“Always. But if it were something that might help us find either the ring or the mines, she wouldn’t hold it back. I’m sure of it.”
Isla ran a hand through her hair, closed her eyes, and leaned her head back. “This seems a risky proposition to me.”
“There’s always danger when you go after something of such great value.”
“Not to me. Risky for the organization. Think about it. One of our aims is to undo the damage done by the monolithic Middle Eastern religions. To prove the existence of Solomon’s Mines, hell, to prove that Solomon himself existed, only strengthens Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.”
Gowan scratched his chin, nodding thoughtfully. “You are correct, of course. I presume she wants the wealth but not the fame that would come from the discovery. The ring…I suppose she believes it has magical powers.”
“I think you’re right.” A loud hiss, seemingly directly above them, interrupted her thoughts. “Bloody things!” Despite her reservations about the man, Isla couldn’t overcome her natural curiosity. “What, exactly, are these creatures?”
Gowan seemed to consider this question for a while. “Science experiments, when it comes right down to it. A combination of genetic engineering and careful breeding. They were supposed to have all been put down when the Sisterhood fell a few years back, but loyal elements within the government worked to save as many as they could. They’re actually quite friendly once you get to know them.”
She whipped her head to the side to stare at Gowan. He returned her gaze for a long moment and then burst out laughing.
“I’m talking out of my ass, of course. Never gotten too close to any of them.”
Isla shook her head.
“Why do you serve the Sisterhood? You’re American and your accent places you firmly in the Bible Belt.”
“I never fit in there,” he said promptly. “I know I don’t look it or sound it, but I’m fifty percent Native American. I believe in the old ways and think the world would be better off if our beliefs and traditions were strongly supported. I’m not out to eradicate the major religions, but to show people there’s more than one truth, more than one way. Maybe someday I can do for my people what Nineve will do for the descendants of the Celts.”
“You believe we’re doing the right thing?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely. There’s a certainty that comes with the belief that yours is the one true God, and with that certainty comes a license to oppress, even to kill. We’ve witnessed it for centuries and it’s getting worse. Violence between Christians and Muslims is going to tear this world apart unless we show them a different way. A better way.”
Isla nodded, though she wasn’t completely convinced. Gowan’s was a narrow, slanted view, but it was far too late for that sort of nuanced debate. One thing he was right about — the division in society was becoming too great. Something needed to change.
Gowan yawned, stretched, and tried to put his arm around her shoulders. What an ass. They’d just had their first civil conversation and he had to go and ruin it.
She stood and forced a yawn.
“I think I’m ready to turn in,” she said. “I’ll need my rest if I’m going to find a ring that’s been lost for three thousand years.”
Chapter 15
Dark clouds blanketed the night sky as Maddock and Kendra strolled along what had once been the Gallows Road, where convicted criminals were hanged. Maddock tried to imagine a convicted man, taking his final steps along this thoroughfare. He pictured onlookers lining the streets, some hurling epithets, shaking fists, or spitting, but most merely staring in fascination or horror. Up ahead, the hangman waited.
“You with me?” Kendra gave his hand a squeeze. “You’ve been quiet for a long time.”
“Sorry, sometimes I get caught up in the history of a place.”
“I hear you.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I think it’s endearing. A sense of wonder is a great thing.”
“Bones says it happens to him, too, but only at Hooters.”
Kendra laughed. “He’s…special.”
“That he is, but also the best friend anyone could ask for.”
Kendra guided them off the main road and onto a grassy lawn. She turned on the flashlight app on her smartphone and looked around until she located a spot where strips of fresh sod had recently been put down. “This is it,” she said, opening the backpack she’d picked up at her home. She shoved a blanket into Maddock’s arms. “Spread this out.”
“I like it so far. Want me to put on some slow jazz?”
“Pervert,” she said. “And if you’ve got slow jazz on your phone, I’d rather not know about it.”
Maddock spread the blanket atop the sod and sat down. Kendra joined him and began removing items from her pack.
“Digital recorder,” she said, placing a silver object that looked a bit like an old-time microphone on the blanket between them. “Sometimes you can actually hear what a spirit is saying, but that’s exceedingly rare. Spirits tend to communicate on a wavelength outside our auditory spectrum. That’s why sometimes a dog will react to the presence of a spirit while its family remains oblivious.”
Maddock nodded, determined to keep his skepticism at bay and embrace the experience, even if he thought it was a bunch of crap.
“Next we have an EMP monitor.” She handed him a handheld device with a large dial, a screen, and several buttons along the top. Two stubs, like small antennae, protruded from the top. “We use this for yes or no questions. Same with this flashlight.” She took out a small flashlight, turned it on, and unscrewed it until the light began to flicker. She tightened it again until the beam was steady, then clicked it off.
“I wondered how that worked,” Maddock said.
“The spirits can’t manipulate the switch, but they can interfere with the flow of a weak electrical current. We’ll switch everything on once everyone arrives.”
Maddock had texted Bones, apprising him of the plan. Meanwhile, Kendra had invited two friends who were paranormal investigators, explaining that it was common practice to have three or more “true believers” in order to guarantee optimal conditions.
“I take it I don’t qualify,” he said.
“Not even close,” Kendra said. “But I hope you’ll keep an open mind about it. There are a lot of intelligent, educated people who are either believers or who haven’t dismissed the possibility that spirits still exist.”
Maddock nodded. “So, why this particular spot?” He patted the blanket.
“Not long ago, an archaeological dig team uncovered evidence that the old gallows was located on this exact spot. It’s long been believed that they were built somewhere in this immediate vicinity, but only now are we finding supporting evidence that this was, in fact, the spot.”
“So, this is probably where Caesar died?”
“Almost certainly. He and the other pirates, along with other victims, are buried somewhere along this street, but no one knows where. In any case, the place where a person died, or where they lived, is really where you want to look. Burial sites are dead zones for the spirit world, pun intended.”
“Assuming I buy into all this, do you really think we have a chance of contacting Caesar?”
Kendra nodded. “I’ve done it before. Knowing a spirit’s name makes a big difference. They are compelled to respond to you, if only briefly until they can summon the strength to resist.” She looked up and her eyes brightened. “Here come my friends.”
Two men approached, walking hand in hand. Kendra greeted them with hugs and introduced them to Maddock, who shook hands with each. Joel was a rail-thin man in his early thirties with a tanned, weathered face, wispy mustache, and receding brown hair. His husband, Larry, was the opposite of his partner, plump, moon-faced, with fair skin and thick strawberry blond hair that he wore in a bowl cut.