“I know. And that’s even before we have to talk to Mom and Dad.”

Josh nodded. He glanced over at Sophie. He’d been mulling something over for the past few days, and figured this would be the perfect time to bring it up. “I’ve been thinking,” he said slowly. “Maybe we should just tell them the truth.”

“The truth?” Sophie’s expression remained unchanged and the twins continued walking, crossing Jackson Street. They could see their aunt’s white wooden Victorian house three blocks away.

“What do you think?” Josh asked, when his sister said nothing more.

Finally Sophie nodded. “Sure, we could.” She brushed a few strands of blond hair out of her eyes and looked at her brother. “But just let me get this straight first. We’re going to tell Mom and Dad that their entire life’s work has been for nothing. That everything they have ever studied-history, archaeology and paleontology-is wrong.” Her eyes sparkled. “I think it’s a great idea. But I’ll let you go ahead and do it, and I’ll watch.”

Josh shrugged uncomfortably. “OK, OK, so we don’t tell them.”

“Not yet, in any case.”

“Agreed, but it’ll come out sooner or later. You know how impossible it is to keep secrets from them. They always know everything.”

“That’s because Aunt Agnes tells them,” Sophie muttered.

A sleek black stretch limousine with tinted windows drove slowly past them, the driver leaning forward, checking addresses on the tree-lined street. The car signaled and pulled in farther down the block.

Josh indicated the limo with a jerk of his chin. “That’s weird. It looks like it’s stopping outside Aunt Agnes’s.”

Sophie looked up disinterestedly. “I just wish there was someone we could talk to,” she murmured. “Someone like Gilgamesh.” Her blue eyes magnified with sudden tears. “I hope he’s OK.” The last time she had seen the immortal, he’d just been wounded by an arrow fired by the Horned God. She looked at her brother, irritated. “You’re not even listening to me.”

“That car is stopping outside Agnes’s house,” Josh said slowly. A vague warning tingled at the back of his skull. “Soph?”

“What is it?”

“When was the last time Aunt Agnes had a visitor?”

“She never has visitors.”