“Marina, I’m not going to walk around in here unarmed.”
“Then it appears you’re not going to walk around in here at all. I’m going to go on.”
She started to walk through the screen, but he pulled her back. “Wait a minute—“
“Your gun didn’t help you when we were attacked at the hotel, anyway. It’s not a lifeline. We’ve only got another hour anyway before we need to report in to Bergstrom. I’ll just take a quick look and then we can leave.”
“Wait.” Marina watched while he jogged back silently to the room where they’d changed.
But once he walked through the security screen, Gabe allowed her to set the pace, and as the door slid closed behind them, she chose their path: to the left, into the side of the building opposite the glass windows. The corridor was short, the walls the same white, sloping into the same rounded ceiling. Marina realized how easily they could become confused in the endless, identical hallways, and she stopped.
“I’m going to mark this. The last thing we need is to get lost in here somewhere.” She dug in her jeans and pulled out a plastic tube of lipstick. It was warm from being in there, which meant it would be soft, so she took care when she made a small little dab on the base of one of the walls.
Gabe watched incredulously as she made sure the mark shifted into a sort of point, so they knew which way to go.
“What, you never saw a woman with lipstick in her pocket before?”
“I didn’t figure you for a lipstick kind of woman.”
“I don’t go many places without it. You never know when you’re going to need it.” She stuffed the tube back into her front pocket. “My expertise.”
“I suppose that’s what you use to mark your trails when you’re caving,” he commented as she continued their walk down the hall.
“No, you don’t mark your trail when caving. That would be defacing the cave. You have to use a map and or look behind you as you’re making your way through.”
She didn’t hear his response clearly; but it sounded suspiciously like a snort of disgust. She ignored it and hurried on down the short hall.
As they came around a corner, Marina nearly ran into a wall. Or, rather, when she looked closer, she realized it was another door. “How many of these halls are we going to be walking through that don’t lead anywhere?” she grumbled.
“I don’t know, but we’re going to either have to turn around or find a way through this one.”
Marina nodded, and moved toward the door, but just as she began to run her fingers around the edge of it, it began to move. Open.
Whirling, she turned and slammed into Gabe, and they both turned and dashed around the corner from which they’d come. Keeping her footsteps light took effort, but Marina didn’t want the pounding sound of her running to alert the person behind her.
Suddenly, a hand yanked her arm, and she felt herself pulled into a room. She landed in Gabe’s arms, felt them come around her as if to steady her. Then he dropped his hands away and they moved together to the wall, pressing up against it behind the door in case it slid back open.
But then a noise behind her made her stiffen.
She grabbed blindly for Gabe’s wrist, slowly turning.
31
An old man stared at Gabe and Marina from across the room.
He sat at a large table, a cracked roll of thick, yellowing paper spread out in front of him. Even from a distance, she could tell that it was old and on the verge of deteriorating.
Something moved in her core as the man’s eyes caught hers, delved into them, trying to read her innermost thoughts. A palpable something hung in the room; something that she could only describe as other-worldly, spiritual … powerful.
The man blinked, and she could almost feel the dryness of his eyes as his lids scraped over them.
“You are hiding from someone.” He spoke at last, and it was as if she were in a fog. The words, smooth and low, came as if from far away, and it took a moment for them to penetrate. She nodded
Gabe shifted next to her, barely brushing against her arm, but enough that his movement reminded her that he was there.
“We … wanted to be alone.” She said the first thing that popped into her head, and just as the words came out of her mouth, she felt Gabe’s arm spasm, his movement more startled than before.
Breaking her gaze with the elderly man, she looked up. Shock warped across Gabe’s face and Marina realized what had happened.
The man had spoken in an unfamiliar language. And she’d replied in the same.
She looked back at him again, locking with his fathomless grey eyes, her mouth so dry she couldn’t have spoken again if her life depended on it. And perhaps it did. Damn good thing she and Gabe had changed their clothing.
Maybe, perhaps, they would be able to get out of this.
The elderly man did not move. He stared at them as if considering. She felt the cool wall behind her, and skittered her gaze around the chamber, looking for a possible escape route. She wasn’t in this alone, and the two of them would find a way out.
The room was furnished simply with seven chairs scattered about, including the one holding the frail man. Two large tables: one in front of him, and one, larger one, nearer to Marina and Gabe. Rolls of paper, a stack of what looked like ancient books, and in the corner, two beautiful drums. Crystals piled on the table next to the old man.
“It has been long since I’ve seen young love.” The man spoke again, his voice smooth. “But why must you hide? Deceit is not a strength one should embrace.”
Marina felt her pent-up breath release. She managed it so that it expelled slowly, not to give away her relief. The man believed her.
Gabe’s hand convulsed next to hers and she felt his confusion, but she had no way to explain. She brushed her fingers against his in a command to let her handle this as she nodded at the man.
Somehow she knew he was an important person. A Skaladeska, of course, now that he had spoken the language. She guessed he was in his late eighties. His pale skin still covered his skull closely, without the sagging lines of one who’d overindulged in his long life. Indeed, he looked as though he’d lived a harsh life, full of tests and trials. Yet an aura of calmness, and acceptance, and something ….spiritual. That word again.
Suddenly Marina knew who he reminded her of. The Dalai Lama. Or Obi-Wan Ben Kenobi.
That same quiet strength, that same calm spirituality, the same knowing.
She wondered what the hell she was doing here. Why she felt so weirdly comfortable.
Here. Heaven knew where.
Why had she left her organized, self-directed life for this?
For duty.
For a heritage she’d thought lost.
“It is a ….” Marina struggled to find the right word in a language she’d not heard or spoken for twenty-odd years, “ … secret.”
Would he let them go?
It wasn’t as if the man’s frail muscles could stop them if they wanted to leave. But … there was something else about him. He might, indeed, be a worthy adversary.
The man nodded. “I trust you have your reasons.” He gestured with his wrinkled hand, the blue lines tracing skin as delicate as an elderly woman’s. “Go, and live, then, with your deceit.”
Just as she turned toward the door, it opened.
Marina froze and Gabe bumped into her from behind.
She looked up into her father’s face.
32
He looked down at her, shock flooding his face.
Marina didn’t move. Her breath filled her lungs and held there, then expelled in a long, low, soft huff.
He looked healthier than she remembered; his face filled in, his skin creamy and smooth like he’d just moisturized it. He’d shaved his head, and it gave him a whole different look. His brows were trimmed and he was dressed neatly in clothing similar to that which she and Gabe wore. When was the last time she’d seen him so well groomed, his eyes so white instead of bloodshot?