'Of course I have,' she quipped, 'but if I tell you that, it'll make me cleverer than you, and men don't like that in women. Now is this a private party, or can anyone join in?'
'Oh, be my guest,' he said, wriggling to give her access to the tortoise's open mouth. Her palms were moist, her stomach was in knots. It really was a strange sensation, feeling safe… but there was one more thing to do before she left this evil valley.
'Hear me,' she called, 'for I am Juno, Queen of Heaven.' Hey, the acoustics are good! 'To repay your disobedience, I shall destroy your Boat of Dreams.'
Grinning broadly from ear to ear, Orbilio tugged on a rope and to Claudia's delight the whole damned barque exploded. Cedarwood, oily and fragrant, sputtered and spat and sent out a spray of red sparks. Amethysts and emeralds, pearls and lapis lazuli grew black, and slowly the gold plating on the boat's high prow began to drizzle down the side.
What a waste…
'I don't know what that High Priest keeps in that moleskin pouch of his,' Claudia said, and her voice sounded husky, 'but it's pretty damned effective.'
'So are you,' he rasped, and she realised that, at some stage, his arm had closed around her shoulder. 'So the hell are you.'
Inside the bronze tortoiseshell, the two of them seemed locked together, eyes on eyes, nose to nose, body pressed to body.
'Marcus?'
There was a beat of perhaps five. 'Claudia?'
She could hear his ragged breathing, even over the tumbling of buildings, the crackle of the flames, the roaring thunderbolts. 'Marcus.. Will you always be here for me? 'Marcus
…'
'Claudia?'
Will you always keep me safe? 'Marcus Cornelius, will you shift that damned pommel out my bloody way?'
And in their dark, bronze, private shell she heard him chuckle. 'That,' he said, 'is not my scimitar. Behave yourself.'
Behave?
Claudia Seferius?
You must be joking!