"Robbie disappeared while I was on a business trip to Ghana. When I got back and found him gone, I believed Morrighan when she said he had given up on the game. I was devastated that he had simply left without saying good-bye, but it fit. Robbie has a history of taking off without leaving word if things didn't work out for him. Even his father acknowledged that. So I accepted Morrighan's explanation without question."
"So what really happened?"
For a few moments she was silent.
When she spoke again her voice was hardly audible. "Morrighan decided to take Robbie into the portal of the memory palace. That should never have happened. Robbie was still an initiate of the first level, Air. He was still studying only the preliminary secrets. He was not yet a zelator. Only zelators are permitted to approach the Fire. By taking him into the portal, Morrighan broke the rules. For Robbie, it was catastrophic. Entering the portal led to a massive overload of data. His brain crashed."
"He had a stroke."
"It seems likely."
"But that's not what killed him."
"Oh, God." Her fingers gripped the sheet so tight, the knuckles stood out white.
"He drowned. Why was he in the pool?"
"Robbie loved water. We discovered his mind was at its most receptive when he was swimming. Especially at night. I don't know why-something about the rhythm of the exercise, the dark water-whatever it was, it was conducive to the interfacing of his mind with Morrighan's."
"So she interfaced with him while he was swimming. Overloaded his brain. But I still don't understand why she had to drown him, for God's sake. He was still alive."
"The overload wasn't deliberate, Gabriel, I'm sure of it. Morrighan didn't want to hurt Robbie, but she miscalculated. She pushed too hard. And when Robbie suffered the stroke, she was petrified that I would find out and terminate the game."
"Are you saying she deliberately drowned that boy to keep his stroke a secret from you? So you wouldn't stop building the palace?"
"Yes."
"And the body?"
"She buried it. She won't tell me where."
He stared at her in horror. "When did she tell you all this?"
"Earlier today. When she was drunk."
"I've never seen Morrighan drink more than a single glass of wine."
"A single glass of wine with a little bit of added something can pack a punch. And Morrighan isn't the only one who can mix a potion, you know."
For a moment Gabriel was quiet. Then he leaned over and switched on the table lamp. He wanted to see her expression clearly.
"The two of you gave me a potion the night of your birthday, I know that."
She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Morrighan insisted on it. You see, she found the missing photograph of Robbie when she snooped around in your apartment. Around the same time, we also discovered you had hacked into our computer. When Morrighan found the picture she was extremely upset. I couldn't quite understand why, but now it makes sense: she was worried that you were suspicious about Robbie's death. She wanted to know what you were up to. She had tried to scan you before, but you always managed to block, so the potion was necessary to get past your defenses. I now realize she wanted to find out exactly how much you knew about Robbie's murder. As for me, I simply wanted to know why you were interested in the diary."
He looked at her profile: a cameo of the greatest delicacy. "It was your diary that made me fall in love with you."
She smiled, kissed the palm of his hand. "Yes."
"My recollection of the night of your birthday is rather… jumbled. Did we actually…" He paused, feeling suddenly foolish. "You know, did we make love? And, was Morrighan involved as well?" The words came out in a rush.
She blushed. He could see the red creeping up her neck.
"Gabriel-"
The phone rang stridently, the jangling sound making his nerves jump. He picked up the receiver.
"Let me talk to Minnaloushe."
The voice was cool as silk. Morrighan. In his mind's eye, Gabriel saw the beautiful heart-shaped face. The blue black hair. Azure eyes.
"Morrighan-"
"Just do it, Gabriel. Let me talk to my sister."
Without another word, he gave the receiver to Minnaloushe, who was already reaching for it.
The conversation was short. On Minnaloushe's side it consisted of a five words only. "Yes." A few moments of silence. "I'll be there soon."
She replaced the receiver slowly. "I have to go."
"No." He pushed himself upright, alarmed. "It's not safe for you."
"Gabriel, I can't hide. And remember, I'm immune to a mind attack."
He relaxed a little. That was true, he supposed. There was no way the architect of the memory palace could be in danger of an information overload herself. But still…
"Morrighan says she wants to talk."
"Talk?" His voice rose. "There's nothing to talk about. She's a killer. She killed three people-one of them my closest friend. She needs to be brought to justice."
"And how do you plan on doing that? Turn her over to the police? Do you really think they're going to believe all this stuff about memory palaces and information transfer? And where is Robbie's body buried? Forget about justice, Gabriel. All I'm interested in is getting Morrighan to stop the mind attacks against you. And I don't want her to recruit someone else to play with. She's already talking about looking for someone new." Minnaloushe paused. The expression in her eyes was despairing. "She thinks this is why she was blessed with remote viewing powers. That God wants her to introduce gnostic disciples to the palace through mind-to-mind transfer. She's obsessed."
"And what if she doesn't want to listen to reason?"
"She has to. Otherwise…"
"Otherwise, what?"
"Nothing." She shook her head and slid out of the bed, the sheets falling away from her. "The fact that she wants to talk is a positive sign."
He watched as she picked up her clothes from the floor and pulled her black sweater over her head, shaking her hair loose. Despite the jeans and the pullover, she looked more than ever as though she had stepped from a Pre-Raphaelite painting. A pale-skinned, fiery-haired heroine from a Rossetti narrative. Mysterious. Powerful. Deeply sensual.
She reached into the pocket of her jeans. "I wanted to return this. Here, it belongs to you."
It was the locket, cool against his palm.
"When we gave it to you, you said you would treasure it always. Remember?"
"I remember." He noticed the silver linked chain was still broken where he had torn it off his neck the day after her birthday. The day everything started going wrong.
A feeling of dread took hold of him. "Don't go, Minnaloushe. She's dangerous.".
"She can't hurt me."
"I don't care what you say. I don't trust her."
"Morrighan is sick, Gabriel, but how can I hate her? And you and she are so alike. Your remote viewing powers make you both so incredibly special. I look at the two of you and I see the future."
"Stay with me. Please, please stay with me."
"Shh." She leaned forward and placed her lips against his. For a moment he resisted, then he lifted his arms and placed them around her shoulders. He wanted this moment to last forever, with the soft, heavy weight of her body in his arms. But even as he kissed her, Gabriel felt lonely.
He pulled away and placed a hand on either side of her head, looking into her long-lidded eyes. What lay behind those eyes? Sensations and images and worlds he could only guess at. He loved her. He had read her diary and had immersed himself in her most private thoughts. But even if he lived with her until the day of his death, she would remain an enigma. Ultimately unknowable. Her adventures of the mind too vast for him to share.
"Take care of yourself."
"I will." She nodded. "Stay by the phone."
His eyes followed her as she walked to the door.
"Minnaloushe."