After the Fall(70)
“Magnus,” she whispered as she reined in, “Magnus, we need to get off now.”
She slid down, helped him dismount, and then slapped the horse’s rump, sending it trotting back toward the moonlit square.
A moment. It was all she had. Turning, Gigi set off through the shadows, helping Magnus along, moving as fast as she could go.
• • •
Sarus saw the riderless horse. Was this a diversion? Where were they? He reined in and looked around, his men already fanning out in all directions, searching, shouting, sensing blood.
At first he saw nothing, but then he caught sight of two dim shapes moving beneath the plane trees.
He turned his horse’s head and shouted, “There they are!”
• • •
Just as they reached the door of the baptistery, Gigi heard someone shouting. She propped Magnus against the wall and started pounding on the door, working the latch, yelling, “Help! Please, let me in. Hurry! I am a woman in need! Help me!”
Gigi glanced over her shoulder, then pulled out Magnus’s sword, thrusting it into his hands. His eyes seemed to focus and he stood straighter, gripping his weapon, ready to challenge the horsemen bearing down on them. Gigi continued pounding the door. “Please, let me in! Hurry, hurry! Please, hurry!”
The door opened, and Gigi barely had time to react, catching herself from falling in just as the watchman gaped at what was happening over her shoulder.
“Magnus!” she shouted, pushing the man away before he could close the door on them.
To her relief, Magnus followed her inside, then fell against the door, closing it. She took his hand and pulled him up the steps to the pulpit.
“Block the door!” Gigi shouted to the watchman, but the man shook his head and backed away.
Only seconds remained. This was it. The moment when …
“Magnus, hold on to me,” Gigi said, then yanked her flute from its leather sling.
If this doesn’t work …
Magnus grabbed her, nearly knocking her into the font, but she managed to stay upright. She put the flute to her trembling lips, thinking of home, of that moment years ago when she played “The Minute Waltz,” when she’d heard another flutist from far off, their music meshing note for note, when her life changed forever.
Her hands shook, and she cursed herself — jelly fingers! It took precious moments before she willed a semblance of composure and started to play. A few off-key notes issued from the flute, and she summoned all of her willpower to blow true.
Music filled the room, clear and lively, and she played on, gaining confidence, hoping, hoping, the air whirling with color. She heard an answering call and paused briefly to hear the faint sound of another flute, then began again with relish.
Magnus held her, his eyes wide with astonishment. Her gaze darted toward the watchman, who had fallen to his knees, then down at the door where a group of Roman soldiers stood, mouths open, staring up at them.
As the air around her twinkled, the other flutist matched her note for note, the melodies merging, beautiful, electrifying. Suddenly, Gigi saw the other player, a man in a garish purple toga, his fingers flashing gold, his flute silver. In the next instant, he vanished and she heard a solitary cry pierce the air.
Play! Play! She squeezed her eyes shut, frantically played. But she felt nothing like before, no roaring, no floor giving way.
Play harder! The notes were shrill, like a shriek or an agonizing wail, a pitiful prayer, and in desperation she played on and on.
Suddenly, Magnus let go and fell back against the pulpit. No, no!
Devastated, Gigi dropped her flute and grasped at him in fear, clutching him in farewell, weeping. She knew death was imminent — or worse, that they would face Honorius again, very, very soon.
She blinked away her tears and saw sunshine bathing Magnus in its glow, a last, beautiful moment of life in his arms.
“I love you, Magnus. I love you.”
He opened his eyes, then glanced over her shoulder and frowned, clearly sensing something.
She cringed and listened for the soldiers’ footsteps, then caught her breath, hearing instead the unmistakable sounds of … traffic?
Gigi stared at Magnus. Could it possibly be? Turning toward the entrance, she saw the kiosk and modern doorway, sunlight streaming in through the open door.
“Oh, my God.”
Hardly daring to believe, Gigi willed herself to accept the truth her senses were proclaiming — this was real!
“I, I think we made it,” she stammered. A wave of relief swept over her, and she started to help Magnus to his feet, but to her horror, his skin felt even colder than before, and his teeth were chattering again.