galata, we can meet up with Arslan to get a lay of the land. Once we know more, we can cross to the city when we choose. He knows we are coming. I sent word," Alexis replied.

"And he has answered?"