Milo...Return

        By Pattie Lawler

 

   

            Milo raised his free hand to wave at Constantine. The tall Greek smiled in greeting as he hurried past the security guards. The pilot was waiting with the diplomatic bag containing everything Milo and Simon needed for entry, and Constantine was swift to release Milo from his shackles.

            “I’ll carry it, anyway,” Milo said when offered a cart. “I promised to handle this personally, and it’s not that heavy.”

            “I come bearing letters from the President. While the repatriation of the spirit,” Constantine eyed the reliquary, “won’t be publicly announced, the fact that you are going to this amount of trouble, Milo, has touched more than a few hearts.”

            “It’s my pleasure to help in any way possible.”

            “There’s a plane waiting.” Constantine gestured down an alley formed by guards.

            Guards in dress uniform.

            “There isn’t a brass band at the end of this, is there?”

            “There are many that wanted one, but five hours just wasn’t enough time to prepare the desired reception. In our defense, we’re also trying to sneak past the church as much as you’re trying to lay low.”

            “Pagan spirits make them come out in a rash?”

            “Of the terminal variety.” Constantine laughed. “The New Age population would have been here, too, had word gotten out.”

            “Let’s hurry,” Milo chuckled, quickening his pace across the warm tarmac before another thought occurred. “I’m reminded of when Ramses the Great was taken to Paris for medical tests. I should have gotten a passport for the spirit, listing the occupation as ‘demigod, (removed).’”

            “You spoke to it?”

            “Several times. I like to think we have a very amicable, working relationship.”

            Constantine shook his head in awe. “Part of me envies you, Milo; part of me thinks you’re certifiable.”

            “Go with the latter, you’ll be better off.”

            “And on that note, do you know Sophia Savakis?”

            “In the biblical sense. Why?”

            “I hope it was as amicable a relationship as with the spirit. She’s your liaison.”

            “It wasn’t. I wish someone had thought to mention it to me.”

            Constantine looked abashed. “There just wasn’t time, Milo. I’m sorry.”

            “And you’re otherwise engaged?”

            The smile that split his face was dazzling. “My wife is having a caesarian tomorrow at eight.”

            “I absolve you, my son.” 

<0>           

            Always grateful for Simon’s company, Milo was never more so as the pontoon plane landed with a jarring bounce. The atmosphere in the plane during the brief ride was of the ‘thick as peanut butter’ variety.

            He spent the beginning of the trip mentally comparing Albany to Sophia, who appeared to be engaging in an equivalent exercise. He was surprised at himself for ever having found her interesting, let alone desirable. His conclusion was that it was youth and a lack of refined tastes that had led him astray. But he forgave himself his failings as it gave him a better appreciation of Albany.

Once settled with these thoughts, he relaxed and passed the remainder of the flight imagining what Albany was doing, what role she might be performing, and how soon he could see her again. Turning up unannounced on her doorstep was a favorite and often indulged fantasy that he availed himself of yet again.

<0>

            The drive to the Sanctuary of Asklepios was conducted in the same stony silence that had permeated the flight. The sun was setting, and Milo belatedly wondered where he was going to spend the night.

            “What do you plan on doing when you get to the sanctuary?” Sophia suddenly asked, looking at Milo in the rearview mirror.

            “I plan on asking you to wait by the car while I conduct my business.”

            She gave a soft snort. “I have been instructed—”

            “To wait with the car,” Milo cut in. “If you want an order from your President, explaining my requirements, I’d be only too happy to call him.”

            She lapsed into silence as they pulled into the parking lot. Milo fairly leapt from the car and took a moment to inspect the reliquary before joining Simon, who was digging in the trunk.

            “Keep an eye on her,” he said loud enough for Sophia to hear.

            “Sure, boss.”

   <0>         

            Milo strode the well-tended path to the sanctuary. He wanted to be to there and back before the sun was completely gone. Snapping a leafy twig off an olive tree, he sniffed the raw end as he hurried along.

            The gate had been left open, and he turned away from the path to the theater and made for the temple. He hadn’t gone far, however, when a large man emerged from the bushes to block his path. Tempted to say, ‘You’re late,’ Milo contented himself with a wide grin.

            “I’ll take that,” the man said, his hand out.

            “No, you won’t.” Milo heard movement behind him.

            “It wasn’t a question.”

            “And my statement wasn’t open to discussion.”

            The man pulled a gun from behind his back. “We’re going to the theater. Now.”

            With a shrug, Milo turned back up the empty path.

<0> 

            The sun was a massive orange ball just over the horizon as they strode across the circular stage. Milo was far enough away from his captor that he knew he couldn’t throw the reliquary with any degree of accuracy. But he wasn’t concerned.

            “Did they tell you what’s in the tube?”

            “Shut up.”

            He clicked his tongue in reply. “Manners! I was just wondering why we didn’t go back to the parking lot. If you’re going to make me carry it, you might as well shorten your trip.”

            “That’s none of your business.”

            “But it is, actually.” Milo stopped, set the reliquary down and sat on it, facing the man. “You see, I promised the spirit of the temple of Apollon Maleatas that I would bring it home.” He gestured to the graceful, half-circle of the theater. “And while this isn’t the exact location, it’s close enough.” Turning back, he locked eyes with the man. “Do you know what your third mistake was?”

