The cooking hut was quiet in the morning. When the sun hit the building at a certain angle, a yellowish-white beam of light came through the slit window and slowly moved across the floor. Vicki thought about Hollis and imagined him lying beside her. His body was covered with scars from all kinds of fights and confrontations, but when she looked into his eyes she saw the gentleness there. Now that they were safe on the island, Vicki had the time to think about him. Hollis was a very good fighter, but she was worried that his confidence would get him into trouble.
Around six o’clock, Sister Joan returned to the hut and began banging kettles around as she brewed tea. The three other nuns arrived half an hour later, and everyone ate breakfast together. A large jar of honey was in the middle of the dining room table. Holding the jar with both hands, Alice liked to pour gooey shapes on the surface of her porridge.
The little girl still refused to talk, but she seemed to enjoy living on the island. She helped the nuns with their daily tasks, picked flowers and stuffed them into empty marmalade jars, and explored the island with a stick for a Harlequin sword. Once she guided Vicki down a narrow path cut into the side of a cliff. It was a hundred yards straight down to the rocky shore, where waves surged around the rocks.
A little cave was at the end of the path. It had a stone bench covered with moss and a little altar with a Celtic cross. “This looks like a hermit’s cave,” Vicki said, and Alice seemed pleased with this idea. The two of them sat just outside the cave’s narrow opening while the little girl threw pebbles at the horizon.
Alice treated Vicki like an older sister who was in charge of brushing her hair. She adored the nuns, who read her adventure books and baked raisin cakes for her tea. One evening, she even lay on a bench in the chapel with her head on Sister Joan’s lap. Maya was in a different category for the little girl; she wasn’t Alice’s mother, sister, or friend. Sometimes, Vicki watched them glance at each other with an odd sort of understanding. They seemed to share the same feeling of loneliness no matter how many people were in the room.
Twice a day, Maya visited Matthew Corrigan’s body in the chamber beneath the supply hut. The rest of the time she kept to herself, following the stone pathway to the dock and looking out at the sea. Vicki didn’t dare ask what had happened, but it was clear that Maya had done something that gave Mother Blessing an excuse to take Gabriel and leave Skellig Columba.
On their eighth day on the island, Vicki woke up early in the morning and saw the Harlequin kneeling beside her. “Come downstairs,” Maya whispered. “I need to talk to you.”
Wrapped in a black shawl, Vicki went downstairs to the dining area, where there was a long table with two benches. Maya had started a peat fire in the stove and it gave off a faint heat. Vicki sat on one of the benches and leaned against the wall. A large candle burned in the middle of the table, and shadows passed across Maya’s face when she circled the room.
“Remember when we first arrived in Portmagee and Gabriel and I went to find Captain Foley? After we left his house, we sat down on that bench by the shore, and I swore that I would stand by Gabriel-no matter what happened.”
Vicki nodded and spoke softly. “That must have been difficult. You once told me that Harlequins don’t like to make promises…”
“It wasn’t difficult at all. I wanted to say those words-more than anything.” Maya approached the candle and stared at the flame. “I made a promise to Gabriel and I intend to keep it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to London to find Gabriel. No one can do a better job of protecting him.”
“What about Mother Blessing?”
“She attacked me in the chapel, but that was just to get my attention. I’m not going to let her intimidate me again.” With an angry look in her eyes, Maya resumed pacing. “I’ll fight her or Linden or anyone else who tries to keep me from Gabriel. Different Harlequins have been ordering me around since I was a child, but those days have passed.”
Mother Blessing will kill you, Vicki thought. But she stayed silent. Maya’s face seemed to glow with a fierce energy.
“If this promise is important to you, then go to London. Don’t worry about Matthew Corrigan. I’ll be here if he crosses back over to this world.”
“I’m concerned about my obligation, Vicki. I did agree to stay and protect him.”
“It’s safe on the island,” Vicki said. “Even Mother Blessing said that. She was here almost six months and didn’t even see a bird-watcher.”
“What if something happens?”
“Then I’ll solve the problem. I’m just like you, Maya. I’m not a little girl anymore.”
Maya stopped pacing and smiled slightly. “Yes. You’ve changed, too.”
“Foley arrives tomorrow morning with the supplies and he can take you back to the mainland. But how are you going to find Gabriel in London?”
“He’s probably going to contact the Free Runners. I’ve been to their house on the South Bank so I’ll go there and speak to Gabriel’s friends.”
“Take all the money in my knapsack. We can’t use it on the island.”
“Maya…” said a wispy voice, and Vicki was surprised to see Alice Chen standing near the staircase. The child had spoken for the first time since she had come into their lives. Her mouth moved in silence as if she didn’t believe that sound could emerge from her throat. Then she spoke again. “Please don’t go, Maya. I like you here.”
Maya’s face became the usual Harlequin mask, but then her mouth softened and she allowed herself to feel an emotion other than anger. Vicki had watched Maya act brave so many times during the last few months. But the bravest moment was now-right now-when she crossed the room and embraced the little girl.
ONE OF THE British mercenaries who had flown to Ireland with Boone opened the side door to the helicopter’s cargo bay. Boone was sitting on a steel bench working on his laptop computer.
“Excuse me, sir. But you wanted to know when Mr. Harkness arrived.”
“That’s correct. Thank you.”
Boone pulled on his jacket and got out of the helicopter. The two mercenaries and the pilot stood on the tarmac, smoking cigarettes and talking about job offers in Moscow. During the last three hours, everyone had been waiting at a small airfield outside of Killarney. It was late in the afternoon, and the amateur pilots who had practiced their crosswind landings had tied down their planes and driven home. The airfield was in the middle of the Irish countryside, surrounded by fenced-in pasture. Sheep grazed on the north side of the field; dairy cattle were south of the Quonset huts. There was a pleasant smell of cut grass in the air.
A small pickup with a steel shell covering the truck bed was parked about two hundred yards away, directly inside the entrance gate. Mr. Harkness got out of the truck as Boone walked across the tarmac. Boone had met the retired zookeeper in Prague when they had captured, interrogated, and killed Maya’s father. The old man had pale skin and bad teeth. He wore a tweed sports coat and a stained regimental tie.
Boone had hired and supervised a great many mercenaries, but Harkness made him uncomfortable. The old man seemed to enjoy handling the splicers. It was his job, of course. But Harkness got excited when he talked about these genetic distortions created by the Brethren’s research scientists. He was a man without power who now controlled something that was highly dangerous. Boone always felt as if he were dealing with a beggar who was juggling a live grenade.
“Good evening, Mr. Boone. A pleasure to meet you again.” Harkness bobbed his head up and down respectfully.