His words made Deirdre sick. “How long?” she said.
“The crates are to arrive in London tomorrow. The location is here.”
He handed her a slip of paper. She stared as if he had handed her a kipper. “What do you want me to do with this?”
“You know what I want.”
Slowly she folded the paper, then stood and held it out to him. “I’m not your minion. If you want revenge against the Philosophers so badly, you can get it yourself.”
He drew himself up to his full height, towering over her, his face as beautiful and terrible as an angel’s. It was clear he wanted to rage at her. Instead he drew in a deep breath, then spoke in controlled words.
“Yes, I want vengeance. I have wanted it for centuries, and all the while I’ve been unable to so much as raise a finger against them, lest the blood in my veins burn me to ashes. I waited until I finally found a Seeker I believed could help me– I waited for you, Deirdre. But there’s another reason I’ve waited so long. You see, the more I studied the Sleeping Ones, the more I wondered at their purpose, and what would happen when perihelion came. And the more I came to believe that they must not be prevented from fulfilling that purpose, whatever it might be.”
Marius gave a rueful smile. “Perhaps it’s a result of my being a Seeker before a Philosopher, but the First Desideratum is ingrained in me: A Seeker shall not interfere with the actions of those of otherworldly nature. I still hold to that vow. And now, more than ever, I am certain that the Philosophers must not be allowed to interfere with the Sleeping Ones, or prevent them from doing what it is they seek to do when perihelion comes.” He picked up a piece of paper from the table with the teapot and held it out.
She glared at it, suspicious. “What is that?”
“It is the result of Paul Jacoby’s efforts at translating the writing on the stone arch. He achieved a major breakthrough yesterday when he . . . stumbled upon a lexicon of symbols from the tomb.”
“You mean when you gave it to him.”
He gave a dismissive wave and held the paper toward her. It was too dim in the hall, and her hand was shaking too badly, for her to read the words on the computer printout.
“What does it say?”
“Many things pertaining to the journey of the Sleeping Ones to Earth. But perhaps the most interesting are these two lines, written on the stones on either side of the keystone.”
He brought a tin lantern closer to her and pointed at the top of the page. There was a line of angular, alien symbols. Below was a translation in English: When the twins draw near, all shall come to nothing unless hope changes everything.
She looked up, her heart pounding. “ ‘When the twins draw near.’ It means Earth and Eldh, doesn’t it? Whatever the Sleeping Ones are waiting for, it’s related to perihelion. And to the rifts.” But what did that last part mean? How could simply hoping change anything?
He took the paper from her. “Do you see now? This is not about vengeance anymore. I still do not know what the Sleeping Ones intend to do, what transformation they seek. But I believe it is imperative they be allowed to complete it. The fate of two worlds may well depend on it. And what the Philosophers intend to do could destroy any chance of that happening. The Sleeping Ones came to this world for a purpose, Deirdre. They were never meant to be found. After all these centuries, that is the only thing I know for certain!”
His final words rose in volume, melding with a roll of thunder. Deirdre met his eyes. “How do I know I can trust you?”
He shrugged, his expression cold. “You can’t know. In the end, you can only believe.” He folded her fingers around the paper with the London address written on it. She gazed at her hand a long moment, then took the paper and slipped it into her pocket.
“Now what?” she said, meeting his golden eyes. “What should I do?”
Marius opened his mouth, but it was another voice that spoke: deep, gravelly, and familiar.
“I recommend you take a big step back.”
Both Deirdre and Marius turned their heads. A man stood at the far end of the front hall, in the opening that led to the foyer, his bulky form clad as always in a sleek designer suit. Deirdre staggered.
“Hello there, mate,” Anders said, and pointed his gun at her.
39.
Again thunder rattled the tall windows. Deirdre was so startled she took a step forward, an antelope drawn by fear toward the lion.
Anders tightened his big hand around the gun, holding it at arm’s length. “I need you to move away, Deirdre.”
As always, he pronounced her name DEER‑dree. However, his voice was no longer preternaturally cheery. Instead it was sharp and grim, and his eyes had undergone their own transmutation from vivid blue to hard steel. A wave of regret crashed over Deirdre. Then the wave ebbed, draining away, leaving her cold. How long had he been there, just outside the hall, listening?
You have to assume he’s heard everything.
Which meant he knew who Marius was. Knew whathe was.
“Come on, Deirdre,” he said, motioning with the gun. “You need to get out of the way. Now.”
“No,” she said, her own voice going hard. “Tell me what you’re doing here and how you followed me.”
“There isn’t time for that now, mate. You’ve got to listen to me.”
“No. You’ve lied to me.”
He flinched, and a husky note crept into his voice. “I know I have, mate. And I’m sorry about that, I really am. But if you’ve ever cared one whit about me–and I think you have–then I need you to do this for me. I need you to step aside.”
“Don’t do it, honey,” a smooth voice said behind her. “He’s trying to trick you.”
Fresh shock sizzled through Deirdre as lightning flickered outside the windows. She jerked her head around. Standing in a narrow opening Deirdre had not seen before was a tall, dusky‑skinned woman clad in a turtleneck sweater and tweed slacks.
“Sasha,” Deirdre said, her mind trying to comprehend what was happening. Sasha’s presence was an incongruity, like a polar bear in a desert.
Sasha took a step forward, and a door swung shut behind her, melding with the dark wood paneling. It was a servant’s entrance, designed to be invisible.
“Stop right there, Sasha,” Anders growled, taking a step forward, gun before him. So it was not at Deirdre or Marius that Anders had been aiming the weapon.
Sasha did as he commanded, resting her hands on her slender hips. She kept her dark eyes on Deirdre. “Everything he’s told you is a lie, Deirdre. It’s just like you suspected. Since that day we chatted, I’ve checked out the story he gave you, and it doesn’t match up with the facts I was able to uncover. Anders is not what he says he is. I went to talk to you, and that’s when I saw him rummaging through your desk and snapped his picture. Since then, I’ve been tailing him.”
“That’s not true!” Anders tried to get a bead on her with the gun, but Deirdre was still in the way.
“As a matter of fact, it is,” Sasha said coolly. “Go on, Deirdre. Ask him yourself. See if he can look you in the face and deny it.”
Deirdre glanced at Marius, but he only gazed at her, silent. She turned, looking at Anders. “Did you tell me the truth about why you joined the Seekers? Did you tell me about the truth about your gun? Did you tell me that you had gone through my desk, my papers?”
Again he grimaced, but Deirdre didn’t fool herself into thinking it was because he regretted what he had done. He was chagrined that he had been caught, that was all.