Текст книги "The First Stone"

Автор книги: Mark Anthony

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Travis tried to count the shadows he had seen. “Too many,” he said, and ran faster. The gorlethswere abominations spawned by the Scirathi, creatures pieced together from the blood and flesh of multiple beasts. Their strength, hunger, and desire to kill knew no limits.

“Where are we going?” Beltan asked as they rounded a corner.

Travis pointed. “There. The Tube station. We can catch a train to the Charterhouse.”

They pounded the last hundred yards to the entrance of the station, and Travis uttered a constant litany of runes as they dashed down a flight of steps. It was late, and there was no attendant on duty in the booth next to a bank of turnstiles. Deirdre stopped, searching in her pockets.

Travis stared at her. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for a ticket. Ah.” She pulled a small cardboard rectangle from her pocket, put it in the slot, and passed through the turnstile.

Vani jumped over the turnstile after her. Beltan handed Nim to the T’goland followed suit, as did Travis.

Deirdre grimaced. “Well, if I had known we were going to be a gang of hoodlums, I would have saved the fare.”

“Come on,” Travis said, grabbing her hand.

They dashed down the steps that led to the southbound platform of the Jubilee line. They could take the train to Westminster, then catch either the District or Circle line to the Blackfriars station. From there it was only a few blocks to the Seeker Charterhouse.

And what if the Scirathi know where the Charterhouse is? What if they’re staking it out?

Travis set aside the question. They could worry about that on the train ride there. They halted at the edge of the platform. Travis leaned out, peering down the lightless tunnel, hoping to feel the puff of air that would indicate an arriving train.

“How long until a vehicle comes?” Vani said, cradling Nim. The girl seemed unable or unwilling to blink.

Travis peered at the electronic sign over the platform. It was blank. There were no other passengers in sight; the platform was deserted.

“I don’t see a schedule anywhere,” Deirdre said, gazing around. “The trains don’t run as often this late at night.”

“Or maybe not at all,” Beltan said. He knelt to pick up a length of yellow plastic tape from the tile floor—the kind of tape often used for police or construction barricades. The blond man held out the tape. Words were printed on it: DO NOT ENTER. CLOSED FOR MAINT—

“Great Spirit protect us,” Deirdre murmured, gripping her bear claw necklace, but Travis knew it was too late for that, that there was nothing to protect them now.

Vani turned, arms locked around Nim. “We were herded here. This is where they wanted us to come all along.”

Even as the T’golspoke, the first hungry, guttural sounds skittered along the curved tile walls of the station.

13.

There was a stairway at either end of the platform; the growling noises emanated from both.

“Get ready, Vani.” Beltan said as he raised his sword. Travis hadn’t realized the knight had carried it all this way.

“Deirdre, take Nim,” Vani said, handing the girl to the Seeker. “I must be free to fight.”

“I don’t want you to fight the ’leths,” Nim said, then began to cry.

Vani caressed her damp cheek. “You must be brave, daughter.”

Nim nodded, her sobs ceasing if not her tears, and Deirdre hugged the girl tight, looking as if she was trying to be brave herself.

“Travis,” Beltan said, alternating his gaze between both stairways, “can you speak any runes that might help us?”

Travis was so tired. Speaking runes on Earth was like running through water: great effort for little effect. “I’ll try.”

The first dark forms appeared at the foot of both stairways. They were the size of apes. But then, the gorlethshad been apes once—or at least part of them had. Chimpanzees were one of the animals the Scirathi used in fashioning the gorlethshere on Earth. What other animals they had used, Travis could only imagine. Muscles writhed under the skin of their humped backs, their digits ended in curved talons, and knifelike teeth jutted from their maws.

Beltan and Vani each faced one of the stairwells, with Travis, Deirdre, and Nim between them. The first gorlethshad already covered half the distance across the platform, their talons scraping against the tiles, making a sound like fingernails being dragged across a blackboard. Their pale eyes shone with hungry intelligence.

“Not to rush you, Travis,” Beltan said, holding his sword ready, “but now would be a good time for those runes.”

Travis drew in a breath, but he felt so weak—just like rune magic did here on Earth.

By the Lost Hand of Olrig, that’s no way for a Runelord to think!Jack Graystone’s voice thundered in his mind. You’re a wizard, Travis, on this or any world. Now speak a rune.Gelth should do nicely, I think.

This time Jack was right. Travis clenched his right fist, knowing without looking that the silvery symbol—three crossed lines, the rune of runes—had blazed to life on his palm.

