Next to the Lighthouse and the Serapeum, the tomb of Alexander was the single most recognizable structure in Alexandria . . . a memorial that had survived in all its original gaudy glory. It crouched in the center of the lush park square, looking exactly like what it was: an overdone tribute to an oversized legend. Marble clad, of course, with statues of gold at each corner on each of four levels. The other statues that lined each level were stone, or looked to be, at least—warriors, horses, gods. On top, Alexander’s chariot was drawn by mighty warhorses frozen in midcharge, and the boy king’s statue showed him as handsome and glorious as the gods themselves.

A pretty dark-eyed girl strolled past the two of them, and gave Dario a bright smile as she trailed a hand over the flowers planted on the path. The Spaniard smiled back and bowed to her, which elicited a giggle. Jess sighed. “Tell me we aren’t here just so you can peacock to the ladies.”

“It’s an added benefit,” Dario said. “I’m supposed to meet someone here who may have a book for us.”

“Meet who, exactly?”

“Am I supposed to ask for formal introductions when buying illegal things? I was under the impression it was more of a casual acquaintance.”

“Where did you meet this person?”

“I inquired,” Dario said. “I’m not without skills, you know. If you must know, he’s a sailor out of Rome. He said he has a stolen logbook from a prison there.”

“Every city has a prison!”

“This one is run by the High Garda. Not local police.”

Jess didn’t like it. “Do you know him at all?”

“No. Which is why I want you here, with your long history of . . . questionable things. I’ll pay for the book, you take it away from here, and we will all live to read whatever it is I’m spending a ruinous amount of my savings to get.”

“Dario, buying black market is not your strength. You should have told me. I could have—”

“There wasn’t time,” Dario cut in. “Are you going to help or not?”

This wasn’t the spot Jess would have chosen for such an exchange, either: too many casual strollers in this park, some with families. Too many ears to bear witness, and he hadn’t missed the fact that there were two sphinxes roaming the park, too.

The sphinxes weren’t the only threats. One of the golden corner statues—Hera, he thought, the queen of the Greek gods—turned her head and tilted it down to regard them as they passed, though if she was holding up a corner of the building, she probably couldn’t step away. Jess didn’t care for even that much attention. And then he saw out of the corner of his eye that one of the sphinxes had padded down the path and stretched out in a long, low crouch not far away. It wasn’t directly watching them, but the nearness of the thing made his instincts scream with alarm. It wasn’t so much that he was afraid they were following him—though he had to admit, he was more than a little haunted by the idea they were—but that he didn’t care for their closeness during such a highly illegal activity.