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"Va bene." Phaidros clapped his hands. "Take me with you."

Alexis suspected Phaidros would offer to come because, like Alexis, he got bored easily, and there was only so much gambling and fucking he could do before he wanted to do something else for a while.

"I don't think you would—" Alexis began his objection when Phaidros held up his hand.

"Actually, no. I retract the offer. I have thought about it for two seconds, and the answer is no. I'm not going to sea in March in a boat the size of a large fruit bowl with a man who has been sulking for six months. I'll kill you before Corfu. I love you, my brother, so I'm saying no out of love."

Alexis tried not to groan at his nonsense. "I accept it in the spirit in which it was given, but I don't want you to come either."

"Also, I'm supposed to be taking Zo to the festival of San Marco in three weeks."

"Of course you are."

Nereus glanced sideways at Alexis. "Apparently, Zo is bringing Aelia home for it."

"Ah," Alexis replied, and that said it all. Phaidros had one weak spot since they were young magicians on Atlantis, and that was Aelia. They fought like cats and dogs, and yet, for Phaidros, it had always been her. The moon had a better chance of ending its love affair with the sea than Phaidros ever letting his pining for Aelia go.

Phaidros ran a hand through his golden curls. "I want to see Zo. Aelia will probably just sulk at me the entire time, afterward pretend she had a wonderful evening, and then not speak to me for a century. I can't miss it."

"The festival?" Alexis teased.

"No, her sulking. The festival is incidental." Phaidros produced a small flask from somewhere in his coat, unscrewed it, and handed it to Alexis. "Drink. Be careful. Come back with the books and treasures. And, Alexis, amico mio…"

"What?"

"If you are gone longer than a month, I'll send Zo to find you, and Zo will bring a fishing rod and sing his latest poems to you the entire way home just to annoy you."

Alexis laughed softly. "Understood."

"I'm not joking."

"I know you aren't." Alexis had a mouthful of the strong spirits and handed it back to the other magician. "I won't take long. Zo can save his experimental poetry and new songs for another time."

Phaidros held Alexis's gaze, and for a silent beat, the joking vanished, and his mask fell. In its place was an old man who had lost everyone he had ever loved, save six magicians.

He was not about to lose another to a boat or a misguided attempt at heroism. He was also wise enough not to try to stop Alexis. He knew that after Alexis had almost been burned alive in Alexandria, there wasn't a power on earth that could stop him when he was in this kind of mood.

"Just don't do anything too stupid and come back, Alexis. Don't make us worry about you," he said.

"Never fear, I always leave the stupid to you." Alexis clasped his forearm, and Phaidros took his. "I promise to come back, I always do. Help Nereus make space in the Archives for what I plan on bringing home, huh? And get some sleep."

"It's for the weak," Phaidros replied, flashing the charming smile that had always gotten him into serious trouble or out of it again.

Phaidros gave Nereus another flourishing bow, told her she looked better in a wet cloak than any woman of his acquaintance had a right to, and was gone back up the dock toward the gondola he had tied to the far bollard. He whistled as he went, and the song echoed under the low roof of the dry dock before fading into the fog.

Nereus watched him go with a deep fondness. "All these years, and he's still a disaster."

"But he is our disaster," Alexis chuckled.

"Alas." She turned back to Alexis. "One more thing, and then I'll leave you to your lines. The city isn't going to want to be saved. You'll walk through rooms full of people who will die within the week, and you won't be able to tell them. They won't believe you, and you know it. You know what that choice will cost you because you can't help but want to try."

Alexis's chest squeezed tight. Too many ghosts followed him as it was. "Nereus…"

"I've made that choice more than once, as you know," she said, resting a hand on his cheek. "I won't tell you how to weigh it. I will only tell you that whichever way you choose, when you come home, I'll be here. I'll pour you wine, and I won't ask unless you want me to."

He nodded before taking her hand from his cheek and kissing it. "Thank you, maestra."

She inclined her head and turned to go. At the edge of the dock, she paused. "One more thing. If you find something walking about in the city that isn't supposed to be alive, don't kill it before you have spoken to it."