He nodded and almost walked away . . . but then came back, leaned over the table, and said, “Be careful how you go. I don’t want to bring anything down on you.”

She actually laughed like a little girl. Genuinely amused. “My father is the most wanted man in all of Alexandria; I am quite used to being careful. But thank you for your concern.”

She was right, of course—not that it made him feel any better about having involved her.

Then he went about his real business of the night, to a deserted street on the outskirts of the University district. It held spacious homes built in a modern style, but with bows to Egyptian design and sensibility. Expensive, this area. Well-known for being the home of several prestigious Scholars. There was even a statue of the great inventor Heron on one corner, though, to Jess’s great relief, it was only made of stone and was not an automaton.

He still hesitated in the shadow of Heron’s statue as he studied the house in front of him. It was large and comfortable, with Egyptian fluted columns and red- and gold-painted decoration. A small fountain whispered in the courtyard, sending a little silver mist into the air. It was a private sort of place. He liked it.

Jess moved quietly up the shallow front steps and knocked.

His brother opened the door.

For a moment, they stood there staring at each other—still eerily similar mirror images, even now, though Brendan’s hair had grown long and messy around his face and he’d gained a few pounds. Egyptian life either did not agree with him or agreed with him too much. Hard to say which at the moment.

“You’re supposed to have left town months ago,” Jess said. “Idiot.”

Brendan was wearing a loose silk sleeping robe, and he stepped back, rubbed his face, and said, “Get in before someone sees you.”

Jess stepped into a darkened entry hall. He had the impression of expensive tastes, beautiful decorations and furniture, but it was a strangely empty sort of display, as though an expert decorator had done everything. No real personality to it. And, of course, no books. Not even a Library shelf of Blanks. Brendan wasn’t much of a reader.

“What are you doing here?” Brendan asked. Jess shrugged, and got a hard-eyed glare from his brother in response. “For God’s sake, do you know what time it is, Jess?”

“I’ve passed training,” he said, because he realized he had to say something, and Brendan gave him a disbelieving stare.

“What do you want? Congratulations? A nicely wrapped gift? Weren’t you supposed to be a full Scholar by now?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be back home?” Because Brendan wasn’t supposed to still be in Alexandria. “The last letter from Mother almost seemed worried about you.”

“Almost,” Brendan said. “Well. That’s something.”

A girl of about Jess’s own age appeared in the doorway. She was dressed neatly in a loose white gown belted with gold, and her hair was swept back smoothly in a braided queue. Pretty features, sharp cheekbones, skin the color of blushed copper. She met Brendan’s eyes with remarkable ease to say, “I see you have a visitor. May I bring you anything, sir?”