“ Gelth,” he intoned.

Again he felt the deep wrenching sensation inside, as if someone had just punched him in the gut. The rune had no effect.

Beltan tightened his hands around the hilt of the sword. “Travis . . .”

There was love in the blond man’s voice, and urgency. The gorlethswere so close Travis could hear their whuffling, could smell the putrid reek of their breath.

“ Gelth!” Travis shouted, straining with all his being.

This time a thousand voices chanted the rune in his mind, and he felt a hum resonate through him like a tone through a pitchfork. Instantly, tiny, glittering crystals precipitated out of thin air, frosting the gorleths’dark fur, and sheeting the tiles of the platform with a glaze of ice.

On Eldh, Travis would have been able to conjure an ice storm; he could have frozen the gorlethssolid. However, in some ways, the coating of ice was equally effective. The curved talons of the gorlethscould find no purchase. The nearest creatures let out shrieks of fury as they fell, skidding across the platform.

One slid close to Beltan, and the blond knight took the opportunity to swing his sword, lopping the beast’s head off. Another gorlethflew over the edge of the platform. There was a sizzling sound as the creature struck one of the electrified rails on which the trains ran.

Vani gazed at the smoking gorleth, then glanced at Beltan. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

The blond man snorted. “I think everyone is thinking what you’re thinking.”

Three more gorlethsremained close by and were starting to slowly crawl toward them, while five or six of the beasts clustered at the foot of each stairwell, testing the ice with their talons; it was already beginning to melt. They could fight four of the creatures, maybe five. But not a dozen of them, not even with Beltan and Vani.

The T’golprowled toward one of the nearby gorleths, moving across the ice as surefooted as if it were rough cement. Beltan started to do the same, but he swore as he nearly lost his footing, only catching himself by digging the point of his sword into the ice.

Travis knelt and touched Beltan’s boots. “ Krond,” he murmured.

“What are you doing?” Beltan yowled stamping his feet. “That’s hot!”

The ice melted through to the tiles where his boots touched.

“Oh,” he said, then started toward one of the struggling gorleths, able to move across the ice now, if not as quickly as Vani. The creature reached for him, trying to rake open his stomach, but Beltan swiped with his sword, sending the beast’s arm spinning across the ice. He kicked, and the gorlethflew over the edge of the platform, striking the rails. Again came the sizzle of electricity, a sound that continued as Vani heaved first one, then another gorlethover the edge. However, one of them raked its claws across her leg, and she limped as she came back toward them, trailing a line of blood.

“It is a scratch,” she said in answer to their looks, but her words were more for Nim’s benefit than theirs. The ice was growing slushy beneath her feet, not just Beltan’s.

“ Gelth,” Travis said, pressing his hand against the floor, murmuring the rune over and over. The tiles froze again, but they began to melt almost immediately. Despite the chill that radiated from them, Travis was sweating, and he couldn’t stop shaking. He kept speaking runes.

A group of gorlethsedged away from one of the stairwells. They crept across the ice, pressing themselves against the wall at the end of the platform for support, moving toward the edge.

“What are they doing?” Beltan said.

Vani’s gold eyes narrowed. “They’re learning.”

When they reached the edge of the platform, the beasts lowered themselves into the trench where the trains ran, careful to avoid the electrified rails. Slowly, the gorlethsbegan making their way parallel to the rails. Creatures from the other end of the platform were following suit. Travis knew what would happen when they reached the center of the platform. They would climb back up; and then there would be no escaping them.

Deirdre eyed the advancing monsters. “Travis, stop it with the ice runes. I think we need to run for the stairs.”

However, even as she said this, several more gorlethsappeared at the foot of each stairwell. Vani and Beltan stood at the edge of the platform, ready to try to fend off the creatures when they started to climb up, though there were far too many of them. The snarls of the gorlethsechoed off the curved walls of the tunnel, a cacophony that drowned out the voices of the Runelords in Travis’s mind. He stopped speaking the rune of ice and knelt on the tiles, bowing his head, exhausted.

A puff of air caressed his cheeks—warm rather than cold, smelling of steel and soot.

In Castle City, Travis had often stood on the boardwalk in front of the Mine Shaft Saloon, facing toward the mountains. He would feel an ache of possibility in his chest as he waited for the wind, wondering what it might blow his way. Only he knew what this wind was bringing. Already he could feel the tiles vibrating beneath his knees.

“Vani, Beltan! Get back!”

