For the next hour, Vic and I bowed over the screen of my laptop, different online translation tools, and the few Latin textbooks the library offered. We had already filled several sheets with unsatisfactory phrases for a potential counter curse. In the end, we decided on a brief three-liner that left open much to interpretation. I studied the final version, squeezed into the corner of a sheet of notes in Vic's neat handwriting.

Marius et Cinna
ut maledictio frangatur
libertas aeterna

Vic reread the text around and sighed. "What do you think, can this work? Maledictio has secondary meanings of abuse or revile, which aren't exactly the same."

"I wouldn't know, but the whole thing seems straightforward enough. Frangatur means being broken. I think this conveys our meaning quite clear."

"True, and the last part about eternal liberty has a nice general touch. I guess it could be worse."

I grinned. "For sure, and I'm ready to try with this, as it's simple enough to make me believe there are no hidden meanings that will cause a nasty backlash."

"Is this a possibility?" Her eyes widened,

I was tempted to tell her a few of my grandma's stories about magic gone awry. But I decided against it. It wouldn't help me if I had anxious spectators for the ritual. "I don't think so. We try to avoid meddling with the original curse, that's why I like maledictio. In the original form, it means to say something bad about someone. Which is far less strong than the word curse. What do you think, is it time o check if the men found something that can serve as a tablet?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. Let me transcribe the text into Roman capital letters first. We want it to be as authentic as possible."

I doubted the gods would find fault with modern letters, but watched in fascination how she rewrote the text onto a clean sheet, replacing E with II and U with V. "Not sure this will help, but it looks more authentic, almost Roman." She studied the finished version with a frown and shook her head. "I still can't grasp we're doing this. It's against everything I ever believed."

I shrugged. "This is also against everything I wanted to achieve in my career. I studied history and worked in a library for a reason. Means I straight out rejected my spiritual heritage until a few months ago." Her brows climbed her forehead, the gesture of disbelief making me smile. "It's true. But life has weird and often mysterious ways, and sometimes it's best to follow them and see where they lead."

"You might be right." She folded the paper with the finished message. "The encounter with Cinna and your knightly friend were eye openers for me. Since when do you think Paul was possessed?"

"To judge by his bad temper when Matt and I visited the dig, he already was in deep that day. Paul still had some control, but I bet part of the attitude was pure Roman misogyny. I also bet it was Marius' ghost that spooked Chiara and Béa while he still was floating around your dig on the loose. He must have picked Paul as a vessel between that moment and the day you extracted the urn."

Vic shivered. "Paul began acting weird for the first time two days prior to your visit. Then, I thought it must be stress or that he came down with the flu. I hope we find a possibility to help him—well, him and the Roman ghosts."

"We'll give our best. Come, let's see what Matt and Lou found for us."

In the workshop in the former storage room, the men had collected several old pieces of silverware from a heap of scrap metal once meant to be melted down or reused in sculptures. I sifted through the collection of crushed cups, fake ethnic jewellery and undefined scraps. The broken half of a small serving tray caught my eye, twisted and tarnished, one ornate handle still attached.

Lou grinned. "I thought you might like this one. Here, this should work for the engraving." He handed me a Dremel, a small cordless power tool already fitted with a conical grinding head.

I switched the sleek tool on and off, the penetrant whine reminding me of my last appointment with the dentist, before I passed it on to Matt. "You should take a go at this. I'm too clumsy with this kind of stuff."

Vic handed him the paper with the text. "Here, we all know you're the one with the talent for engineering and precision work. You would have made a clockmaker. Just remember to write backwards."

"Backwards?" Matt's face looked like he'd received another one of Paul's kidney blows. "You might remember I struggled with orthography all my life. Why do you think I prefer writing with a word processor and let autocorrect decide about proper spelling?"

"Wait." Lou snatched the paper and picked a yellow artist's crayon from a shelf. He placed the tray on the workbench, the remaining handle on top, and transferred our blessing in neat mirror writing onto the even surface. "Here, this should help. Now, you only need a steady hand."

"Thanks, mate." Matt pulled up a three-legged stool and bowed over the work, the tool immersing us in a high-pitched squealing that made conversation impossible. With the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, he did a fantastic job. After Lou polished the finished tray with a rag and an ominous paste from a rusty container, the bright letters stood out from the tarnished silver in regular rows.

"Amazing job. At least I get to use a decent focus when I dabble in magical ritual work beyond my understanding."

"Are you afraid?" Lou placed a hand on my arm.

"Afraid, yes, a bit, and worried beyond reason. I've kept myself from meddling with the otherworld so far—at least to this extent." I withheld the memory of Grandma Elise warning me off after my first innocent forages into the supernatural realm as a child. Sure, later, she taught me how to keep out of trouble, and I never came to harm. But curses were a tricky business.

Matt seemed to perceive the dark drift of my thoughts. "You won't do a curse, but a blessing. If you keep reminding yourself of the positive notation every step of the way, there should be no harm in trying, right?"

"I hope not. Well, let's collect the other stuff we need, shall we?"

We loaded all the material on my checklist into Matt's van and returned to the library to finish our battle plan. Vic picked a hiking map from the shelf to show us where the En Chaplix cemetery had been excavated. "It was discovered during the construction of the highway. Today, nothing remains of the monument in the terrain and we won't be able to locate the exact spot where the curse tablet was found without triangulation. Chances are great it's directly beneath the highway. Will this be a problem?"

"No, I doubt it." I leaned over the map. At least there was a maintenance road we could use to get as close to the site as possible. "The fact Cinna and Marius both followed the lamp to the depot proves we could do the ritual everywhere. Still, I don't want to blunder and hope it will be more successful if we are close to where the original events unfolded."

"Then we best meet in the visitors' parking of the coffee factory here, cross the street, and search for a suitable spot in this field. The memoria stood here, where the dam ends and the viaduct begins." She pointed out the spot, and I searched for the place on my phone to set a marker.

Matt did the same. "When do you think is the best moment for the ritual?"

I called up a moon calendar. "We're close to the full moon, and sunrise is announced around seven tomorrow. The early morning hours will be best, then. Let's say five o'clock, to allow us enough time to set up everything. We'll need lots of candles."

"We have some on stock for birthdays," Lou volunteered.

"I'd prefer those tea lights that come in a cup so they are protected from drafts."

Vic made a note on her phone. "I can pick them up on my way home. Will twenty or thirty do?"

I nodded. "Two dozen should be fine, perhaps a few spares."
"Sure. Anything else we need? What about incense? The Romans were keen on the stuff." It paid off to have an expert on the team.

"If you can get some, this will help. Incense sticks will do. And we also need something to dub as an altar."

Matt looked up from his screen. "What did the Romans use as altars?"

Vic bit her lip. "Stone blocks, rather heavy ones. I doubt we can log one out there."

"No need. It can be a stone slab or even a metal sheet. Something to build a small fire on so it doesn't touch the ground."

Lou rubbed his chin. "Would the fire bowl from the terrace work?"

It had been a favourite with hostel guests in the summer months for barbecues and singalongs. Now it stood unused in the patio. "Perfect. Then let's hope Sir Guillaume turns up in time to join the party."

Matt laughed and folded his screen. "No worries. Without the slightest doubt, the old charmer will give anything to be part of this adventure."