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Landvik’s face hardened. “Ragnar lost the true faith. He was fascinated by Christianity, and foolishly believed that to worship both the true gods and the Christian gods would give him even more power. In fact, his apostasy cost him everything.”

“By true gods,” Rose said, “I assume you mean the old Norse gods.”

“Old maybe, but no less powerful. In fact, only more powerful for their age. Except that only a true believer can harness the power of the hammer.”

Rose let her eyebrows rise. “And Ragnar, tempted by the Christian faith, wasn’t a true believer?”

Landvik raised both palms. “Just so. But I am a true believer.”

He fell silent, turned back to face the front as the car left the mainland behind and started to travel slowly along the causeway.

“True nutcase, more like,” Rose muttered. In a louder voice, she asked, “So why are you keeping me with you now, if I’ve already told you where to find the hammer?”

Landvik didn’t turn around, watching the priory ruins grow nearer. The tourist traffic, both in cars and on foot, was heavy. Rose wondered how easily they might haul her around with her hands bound up in the scattered crowds. Maybe she could scream for help, make a scene to get away. But her curiosity burned. “Why keep me?” she asked again.

Landvik sighed. “You told us one word. Lindisfarne. So that is where we are. But we might need to extract a more specific memory from you yet, if we can’t find out why you brought us here. So we’ll start at the priory and begin our search. I suggest you do all you can to remember any details that might be lodged in your mind, or we will have to conduct the ritual again. For your sake, you had better hope it does not come to that.”

Chapter 42

Lindisfarne

Crowley tried to relax in the passenger seat of the Land Rover Discovery while Cameron drove, but it wasn’t easy. His brain roiled with worries, concerns that they would be too late for Rose. And that only made him wonder just what it was they might be too late for. What the hell did these people want with her anyway? For all his techniques, the politician, Nilsson, hadn’t been all that forthcoming. It quickly became apparent the man actually knew very little and was going to be hardly any use at all. But he’d given them one piece of information that had to be useful, because it was all they had. Lindisfarne.

Whatever Landvik wanted, apparently he believed he would find it on the Holy Island, and Crowley had to believe the man would keep Rose alive until then. So he prayed to gods he didn’t really believe in that he and Cameron wouldn’t be late.

“Lot of tourists.” Cameron nodded ahead at the line of cars under the gloomy skies.

Traffic had been heavy all the way through from the airport, the typical English jams repeatedly slowing them down. Now a single line of vehicles snaked ahead and off over the long causeway leading to Lindisfarne Island.

Crowley scowled. “Might be quicker to leave the car and jog across!”

“Might be, but it’s certainly not safer. The cars are crawling, but they’re moving. We’ll get there.” Cameron’s voice still had that edge of excitement Crowley had noticed before.

“Even slow moving traffic is more fun than sitting behind a computer, eh?”

Cameron flicked a half grin over, then turned his attention back to the car in front. “You’d be surprised how full on the intel game can be, even from a desk. And it’s not all staring at a screen, although there is so much data crunching involved. But yeah, getting out into the field properly again is pretty good fun. I’ve pulled a few days leave though, so I won’t be able to stay out long.”

Crowley grimaced, nodded ahead. “Let’s hope this is the end of the line and it all finishes here, today.”

“Here’s hoping. But I also hope there’s not too much action. Only two of us, so we’ll probably be outnumbered. I’d really prefer not to be killed.”

Crowley laughed. “Me too. But it’s the nearly being killed thing that’s so thrilling, right?”

Cameron flicked him another look, a little less amused this time.

Crowley waved one hand dismissively. “Seriously, though, I like our chances here.”

“Really? Based on what?”

“No one’s managed to do us in yet, have they?”

Cameron blew air out through tight lips. “Dude, everyone’s lucky until their luck runs out. That’s how it works.” He nodded ahead again. “Check it out.”

Crowley looked out to see a large white sign beside the road.

DANGER

HOLY ISLAND CAUSEWAY

It warned them to pay attention to the tide tables and safe crossing signs ahead. They passed another sign, bright red this time, with a picture of a large car half drowned by the incoming tide.

WARNING

THIS COULD BE YOU

PLEASE CONSULT TIDE TABLES

“Don’t muck around with their signage, do they!” Crowley said with a laugh.

Cameron nodded. “Yeah, but look how low the causeway sits. The water would cover it very quickly when the tide comes in. Can you imagine how many idiot tourists mess it up and get stranded every year? I read a thing that listed the costs of airlifting and sea rescues that happen regularly. Pretty crazy sums of cash.”

“No accounting for fools.”

“But we’re good for now. I checked earlier and we’ve got a while before the next tide comes in.”

They followed the slow-moving line of cars out onto the causeway, mudflats glistening on either side as the sun found occasional breaks in the pall above. Halfway down the mile-long causeway, a light drizzle spattered the windshield, despite the glimpses of sunshine and slices of blue sky.

Crowley looked to the north and saw a heavier bank of darker cloud that way. “Typical English weather,” he muttered.

“Four seasons in one day?” Cameron asked.

“Four seasons in one place! That looks like some big rain coming in.”

“Yeah, depends on the wind though. It is forecast to get heavier.”

Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “You checked that too?”

Cameron laughed. “Of course! Information is my business.”

“Even the weather?”

“Even the weather.”

The road began to wind along the edge of the island peninsula, grasslands off to their left. As they made their way into the small area of houses, Crowley said, “Not many people living here.”

“Only a couple of hundred or so, but it’s packed with tourists most of the time. Today is no exception, despite the rain.”

People walked everywhere, many strolling obliviously into the road causing cars to beep and brake. The tourists ignored the persistent drizzle, happily rambling around in brightly-colored raincoats or under wide umbrellas.

As they drove slowly into the small town, Cameron said, “It’ll be hard to spot Rose or Landvik in these crowds. We could walk right past each other and not notice.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think they’ll be taking in the sights. I’ve been looking through all the relevant information we’ve found, trying to figure out just what it is this Landvik is after. And honestly, I still don’t really have a clue. But as we’ve been led all the way to Lindisfarne, I can’t see them heading for any other place than the priory or the castle. I reckon we start with the priory. It stands on the spot of a seventh century Anglo Saxon monastery, but was attacked by Vikings in 793. Given all Landvik’s return of the Viking gods stuff, I figure we at least start there.” He pointed up the road ahead. “That way.”

Chapter 43

Lindisfarne Priory, Holy Island, Berwick-upon-Tweed