The two hesitated, then stepped away from the edge. Travis stood and grabbed Deirdre, pulling her and Nim back. The first gorleths, three of them, started to scramble up onto the platform, their eyes glowing with malice. They opened their fanged maws and roared.

The roar grew louder, deeper, filling the tunnel like thunder. The gorlethsshut their maws, but the roar continued. Their pale eyes flickered with confusion, and they turned to look down the tunnel—

–just as the oncoming train struck them.

Two of the gorlethswent flying through the air, their bodies limp and broken before they crashed onto the tiles. The third was caught between the train and the platform, its body smearing into a stripe of black jelly. The gorlethsin the trench shrieked, then their cries were cut short.

Beltan, Vani, and Deirdre all stared, motionless with shock, but Travis knew they only had a moment. The ice had melted. Already the gorlethsfrom the stairwells were loping toward them across the platform. The train slowed, wheels screeching in protest.

“Everyone!” Travis shouted. “Get into the train!”

His words shattered their paralysis; they started moving. The train rattled to a stop, and a set of doors whooshed open before them.

Anders stood on the other side.

“Hello there, mates,” he said in his cheery, gravelly voice. As usual, the Seeker wore a sleek designer suit that could barely contain the bulk of his shoulders. His close-cropped hair looked freshly bleached—an unnatural contrast to his dark beard and eyebrows.

“Anders,” Deirdre breathed. “How—?”

Travis shoved Deirdre, pushing her through the doors.

“Mind the gap,” intoned a voice over the loudspeakers. The gorlethssnarled as they drew close. Vani and Beltan jumped into the train, Travis on their heels.

“Close the doors!” Anders shouted into a black walkie-talkie.

The doors whooshed shut just as the gorlethsstruck them. The train rocked under the blow. Vani and Beltan stumbled back, and talons slipped through the crack between the doors, wrenching them open. A snarling head shot through the gap, and before Travis could scream, the thing’s maw clamped around his upper arm.

The gorleth’steeth sank easily into his flesh. He could see the creature’s gullet moving. It was suckling, pulling blood out of the wound with terrible force, swallowing it. A buzzing noise filled Travis’s ears. The world began to go white, and he no longer felt pain.

He watched through a veil as Vani and Beltan shoved on the doors, closing them, catching the creature’s neck as in a vise. It opened its maw to let out a hiss, releasing Travis’s arm. Travis stumbled back, and Beltan’s sword flashed. The gorleth’shead rolled to the floor, and the doors clamped shut. Outside the windows of the train the creature’s decapitated body slumped backward onto the tiles.

Vani took Nim from Deirdre. The girl was not crying. Her face was ashen and her eyes were circles of fear as she stared at Travis.

“Anders,” Deirdre said, grabbing her partner’s arm, “get this train running again.”

“You got it, mate.” Anders raised the walkie-talkie and pressed a button. “Eustace, take us out of the station. Now.”

The train lurched into motion, pulling away from the platform. Travis caught one last glimpse of the remaining gorlethson the edge of the platform, swarming around the headless body of their kin. Then the train passed into the darkness of a tunnel, and he felt strong hands lowering him into a seat.

“Travis, are you all right?” It was Beltan, his green eyes worried.

“He has lost much blood,” Vani said.

Before Anders could react, she tore one of the sleeves from his suit coat and bound it around Travis’s arm.

“Hey, now!” Anders said, annoyance on his pitted face. “You don’t just go making bandages out of Armani.”

Travis shook his head. The fog was beginning to lift. “I’m fine, really. I just got dizzy for a moment.”

But was it the loss of blood that had made him dizzy, or the smell of it? It filled his nostrils now: the rich, coppery scent. Were the morndaristill sated? Could he not call them to him with blood such as his?

“Travis?” Beltan touched his cheek.

He focused on the blond man’s face, letting the desire to work blood sorcery fade away. Only it didn’t, not completely.

Deirdre slumped back against one of the seats. “How did you find us?” she said to Anders. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

“I got your message, mate,” Anders said, gripping a pole as the train rattled around a corner. “I must have just missed you, only when I called back you didn’t answer. It sounded like you’d gotten yourself into a bit of a scrape, so I decided to investigate. I went to the Bond Street station to hop on the Tube to Travis and Beltan’s neighborhood, and I knew something was definitely wrong when I ran into this chap.”

The Seeker picked up something resting on one of the seats: a gold mask. There was a small hole between the mask’s eyes.

