‘It hit me the instant the elevator doors opened,’ Krys began. ‘I mean before I even took my first step into the caves. You and Simeon and the staffer – what was her name?’

  ‘Edna Koch.’

  ‘Right. You were all focused on the guy at the desk. So you didn’t notice. But the sensation …’

  ‘Rocked your world.’

  ‘It grabbed me. I knew I could fight it. But I didn’t want to.’

  ‘Have you ever felt anything like this before? I mean, you’re a Talent—’

  ‘Jackson, OK, let’s get this out in the open. I have had no training. I have hidden these abilities my entire life.’ She puffed hard over the words. ‘It was either that or … You can’t imagine …’

  ‘Take it easy. Big breath. Just tell me what happened in that vault. The rest can wait. Your secrets are your own. All I want to know is if other Talents feel this when they connect with an item.’

  His tone probably had as much effect as his words. Krys calmed and went on, ‘I have no idea. But I’ve never experienced or read anything about an inanimate object affecting a Talent like that.’

  ‘Good. Thank you.’ Jackson kept his tone steady, but the word she had just used left him reeling inside. Talent. He had been married to a highly trained practitioner of the healing arts. He had seen her move through a field of flowers, searching for the hidden treasure, the magical herb. And he had never, not once, felt a thing.

  Talent.

  Krys went on, ‘Like I said, Simeon and Edna handled the guy on desk duty. Then one of you asked how we could possibly find what we need, and I heard it all, but mostly I was focused on this … I still don’t know what to call it.’

  Jackson had been mulling over the same issue. He suggested, ‘An event.’

  The term had special importance for Interpol field agents. It hearkened back to their training days, when their instructors continually referred to the questionable event. Interpol maintained a catalog of every official Talent residing in their district, with a precise description of their abilities. As long as these Talents operated within the laws of their country, they were granted special status. But the instant a Talent was linked to a questionable event, they simply became suspects. From that moment on, their abilities were viewed like any other lethal weapon in the hands of a potential criminal.

  To refer to what they had experienced as events meant Jackson was uncertain what they signified. But he knew they were potentially explosive. Good or bad. It could go either way.

  ‘I like that,’ Krys decided. ‘OK. So the event already dominated my awareness before I crossed the foyer. It felt … good, really. I knew I could cut it off. But I didn’t want to.’

  ‘So you started walking forward,’ Jackson recalled. ‘In front of us. Before we had figured out how to proceed. You were already moving.’

  ‘Right. And then those articles started zapping me.’

  ‘I was watching,’ Jackson said. ‘At first I couldn’t decide whether the sparks originated from you or those things on the shelves.’

  ‘Them. Definitely.’

  ‘So we started taking the items,’ Jackson said. ‘Assuming they had significance. That we had shown up just for them. That they were the end result. But all the while …’

  ‘I kept being drawn forward. I wasn’t in any real hurry. I just knew I wasn’t leaving the place until I got it. Whatever it was.’

  ‘Describe finding it.’

  Krys smiled, a gentle recollection of a special moment. Her voice was almost dreamlike. The compressed tightness to her lovely features was erased. ‘It was on the top shelf in the last cavern but one. I waited until Edna had gone back with the next article I’d identified. The feeling at this point was … I don’t know how to describe it. Tight. There wasn’t room for anything else. You were off in that side room, and she was gone, so I reached up and touched it. That very instant, it …’

  Jackson softly pressed, ‘Tell me.’

  ‘It was mine. Not like I claimed it. Like it had been mine forever. And I knew that it was very important I kept all that secret.’

  ‘Then you came to find me.’

  ‘Right. The staffer came back, and I knew she expected me to keep on. I figured why not, even though I had what I’d come for. But I realized you weren’t with us, and that bothered me, so I called, and you answered.’

  ‘There weren’t any sparks in my cave,’ Jackson recalled.

  ‘I wondered about that. You know, a sort of idle interest. I thought maybe because I’d located the artifact, that ability or whatever was over and done. Then Edna and I went to the last caverns, and I got two more sparks.’

