“Look,” Merlin continued, a hint of irritation coloring his voice once more, “if I told you who was responsible you wouldn’t believe me. If you want to find him, you’ll have to do it on your own. The only way to stop him, I think, is by finding him for yourselves and persuading him, coming to some understanding. He needs the money for what he’s trying to achieve. He’ll need to get it. Or at the very least, a large slice of it.”
“That’s going to take some negotiating,” Michael said dryly.
“Understand that I, for one, agree with what he’s trying to achieve,” Merlin said sharply. “I have some sympathy for him. And that’s just when it comes to the initial goal. The deeper one I don’t think you’re ready to know about right now.
“Find him. He can be talked to, but you need to know how he thinks. There won’t be any substitute for finding out yourselves. Trust me, when you find him you’ll know what I mean.”
“Is this like reading a story, a mystery, and not wanting to know the ending in advance?” Kristen said uncertainly, leaning forward to enter the debate.
The spirit beamed at her. “Almost exactly so,” he said. “He will need to see that you feel as you should when you confront a wonder.
“Have you ever seen the Pyramids, Serrin?”
The question came from the blue. The mage stared back at the spirit, keeping steady eye contact.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I have.”
“What did you feel when you first saw them?”
“Wonder,” the mage said simply.
“The Pyramids are the most accurate stone buildings ever made,” Merlin told him. “Forget all the half-witted theories about why they were built. They were built to connect people to heaven, and to remind people forever of wonder. There is a saying, I believe”-the spirit smiled slightly-“ ‘Man fears time, but time itself fears the Pyramids’.”
Kristen had only ever seen the colossal, mighty Wonder of the World on a scratched postcard, but the proverb made her spine tingle, though she didn’t know why. Maybe it was the way the spirit spoke, maybe it was the element of eternity in the words. Unconsciously she began rubbing one arm with the other hand.
“Be prepared to wonder, Serrin, I haven’t mentioned the Pyramids for nothing. But I’ll let that pass for now. What did you learn abroad?”
Michael looked uncertainly at the mage, but Serrin wasn’t in any mood to conceal anything.
“Not a great deal, I’m afraid,” he said sadly, and began to recount the events of the previous night.
The spirit looked disappointed, but Senin didn’t have anything more to tell him.
“I’m sorry about Gianfranco,” Merlin said, “though I knew him only very slightly. Did he say anything before he died?”
“I wasn’t there,” Serrin said. “I was out for the count. Unconscious. Geraint?” he yelled toward the kitchen. Within moments the Welshman appeared in the doorway.
“Gianfranco. You were with him when he died.”
“I certainly was.” Geraint shuddered at the memory.
“Did he say anything?”
“Famous last words? No, he was asleep at the time.”
“Nothing? There must have been something,” Serrin insisted.
“I’d given him drugs for the pain. Hang it, the man’s leg was shattered.”
That touched a chord in the elf. He could all too easily imagine what it must have been like for the man. “Oh, well.” Serrin sounded resigned.
Geraint rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Wait, there was something,” he said. “Something that didn’t make any sense at all. I thought at the time he was rambling because of the drugs… he passed out just after he said it. Oh, frag, what was it?
“Something about a statue. A statue.” Again he saw the statue of Joan of Arc lying, so impossibly perfect, among the smashed ruins of the chapel, and then he remembered.
“A statue in a city. There’s just one statue in a city, that’s what he said. No, I don’t know what it means and I didn’t have a chance to ask him.” He waved away Serrin’s puzzled look. “I couldn’t make head or tail of it.”
“Then you have all you need,” Merlin said, getting to his feet. “There’s nothing more I need say. You have your quarry and you will know where to look. He’s moved on by now, I suspect, but you won’t be far from him if you go to the obvious place. Besides, I believe you had no plans to stay here.”
“We certainly didn’t,” Michael told him.
“I don’t understand,” Geraint said.
“You will,” Merlin said. “If it takes you more than half an hour I shall be very surprised. Well, I hope we shall meet again some time in the none-too-distant future I can see myself out.” He stood smoothly and made for the door.
“That’s it?” Michael said.
“That’s it,” Merlin toid him. “I’ve seen all those notes you’ve got. If you can’t learn what you need from them, you’ll really disappoint me, and I have faith in people. I know you won’t let me down.”
He was grinning broadly as he opened the door and departed. The others looked at each other, bewildered.
“Statues,” Michael said. Geraint told him about the statue at the chapel.
“Yes, we’ve seen it,” Michael said, digging out the picture he and Serrin had found from among the piles of paper. “Is this the one?”
“That’s her,” Geraint said.
“He can’t mean this,” Serrin said.
“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Michael said. “Time for a fishing expedition.” He made for his portable cyberdeck.
“I’m afraid not,” Geraint said, putting a hand on his companion’s arm. “We had a once-over done on you when we arrived, when you were still flat out. Absolutely none of that for twenty-four hours. It would be dangerous with you still somewhat concussed, and no more than an hour a day for a week afterward.”
“Drek,” Michael groaned. How am I supposed to earn a living?”
“Use a laptop like everyone else.”
“Oh, sure,” Michael said between gritted teeth, unclipping the lid of his laptop instead. “Back to steam-powered technology, slow everything down, I hate this.
“He said we needed only half an hour.” Geraint smiled at his friend’s impatience.
“Yes, but that bastard already knows the answer. Me, it’s going to take weeks.”
Michael was wrong. It took him seventeen minutes.
18
“Oh, of course,” Michael groaned as the answer came op on the screen. “I should have gone to this first. I’m obviously more concussed than I thought. Never mind the NOJ and the Priory and Joan of Arc and everything else I’ve tried.” He turned the screen around to face the eagerly expectant faces opposite him.
Leonardo da Vinci, declared the global dictionary header. The subhead read simply, Statuary works.
“Here we go: ‘Leonardo’s best-known statue is the Sforza Monument, commissioned after lengthy discussion by the Duke of Milan in 1489,’ ” Geraint read aloud. He was ostensibly doing this for the benefit of Streak, lounging on a sofa with his second gin, but not knowing how Kristen’s literacy lessons were coming, he thought it would also prevent her any embarrassment.
“Unfortunately it was destroyed by the French in 1494,” he continued, summarizing the next paragraph.
“Wouldn’t you just know it? Bloody French.”
“Somehow I don’t think this is it,” Serrin fretted, then scrolled the screen down. “Ah, but this-”
“Lady with Primroses,” Geraint read. “Erm, ascribed to Andrea del Verocchio, circa 1475. In the Baptistery, Florence. having been relocated from the Museo del Bargello in 2048. Suggestions that Leonardo assisted his master with this work were confirmed by the discovery of working sketches and notes in a fragment of a Leonardo codex discovered in 2037 in the papers of a member of the Savoy family. Currently and for the last 150 years or more this work has been regarded as the only surviving statuary by Leonardo.
“So that’s it,” Geraint peered at the image that formed on the screen.
Not much to look at, is it?” said Streak from over his shoulder. Curiosity had got him up to see what was going on. “Wouldn’t have thought he was a genius from that.”
“The hands,” Geraint mused. “Look at the hands. That’s remarkable work.”