“Needless to say, I was a bit surprised,” Anders continued, clearly enjoying telling the story. “This fellow here wiggled his fingers at me, and I suppose my heart should have exploded. Only I think something made his magic go all wonky. He got flustered, and I took the chance to get a shot off. Turns out their masks don’t stop bullets so well. Eustace showed up then. You remember him, Deirdre—the new apprentice you met the other day, scrappy lad. He had caught some chatter on the police radio scanners, something about a commotion at the Green Park station, and right away we had a pretty good notion what was up. So Eustace headed to the front of the train. There was no sign of the driver, but he got the train running, and here we are.”

Deirdre stood and gave Anders a fierce hug.

Surprise registered in his vivid blue eyes and—for a moment, Travis thought—a note of wistfulness. “Now there, mate, that’s enough of that. You would have done the same for me. Besides, I don’t think partners are supposed to fraternize quite like this.” He gently pushed her away.

“Are we heading to the Charterhouse?” she asked.

“On the double. I’d say it’s the only safe place in the city for these folks right now.”

“I do not understand this,” Vani said, sitting next to Travis. Nim was curled up on her lap. The girl’s eyes were closed now, but Travis was certain she was listening to every word. “There is no way the Scirathi could know I brought Nim to Earth,” Vani went on, her face hard with anger. She looked at Travis. “How could they have followed me across the Void, let alone to your home?”

Anders cleared his throat. “Actually, miss, I don’t think they did. I found something on the body of that sorcerer fellow– something that tells me it wasn’t your daughter they were after.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sheet of stiff paper. It was a photograph of a man.

“By the Blade of Vathris,” Beltan growled. “I swear I’ll kill them all!”

Another wave of dizziness swept over Travis, and not just from loss of blood. The man in the photo was him.

14.

It was far after midnight by the time they gathered in a mahogany-paneled parlor in the Seekers’ London Charterhouse.

Deirdre sank down into one of the parlor’s comfortably shabby chairs. For the first time since they heard the sound of glass breaking in Travis’s and Beltan’s flat her heart rate slowed to a normal cadence, and a feeling of safety encapsulated her, as familiar and reassuring as the embrace of the wing-backed chair.

It had taken over two hours to get through all of the Charterhouse’s security checkpoints. While it hadn’t been difficult to gain entry for Travis and Beltan—their files were on record with the Seekers—new dossiers had to be created for Vani and Nim. Fingers were printed, retinas scanned, and Deirdre’s authorization codes processed. She had thought the security guards would call Director Nakamura for confirmation, but to her surprise they hadn’t. It seemed Echelon 7 clearance was good for more than just access to Seeker databases.

“How long can we stay in this place?” Vani said, prowling around a Chippendale sofa where Nim lay curled up. The T’gollimped slightly, favoring her injured leg. The nurse—there was always one on duty at the Charterhouse—had cleaned and bandaged the wound.

“You can stay as long as you need to,” Deirdre said.

Vani gripped the laminated ID badge that hung from a lanyard around her neck. “And we can leave at any time?”

“Of course you can leave,” Anders said, hanging his torn suit coat on the back of a chair. “Not that I’d recommend it. In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s not exactly safe out there.”

Vani spun around, advancing on him. “You Seekers are arrogant fools. I have watched you. You believe you know everything, yet there is so much you cannot understand. Is it truly so safe here?”

“Not if you keep talking like that, it isn’t,” Anders growled, cracking his knuckles.

Vani treated the Seeker to a scornful look. “If you think simply because you have large muscles that you have any chance against me, then you deceive yourself.”

“It sounds to me like you’re the cocky one,” Anders said. “Just because you’re some superspooky assassin type doesn’t mean you know every trick in the book. I worked security long before I became a Seeker, and I don’t need muscles to take out the likes of you. Go on, Deirdre. Tell her how I aced all those logic tests the Seekers gave me.”

Beltan interposed himself between the Seeker and the T’gol. He faced Anders. “I doubt I’d do very good on those tests, but my logic tells me you’d better back off if you want to keep your brain inside your skull.” He glared at Vani. “You, too. Do you think this is a good example for Nim?”

Vani’s scowl became a worried expression. “She is asleep.”

“Not anymore,” Travis said.

Nim was sitting up on the sofa, her gray eyes wide. “Are you going to hurt the bad man, Mother?”

Deirdre pushed herself from the chair, then knelt on the carpet next to the sofa. “Don’t be afraid, Nim. Anders isn’t a bad man.”

“Yes he is. That’s why Mother wants to hurt him.”

“No, he’s my partner, and he helped us get away from the monsters. Don’t you remember?”