  Jackson sorted through everything he was hearing and remembering, and asked, ‘Why are you telling me …’

  ‘Why now and not before? Right.’ Krys showed him round-eyed candor. ‘Last night I dialed your number – twice. But I couldn’t … I don’t know how to describe what it felt like. A wall. A brake. But it wasn’t unpleasant.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘This morning, though, soon as I got into the car, that wall or whatever was gone. Poof. Like it had never been there. I was so scared. I hadn’t been the least bit worried until then. I wanted to tell you because you needed to know. Until that moment I hadn’t even thought about what I’d done from the legal perspective. It just didn’t matter. Not at all. I know that sounds crazy. But that is exactly—’

  ‘Krys, I read you.’ Jackson scanned his own interior and found the barrier was still gone. He waited through a long moment. Studying her. She knew what was coming next. He wanted her to know it was her decision. ‘Will you show me?’

  ‘Yes.’ But she did not move. ‘Will you tell me what happened to you?’

  ‘Of course I will. But let’s take this one step at a time, all right? First, you show me. Then I’ll tell you everything.’

  She remained exactly as she was. Turned in her seat so she faced him. Hands in her lap. Still. Frozen. ‘Are we in trouble?’

  Jackson rocked his hand back and forth. ‘Not at the moment. OK, yes, we have broken Swiss law. Not to mention Interpol regs. But there is something at work here.’

  ‘Jackson, if we don’t tell … There’s no going back.’

  ‘Right. Probably not.’

  ‘Wait … Probably? You mean there’s an out?’

  ‘We insert this into our secret report. The one that is eyes-only for Meyer and Barker. How we both felt the same draw, the same obstacles to revealing what we had found, the same sense of safety. We use the report as an official but secret register.’

  She asked, ‘You felt it, too?’

  ‘Krys, everything you described was the same for me. With a couple of extra added attractions. But let’s finish with your event first. Just one last question. Before you picked up your article, did you see or sense anything … you know, different?’

  ‘I was hurrying. I could hear Edna’s approach. And the draw was so intense. But no. Nothing else.’ She looked at him. ‘What happens if … you know, the sense of safety and goodness and all …’

  ‘Is a lie.’ Jackson nodded. He’d been thinking the same thing.

  ‘Right. What then?’

  Jackson found it good to have a reason to smile. ‘Then I guess the last thing we’ll need to worry about is breaking Interpol regs.’

  Krys smiled back. It was a different look from any she had shown him up to that point. Jackson realized she was excited about sharing this with him. Seated by a forest harboring some of Europe’s darkest legends, in a car bought with money from some unknown source, drawn together by events that were sweeping them along. Faster and faster. Jackson knew Krys had only touched the surface of her secrets. He also knew it didn’t really matter whether they informed the authorities about these semi-stolen articles. He was convinced at gut level that the turning had already been taken. Whatever happened, there was no going back. But just then, it did not matter nearly as much as the new level of openness in her gaze, and what he realized it meant.

  She trusted him.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Krys reached into her pocket and drew out …

  A baby’s bracelet.

  That was Jackson’s first impression. The opening was about three inches wide. A full-grown woman with slender hands could have worn it on her wrist. But Jackson doubted any fashion-conscious lady would be interested. The bracelet was a bland gold in color, as if it had been fashioned from cheap plastic. Where the sunlight touched the surface, there was nothing to see. No adornment, no polish, no carvings. ‘Is it heavy?’

  ‘An ounce, two at the most, I’d say.’ She started to hand it over, then jerked back. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘The barrier?’

  ‘I slept with it in my hand. Woke up twice in sheer terror when it slipped out.’ She looked from the bracelet to him and back. ‘I don’t get it. I can show you, but you can’t touch it.’

  Jackson said, ‘I had a terrible nightmare when I dropped my article.’

  ‘Do you feel anything now?’

  ‘A definite rightness over how we’re talking about it. I feel like it’s waiting for me to do something. You?’