            The man snorted. “Third?”

            Milo nodded. “Your third mistake was in bringing me to an area where Simon has a clear shot.” He raised the olive twig overhead.

            The report of the bullet that clipped the leaves off rolled like thunder amidst the perfect acoustics of the theater.

            Milo lowered his hand and smiled at the man. “Do you want to hear mistakes one and two, or do you trust me?”

            The man bolted for the edge of the stage. Milo watched him go.

            “You’re always so sure of yourself,” Sophia growled, moving clear of the shadow of the seats.

            Milo’s gaze dropped and he tugged at a glove. “Human nature never changes, Sophie. Once you internalize this fact, you can read people like a book. You, for instance, think that you know where Simon is. You think you’re safely out of the line of fire. You’re not considering that he’s already seen you and moved.”

            She leapt back.

            “But the really big mistake you and your compatriot made?” he looked at her for confirmation, but she didn’t reply, “Assumptions.”

            Milo rose, turned to the reliquary, put his boot against the top edge and shoved. It skittered then rolled, the open, stiff door making it hop with each revolution.

            Sophia gasped. “What have you done?”

            Milo turned back to her, a broad smile on his face. “What I promised to do. I brought Somnia home. Perhaps you recall that the parking lot is closest to the temple? I was simply leading you on a wild goose chase.”

            “Why?”

            “Why?” Milo chuckled. “Why, to learn who you’re working for, of course.”

            She glowered at him. “What do you care?”

            Crossing his arms, Milo stared her down. “She isn’t going to the highest bidder, Sophie. She wanted to be home, and home she is. You can tell your boss he’s too late.”

            Staggering from the shadows, Sophia corkscrewed to the ground as Somnia put an end to the argument.

            “Pleasant dreams,” Milo whispered. He recovered the lead tube and set it upright on the stage. Convinced that Somnia had dealt with any other lurking, would-be kidnappers, he gave Simon the thumbs up.

            “I’m going to say goodbye to the spirit,” he said, knowing the acoustics would carry his words to his bodyguard. “Won’t be but a mo’.”

            Walking to the edge of the theater, Milo settled himself on one of the seats and relaxed.

            “Thank you, Milo Scarlet.”

            He smiled up at Albany, standing before him in her Octavian armor.

            “I can’t thank you enough.”

            “Is everything all right? No problems with other spirits?”

            She raised her head, her gaze searching for the temple on the hill top. “So much has changed, and yet,” she smiled, her hazel eyes finding him again. “And yet, it’s exactly the same.”

            He laughed. “That’s because it’s after hours. Tomorrow, when the buses start arriving, it will be business as usual, just like when the sanctuary was enjoying its golden age. Will you be able to stand the noise and the crowds without a task to perform? There’s no longer a place for those who are searching for healing to rest and enjoy your powers.”

            She nodded. “I saw the temple and the hospital. There’s nothing but rubble.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            They lapsed into silence. After a minute, Milo rose, reaching for her hand.

            “Allow me to offer you another option...namely, me. You’re welcome to stay with me, for as long as you’d like. I don’t have the statue, of course, but you’re welcome to inhabit Six Hammers until a more permanent home is found.” Lacing his fingers between hers, he smiled down at her. “Or, if you like, I’ll buy Hypnos and lock you away for all of eternity. I would like to think you’re happy, no matter what you chose to do.”

            Albany’s gaze withdrew as she considered. “It is true,” she thought aloud, “there is nothing for me here.” She shook her head. “So many years! So many years struggling to return and now...” Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at his chest. “The all-consuming need to be home is gone.”

            “Are you sad?”

            She was still, but then a smile slowly split her face. “No. Not sad. Tired.”

            Milo threw his head back, laughing with delight and she joined him. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and put his forehead to hers.

            “I’ll buy the statue, and we’ll keep it in reserve, in case Six Hammers doesn’t meet with your expectations. You can decide what you’d like later, there’s no rush. And if you want to come back here, then I’ll bring you. No questions asked.”

            She rolled her forehead across his like she was shaking her head. “I think Six Hammers would make a nice change.”

            Milo’s smile grew, and he kissed her nose before releasing her. “Do you want to meet Albany?”

            “Your future wife?”

            “My potential wife,” he corrected, taking her hand and leading her toward the edge of the stage. “People marry for love, nowadays, and Albany and I haven’t decided if we’re in love yet.”

            “That’s not true,” Somnia protested. “I can see all of you, Milo Scarlet. You have no secrets from me.”

            “Yes, but Albany has only recently met me. She has a lot to learn about me, and me of her.”

            Somnia nodded. “I would like to meet her. Someday. But for now—”

            “I understand. Bed for you. Six Hammers is in the car.”

<0> 

            Simon was waiting for him and told of the several sleeping bodies he passed. Milo was delighted to lock the gate of the sanctuary, trapping them all within.

            “I left the reliquary. This way, it looks like the spirit has returned home. No one will ever know.”

            Opening the box that housed the obsidian blade, Milo waited a moment and touched the black glass. A wave of sleep told him all he needed to know.

            “We’re good to go.”

            “The plane is waiting to take us back to Athens. Joe says there’s a commercial flight to London.”

            “Excellent! I wanna talk to Chris. I’ve decided to buy Hypnos."

 

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