Nim hesitated, then nodded.

“Anders and your mother are just a little tired, that’s all. We’re all tired.” Deirdre smiled, touching the girl’s chin. “You, too, I bet. Why don’t you go to sleep?”

Nim held her hands out before her. “No, I don’t want to sleep. I won’t see the gold men if my eyes are closed. They want to take me away from my mother because I’m a key. That’s what they tell me, only their mouths don’t move.”

“Hush, daughter,” Vani said, sitting on the arm of the sofa and stroking Nim’s dark hair. “There is no need to fear. You are safe here.”

“That’s right,” Deirdre said, doing her best to sound convincing. But they weresafe there. Underneath all the rich wood paneling, every door in the Charterhouse was made of tempered steel fitted with electronic locks. This parlor was like a bank vault. Nothing could pass the doors. Or the windows. “Show her, Anders.”

The Seeker moved to one of the windows. “See that little beam of green light here? That’s a laser. Look what happens if something gets in the way of that beam.” Anders stuck a finger in the path of the laser beam—then snatched his hand back just in time to keep it from getting smashed as a row of gleaming metal bars whooshed into place, covering the window.

Nim clapped her hands. “Again!”

After several more demonstrations of the automatic safety features of the windows and doors, Nim was finally content to lie down on the sofa. She yawned and stuck a finger in her mouth, and her breathing grew slow as her eyes drooped shut.

Deirdre would have liked to curl up herself, but there was too much to try to understand. They moved to the other side of the parlor and spoke in low voices so as not to disturb Nim. A sleepy-eyed butler brought coffee, and Deirdre helped Anders pour cups for all of them.

“It’s not fair,” he grumbled in a low voice as they stood at a sideboard, backs to the others. “I get the train rolling along, smash all the baddies, and somehow I’m still the bad man.”

“Don’t worry about Nim. She just doesn’t know you like I do. Remember, I didn’t exactly trust you at first, either.”

However, in the time since, Deirdre had learned that she could rely on Anders in any situation. In fact, she trusted Anders more than she had ever trusted Hadrian Farr. With Farr, she had always felt there was some deeper agenda she didn’t know about, that if he ever thought he needed to, he would abandon her in an instant. Then he had, and now she knew why. Somehow he had found a doorway to Eldh, and he had taken it, leaving her behind. She supposed she couldn’t blame him for that.

Only she did. Farr had found what they had always sought together, and he had gone on without her. Something told her Anders wouldn’t do the same—that if he found a portal to another world, he would hold the door open like a gentleman and let her go first.

“You trust me now, don’t you, mate?” he said, pouring cream.

She laid a hand on his broad shoulder, drawing closer. Anders wasn’t handsome, but damn if he didn’t always smell good. . . .

Stop it right now, Deirdre.

Her hand pulled back. She wasn’t certain when she realized she could fall in love with Anders if she let herself. It wasn’t at all like what she had felt for Farr when she first met him. Back then, she had been as infatuated with the idea of the Seekers as with Farr’s film noir good looks. It was hard to say which of them had seduced her.

With Anders, it was different. There had been so much to get through: her mistrust, the fact that he had worked security, and the realization that underneath that heavy Cro-Magnon brow lurked a sharp mind. Even then she probably wouldn’t have realized the truth if it hadn’t been for Sasha.

“Quit glowing,” Sasha had said to her one day.

“What?” Deirdre had said, utterly confused.

“I said quit glowing. You’re like a night-light.”

Deirdre was scandalized. “I don’t glow.”

“You do when you look at Anders,” Sasha had said with a wicked grin. “Grant you, we’ve all gotten rather attached to the big lug, and not simply because he makes heavenly coffee. But it’s best to keep one’s professional relationships from becoming unprofessional. And by that I mean personal. I know you agree, darling.”

Just to confuse things, which Sasha had a great fondness for, she gave Deirdre a warm kiss on the lips before sauntering away on her lanky supermodel legs.

Ever since then, Deirdre had been careful, and as far as she knew Anders didn’t suspect anything. Which was good. Deirdre valued him too much as a partner and a friend to ever do anything to jeopardize their relationship.

“Come on,” she said, leading the way as he carried a tray of coffee cups to a table in the corner. While Nim slept, the adults gathered around the table, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

“So it was me they came looking for,” Travis said, looking at Vani, “not you and Nim.” He touched the bandage on his arm and winced.

Vani circled her hands around her cup. “Yes, but it does not matter, for they have learned I brought Nim to Earth. There is nowhere I can take her now that will be safe from them.”