  ‘Pretty much the same.’ She sighed. ‘Times like this, I really hate my ignorance about all things magic.’

  Jackson studied her artifact a moment longer.

  Krys asked, ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘I was wondering whether we got hooked into this because we were the first people who walked in there.’

  ‘That doesn’t work,’ she replied. ‘Edna didn’t feel a thing, remember?’

  ‘They entered the foyer only. I doubt anybody has gotten past that duty desk for years. Longer.’

  But Krys remained certain. ‘I was drawn to it before I left the elevator.’

  Jackson nodded. He knew Krys was right. But the result was a pair of questions that troubled him more than the article itself.

  First, why were they selected?

  And second, how was he connected? A guy with not a shred of magical abilities. Sitting there with a secret burning a hole in his life.

  Krys asked softly, ‘Will you tell me what happened?’

  Jackson tasted the air, as he had so often before. This time, the invisible barrier was gone. He started the car, pulled back on to the road, and said, ‘I’ll tell you everything.’

  Jackson talked as he drove. He found it easier to focus on the road and let the memories rise without needing to watch Krys’s reaction. This became even more useful when he reached the point of the confrontation with Riyanna. The only hesitation came over trying to describe the sense of Riyanna working her spells, striving to force him to murder Luca Tami. Feeling exposed even while protected. And his inability to speak of it. Until now.

  They entered Strasbourg, passed through the modern perimeter, crossed the bridge to the central island, and parked on the avenue fronting Roger Valente’s gallery. Jackson cut the motor and sat. The clock read a quarter past the standard French closing time of six o’clock. He made no move to rush Krys, however. He was certain this conversation was far more important than the original reason for their journey.

  Krys shifted in her seat. ‘Two things. First, the little people.’

  ‘I understand. But they weren’t people.’ He shut his eyes and instantly was back in the cavern, filled with the magnetic draw that had brought him to the artifact. ‘I have no idea what I saw. But their size … The tallest stood maybe three feet high. But it wasn’t just their height. They were not human. The totality was … alien.’

  ‘That’s what I thought when you described the caverns’ illumination. Not human.’

  ‘The light flowed from every surface. Almost like music.’ He had said all this before. But he liked being able to help her absorb the events through repeating. He also enjoyed the recollections. ‘There were patterns within patterns. The wave designs carved into the stone suddenly made sense. I had the feeling that the lights were communication of some kind. And more. It felt …’

  She waited him out.

  ‘They were bonded,’ Jackson said. ‘With the lights. And the caves. And each other. All of it.’

  ‘So … my bracelet could have been made for them.’

  He nodded. ‘I thought of that.’

  ‘And then one of the little people climbed the wall next to where you stood, crawled into the one empty shelf, and …’

  ‘He opened the stone.’

  Krys asked, ‘Do you think he meant to show you how? Which, of course, means he was somehow aware of you …’

  ‘Standing there, a few thousand years after his little dance.’ Jackson also liked finishing her impossible thoughts. This level of sharing helped him digest as well. ‘I have no idea. Maybe the real message was to go ahead and jump off the cliff into the bed of snakes.’

  ‘Doubtful, given how you felt it could have protected you from that woman.’

  ‘Riyanna.’ The light-filled memory was instantly erased. ‘It was an absolute certainty. Like I had been brought to that place to find the artifact that would shield me from her.’

  ‘Which brings us to the second point. Riyanna’s lure was that strong?’

  ‘Lure isn’t the right word for what happened. She commanded. I came.’

  Krys frowned at the passing pedestrians. ‘And then a second wizard showed up. They argued over killing you. And you escaped.’

  Once again, Jackson was filled with the panic-fear of facing his doom. ‘The guy was looking for somebody. That’s why he showed up.’

  ‘You didn’t mention that before.’

  ‘I only remembered it now.’ He could hear his own tight breaths, the rise of fear. ‘He dug into my head. Just brutal the way he hunted. Found out I was with Interpol. Told her to kill me. They argued. While her attention was on the guy, I escaped.’

