He was also perfectly at ease with me—self-possessed and almost charming. He wore a dark gray wool suit of English tailoring and fine narrow handmade high string shoes with wing tips, fashionable.

“I burned up in my cell within the oak here in this very country,” he said, “when the Queen was exposed to the sun in Egypt.” He spoke evenly, calmly. Only his many gold and jeweled rings looked ancient. “I felt the raging fire,” he said. “I barely survived it. You know all this but let me verify it for you. Believe me, the old legend is quite true. All Marius ever told you of me is true. You hold my life in your hands as you hold the life of the entire tribe in your hands. Go forth into the sun, and we’ll all feel it, some to survive, some to suffer agonies and wish they hadn’t, and some to be immolated entirely.”

“He’s patronizing you,” Amel hissed. “How can you stand him? Either you leave here or I will.” But he didn’t want to leave. I knew he didn’t.

“Be still,” I said silently. “I want to be here and I’m staying here, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He was happy but wouldn’t admit it.

Teskhamen laughed softly.

“Tell our blessed friend I can hear him well enough,” said Teskhamen. “But be assured, Prince, we’re glad to see you. I don’t know that we are glad to receive him. But we are glad to see you. We didn’t expect you. We’d more or less given up on hearing from you. We’re very glad you’ve come.”

The others said nothing. Gremt stared into the fire. He did not appear rude or hostile, but preoccupied, preoccupied enough to ignore me, preoccupied and anguished. His eyes moved uneasily over the burning logs, and there was a subtle gnawing quality to his lips, as if he truly was flesh and blood and unable to conceal his misery.

Magnus, who sat across from me, seemed supernaturally still. Then something came over him. I felt it as surely as I saw it, and in a flash, he was altered indescribably and completely. The made-up ghost was gone. There was the monster I knew from the night of my mortal death, the same hollow withered white cheeks and huge black eyes, and mop of long tangled black hair streaked with shining silver. A dark cold chill passed through me.

“Remember, any ghost is working with your brain, my beloved,” said Amel, “to make you see what you are seeing.”

What was I to do with that brilliant bit of intelligence?