“We will find each other,” she cried out, and he turned her so that she was sheltered in his warm embrace. Beatrice felt him press a kiss to her hair.

“We will find each other.”

Chapter Seventeen

Lake Maggiore, Switzerland

June 2012

Giovanni spread his arms across the back of the couch in the lake house study. Beatrice sat next to him, nestled into his side, still reluctant to stray too far from the comfort of his presence. They had spent two days wrapped in each other, both avoiding what he was now beginning to suspect was their inevitable separation. The ancient wind immortal, Ziri, took a chair opposite him and his wife, and Carwyn sat near the fire, looking grim.

“Ziri, thank you for coming. Please, explain. Particularly about my grand-sire.”

Ziri folded his hands in his lap. “Your grand-sire, Kato, is alive, as far as I know. My friends and I deliberately misled the immortal community regarding his death. I don’t know his condition, and we don’t know how the book came into your sire’s possession, but that is why you must find Arosh. Only someone who rivals him in power will stand a chance of getting close enough. And Arosh will have Kato with him.”

“I understood that Arosh is the one who killed my father’s sire. He and Kato were legendary enemies.”

“Yes, of course they were. For many years they battled each other for land, resources, power… that is why they became such close friends.”

Beatrice leaned forward. “You’re going to have to explain this part a little more clearly to me, Ziri.”

The old vampire smiled. “You must understand that this was the age of empires. The pale shadows of empires that came later, the Greeks, the Romans, the Roman church, none of them truly understood empire as we did. Zhang, before he changed his name to be civilized, ruled the East with his Golden Horde of vicious immortals and their people. Arosh held Zhang back at the gates of the Western world. Saba, the most ancient of us, kept her peace in the flourishing African highlands. I ruled the deserts, and Kato… Kato ruled the waters. We were rivals. Enemies. Our power kept each other in check. There was death and conquest, but there was balance, as well.”

Beatrice asked, “What changed?”

“We grew tired of empire. All of us had ruled for thousands of years, sometimes as gods, but humanity was growing stronger, more sophisticated. They were becoming more interesting to us, and the age of the immortal empire began to wane. Zhang was first. His hoard dispersed and he parted company with his child—your friend, Tenzin—and retreated to form the council of the Eight Immortals in Penglai Island. Saba… well, Saba hadn’t ruled in any real sense for ages. She just retreated farther into the mountains. I gladly let my people fracture as they had wanted for years. Wind immortals never really take to any kind of central government.”

“And what of Kato and Arosh?” Giovanni asked.

“They held out the longest, but finally, your grand-sire traveled to his great rival and they met. I don’t know what they spoke of, but I think they both must have realized what we had was passing. Human thought and development had reached the point where they had become more than ragged bands of hunters and gatherers. Civilizations were beginning to flourish. Observing them had become more interesting than ruling them.”

Giovanni cocked his head. “And you expect me to believe they just gave up this great power you speak of?”

“In a way, it was a relief. To give up the burden of rule and to sink into a more leisurely life. We all had our pursuits and, as centuries passed, the four of us came to a kind of understanding. A camaraderie of those who understood what it had once been to be a god.” Ziri’s black eyes twinkled. “Not many understand what that once meant. Arosh and Kato became very good friends, over the years. Their legends passed into our own peculiar history, but few remembered the particulars. None of us wanted to.”

“But they were supposed to be dead. My father said that Arosh was the one who had killed Kato, and in doing so, killed himself. So how is it that you say they are living?”

Carwyn broke in. “Start at the beginning of the tale, Ziri. You must go back to Kufa.”

Ziri nodded. “Of course. As I was saying, humanity had become interesting. There were periods of great enlightenment, often followed by periods of ignorance and destruction, but thoughts were changing. Kufa, in the eighth century, was in the heart of the Islamic Golden Age. There was a wonderful confluence of thought and technology. Theology and philosophy. Arosh had been living there for many years. He was Persian, but had been intrigued by the new ideas. Kato joined him. Eventually, we were all drawn there, and we spent a century watching the region flourish.”

“When did you meet Geber? Was Arosh the “dear friend” he wrote of in his journals?”

Ziri smiled. “We knew him as Jabir, but yes, Arosh and the alchemist had become very good friends. They enjoyed debating science and faith. And Jabir was so bright for a human, eventually Kato joined them in their discussions and the three of them became very close. The idea of the elixir was born from their friendship.”

“Who thought of it first?” Beatrice asked in a quiet voice.

“It was Jabir’s idea, though we all latched onto it very quickly. He was fascinated by how we could heal, particularly if we shared blood, which the four of us did freely.”

Carwyn smirked. “You must have been… very close.”

Ziri shrugged. “As I said, there are few who understand each other as we did. It was, and still is, a kind of intimacy that extends beyond the understanding of most humans or even younger immortals. We gave no thought to sharing blood in order to nurture that.”