  She gave him a moment to recover, then continued, ‘You’ve got the artifact now?’

  ‘Every moment since waking. Even in the shower.’

  She leaned in close. ‘Will you show me?’

  Jackson pulled the article from his breast pocket and held it out.

  She leaned in close, studied it intently, and said, ‘A block of wood.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Old wood.’

  ‘Right again.’

  The article was about five inches long and a little over an inch and a half thick. Like the bracelet, there was not a single sharp edge. The dark object was not exactly round, more of an oblong shape. It fit comfortably into his fist.

  Krys asked, ‘How does it feel?’

  ‘Not wood or stone or glass. But a little like all of them.’

  ‘Is it heavy?’

  ‘About the same as yours.’

  ‘So maybe it’s petrified wood.’

  ‘I thought about that.’ Jackson gave her time to inspect it further, then slipped it back into his pocket. ‘The artifact Luca told me to use in our meeting with Valente. It’s as bland and uninteresting as our two items.’

  ‘You think they’re linked?’

  ‘No. Well, not like you mean.’

  Krys nodded. ‘We’re not seeing the real significance.’

  ‘That’s it, exactly,’ Jackson said. He glanced at the gallery across the street. ‘I think it’s time to focus on why we came.’

  Krys drew back. ‘OK, so what now?’

  ‘I met Roger Valente on a case I was working on about a year after I started with Interpol. Five tourists in Athens had been murdered. At first, the local authorities declared it was poisoning. They wanted to put it down to bad food and make it all go away. I proved it had a magical connection and traced the poisonous artifact back to Valente’s shop. Valente dealt with legitimate items in the front room, but he also served as an agent for unlicensed magic. Same as today, only now he operates at a much higher level.’

  ‘Is he a Talent?’

  ‘Definitely not. And that was one of the reasons I cut him a break. He had no idea what the article he had sold could actually do. He had acquired it without knowing it originated from a user of the dark arts. Roger has been a solid asset ever since.’ Jackson stared across the street. ‘The problem is, I’m not coming to him as an Interpol agent. I’m not officially seeking his cooperation.’

  ‘You don’t know how much help he’s going to be.’

  ‘Right. We need to assume everything from this point on carries a potential threat.’

  Strasbourg was one of a dozen or so European regions that liked to claim they were the original settlement of the Ancients. Twenty-two centuries earlier, the Romans under Nero had destroyed a powerful community of Druid wizards and then established the headquarters of the Germania legion on what was now the Grand Isle. The city that grew around the military fortress was known originally as Argentinia. When the Romans withdrew four hundred years later, the city was first ruled by the Alemanni tribe, then the Huns, before finally becoming a provincial outpost of the Franks. The first official document showing the current name of Strasbourg was the license granting it the status of a Free Imperial City in the thirteenth century.

  Roger Valente’s gallery was located on Rue des Hallebardes, one of the original Roman avenues that traversed the central island. The shop owner had used his considerable fortune to reinvent his past. Nowadays Valente liked to present himself as the last of a long line of Phoenician traders who had spread across Europe serving the Roman garrisons. In fact, Jackson knew that Valente had been born in the slums of Lyon and had used the French armed forces as his ticket out. He had served for nine years with the Paratroopers, the French equivalent of America’s Delta Force. He was a waifish man with effeminate ways. He used a hair oil that smelled of lilies. He spoke English with a musical lilt. Rumors abounded over how Valente had amassed the funds required to establish his gallery. Jackson had always assumed the most venomous stories probably came closest to the truth.

  Since moving from Greece back to France, Roger had run a legitimate business dealing in high-end art. Very expensive. Very cutting edge. And all containing some elements of magic.

  Roger’s shop only represented Talents. In most cases, these artists refused to divulge their identities. Institute training took a dozen very intense years. Young Acolytes were indoctrinated with the Institutes’ worldview and values. Art was considered a pedestrian sort of hobby, something best left to those born without the real gift. Talents who were also artists hid behind galleries who could be trusted never to divulge their true names.

 

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