“But why do they want us?” Travis said, his gray eyes serious. For the first time Deirdre noticed that they were flecked with gold, just like Nim’s.

“You’re the one fated to raise Morindu,” Beltan said. “They must know that.”

“That is impossible,” Vani said, her visage darkening. “Besides the people in this room, and Grace Beckett and her closest companions on Eldh, only a few among the Mournish know this fact. I do not believe our closest friends have betrayed us to the Scirathi.”

“All the same,” Beltan said, using a cloth to wipe the edge of his sword, “they must know. And that means the Scirathi will come again.”

Deirdre cast a glance at the sofa where Nim lay. Something the girl had said echoed in her mind. “What did she mean?” She turned her gaze on Vani. “Nim said something about how the Scirathi wanted her because they think she’s a key. A key to what?”

Vani sighed, brushing her sleek hair from her brow. “I do not know what she means. A few times she has told me that the Scirathi have spoken to her. However, her story keeps changing. First she said they told her she was a precious jewel, then it was a little spider, and now it’s this—a key, she says. But I can only imagine she was dreaming. They have never gotten close enough to speak to her.”

“Haven’t they?” Travis said. “They were right outside her bedroom window tonight. Besides, you’ve forgotten how . . .” He cast a furtive glance at Beltan. “She’s not like other children, Vani. You know she’s not.”

Deirdre had heard the story: how the fairies had tricked Beltan and Vani, making each believe the other was Travis. While under the fairy spell, they had conceived Nim between them. Only it was more than that. Duratek had performed experiments on Beltan, infusing him with fairy blood. In a way, Nim was a fairy child. What that meant, Deirdre wasn’t sure, but the girl was certainly not a typical three-year-old.

Talk turned then to the matter of the stone arch—the gate– that had been discovered on the island of Crete. Vani was convinced it was a sign of Fate that the arch had been uncovered just when Travis needed to return to Eldh in order to fulfill his destiny.

“I don’t know if it’s Fate,” Travis said, gazing down at his hands. “But I’m willing to bet it’s not a coincidence that gate came to light on this world just when Morindu has been found on Eldh. There has to be a connection. Only what is it?”

Vani reached across the table, gripping his hands. “You are the connection, Travis Wilder. Don’t you see? The gate has come to light becauseMorindu has been found. It wants to take you there.”

He snatched his hands back. “What it if I don’t want to go?”

“You will go, because it is Fate.”

“I don’t have a fate,” Travis snapped, and Beltan cast him a worried look.

Vani seemed undisturbed. “Perhaps not. But my people do, and that fate is bound up with you. You will go to Morindu. We must go to this gate at once. Your blood will awaken it.”

“Blood,” Deirdre murmured, her mind humming. She glanced at the sofa and Nim’s sleeping form. “It’s what you and Nim have in common, Travis. That’s what connects you. Blood of power.”

Beltan cast a startled look at Nim. “A jewel, a spider, a key. Those things she said—all those words could be used to describe a scarab.”

“And the scarabs contain Orú’s blood.” Deirdre felt hot, a sheen of sweat breaking out on her skin. “That’s why the Scirathi want both of you. Either one of you could be used to open a gate.”

“Or perhaps open something else,” Vani said, her coppery face turning ashen. “Why did I not see it before?”

Anders refilled her empty coffee cup. “Sometimes it’s hard to see the truth when you’re too close to it.”

Deirdre had to agree with that. And there was one truth the others couldn’t see yet. “The gate on Crete won’t do you any good. You won’t be able to open it.”

Vani scowled at her. “Why is that?”

“Because the arch isn’t complete. The archaeologists won’t find the center keystone with it.”

“This is madness,” Vani said, clenching her hands into fists. “You only say this to keep Travis here. How can you know the keystone will not be found?”

“Because it’s in the vaults of the Philosophers.”

Deirdre couldn’t help feeling a little satisfied as they all stared at her. It was good to be the one with the astonishing revelation for a change.

“You remember the Philosopher who was helping me?”

Anders cocked his head. “He hasn’t contacted you again, has he, partner?”

Deirdre thought of the message on her computer screen, just before Travis had called. “Actually, I think maybe he has. But he first helped me to learn about the keystone over three years ago.”

It had been almost that long since she had gone over her notes on the case, but it didn’t matter; she remembered every detail of the mystery as if she had just uncovered it. Anders knew all of this already—she had vowed not to keep any secrets from him, and she had kept that promise—but to the others it would all be new.