by Cherry Adair
Was he making connections that didn’t exist? Jack asked himself. Was he using a man he didn’t like to explain away the arguments he and Sara had where neither seemed to win? He shoved away from the door. Damn it to hell. He had no idea.
Knowing that Sara was in the other room, hurting as badly as he was, ripped out his heart. Why was it that he’d heard her words, believed what she’d told him, yet his emotions insisted that what she’d told him was a lie? And what about her claiming she’d gone to see him his first week in Australia?
Hadn’t happened.
But she insisted she’d been there.
Was it possible they were both right?
Were their emotions and reactions being manipulated? Jesus. Seemed far-fetched as hell to think Baltzer was as evil as Jack was painting him. But what if … ?
He took a deep breath. He had to go back in there. Whether she—or he, for that matter—liked it or not. They’d been instructed to stay together, which meant she was going to have company at her meeting in Lima.
He suddenly noticed a faint buzzing sound, just under the noise of the air conditioner, and glanced around.
The psionic safe was visible when it shouldn’t have been without a summons, hovering over the chair beside the window. With a sense of urgency, Jack said the words and opened it, retrieving the Book from the icy interior.
He was prepared for the weight of it, but not the unexpected blazing heat. “Ow, shit!” He dropped into the chair and let the book rest on his knees, his fingers stinging as if he’d touched a hot stove.
The book opened without fanfare, the pages flipping almost faster than Jack’s eyes could see them. “Got it,” he muttered, intrigued. “Something big. Something urgent.”
The pages stopped moving, and he waited for the words to form. But instead of text, a face hovered half a foot above the papyrus.
Enrique Rojas.
“Sara!” he yelled, yanking open the connecting door. “We’ve gotta go to the village. Now! Move it!”
THE MOMENT THEY MATERIALIZED in the village, Sara and Jack saw the crowd clustered nervously outside one of the small houses.
Inez Armato saw them first, rushing to meet them halfway. Her usually neatly braided hair was a wild mess, and she had aged ten years. “Jackson. Sara.” She snatched Sara’s hand, then turned and tugged her along. “How did you know—never mind. It is Enrique. He has the enfermedad—” She waved her hand as if to erase the word. “The sickness. I was just about to come and fetch you to his bedside.”
“He seemed fine when I saw him yesterday,” Jack told her, sensing the woman’s urgency and fear. The people gathered outside the house parted like the Red Sea to let them through.
Jack didn’t want Sara within a freaking mile of the place. “Stay out here,” he told her flatly when they stood on the narrow front porch. “Let me go in first and see if—”
“No. I’m coming in with you.”
“Jackson? Please, take this inside. And you, Sara.” Inez handed them each a small item. Without looking at it, Jack stuck his in his back pocket, and saw that Sara did the same.
He opened the door, then took Sara’s hand rather than argue with her and waste time. “Safer together than apart.”
They stepped inside the dimly lit interior. “From your lips,” she said quietly.
Her fingers felt small and slightly damp in his. Ah, Jesus, Sara. Please don’t catch whatever the fuck this is.
The one-room house was filled with acrid smoke that hung in a smelly haze about six feet off the floor. Jack coughed as his lungs filled with the putrid stench. The predominant smell was garlic mingled with a dozen unrecognizable herbs and plants, making breathing and visibility tricky. He materialized a paper mask for Sara and heard her grunt of surprise as it fitted over her nose and mouth.
There was no wizard trace in the room. Not a whiff. Ah, hell. “Señor Rojas?”
“Ven aquí. Sé rápido.” The old man’s voice trembled, and he hacked a cough that hurt Jack’s lungs. “You must hurry.”
It took only a few steps to reach the high, old-fashioned bed on the other side of the room. The village elder hardly made a bump under the mountain of covers. Enough light filtered through the closed drapes for Jack to see the elder’s flushed face and too-bright eyes.
“Is there anything we can get for you?” Sara asked softly, standing too damn close to the old man for Jack’s peace of mind. “Anything we can do?”
The man reached out a gnarled hand. “Jackson Slater?”
Jack took his hand. It felt like nothing more than papery flesh over brittle bones.
“You are Aequitas, sí?”
“I am, señor, sí. And so is Sara.”
“Omnivatics are—” He coughed for several moments. Sara let go of Jack’s hand, picked up a bottle of water from the table beside the bed, then leaned in and lifted the old man’s head. She held the plastic bottle to his mouth until he’d drunk his fill. Rojas waved her away, his glazed black eyes all for Jack.
“You know of this, sí? You know of the great Ophidian’s cometa? Sí, you would know the date of this event.”
“I do.” Jack said evenly. “What can you tell me to help me—”
Agitated, Rojas gripped his hand, hard enough to hurt. He started babbling in a combo of Spanish and Latin, so fast that Jack could only catch a word here and there.
“No entiendo, lo siento.” Like not a fucking clue what he was saying. “Ralentizar. Slow down, all right? Sara and I aren’t going anywhere.” Although Jack wished Sara would take a walk, or go to her damn meeting, or something. Anything other than stand here beside a wizard about to go ballistic at any minute.
“Open the first cajón in the chest over there.” Since he was still attached to Jack’s hand, Sara gave him an inquiring look, and Jack nodded for her to open the drawer. “Yes. That one, Miss Sara. Please to remove the—” He coughed and gagged. Jack helped him drink more water. “Bring me the two boxes inside.”
Sara withdrew two boxes covered in a crystallized fabric that picked up the dim light and threw tiny rainbows of color all over the room. She brought them over and placed them by Rojas’s side on the bright quilt. One was less than twelve inches long and about three inches high. The other, covered in the same shiny material, was small, the size of a pillbox.
The old man palmed the small box in his free hand, then nudged the larger one forward. “This one. This one is for the Aequitas. You must take it and go.”
Whatever was in the box wasn’t a gift, Jack knew. “What do I do with this?” he asked softly.
“Usted sabrá cuando lo necesite.”
When you need it, you will know. Great.
“They are working to find a cure for this illness,” Jack told him in Spanish.
“And they will be too late for me.”
“No,” Sara said, also in Spanish, bringing the water back to him. “This sickness takes at least twelve days.” “You’ve just become sick. We still have time.”
Rojas wiped his dry mouth, then motioned for her to bring the water closer. Very gently she tilted the bottle so the old man could drink. When he was done, he patted her hand, then closed his eyes and released his grip on Jack’s fingers. The open pillbox lay beside his lax hand.
Jack knew he was dead. Whatever Enrique Rojas had just ingested had killed him instantly.
“WHAT WAS IT ROJAS whispered to you back there?” Sara asked as soon as they materialized just outside the entrance to the cave. Jack had insisted that they come back for “just a few minutes.”
Against her better judgment, she’d agreed. Thank God the cave wasn’t very big. It would take them only a few minutes to walk around the entire chamber.
“They’ve made a shrine out of this place; check this out.” Jack was trailing his fingers over the rock face. “He said he was too old and too weak to be the keeper of the portal.”
“The portal? Or a portal?”
“I think he meant exactly what we think he me
ant. But we’ll soon find out.”
Sara stayed where she was beside the cave entrance. She didn’t find rock as interesting as he did. “Are you telling me that Señor Rojas claims that this little cave is the Omnivatic’s portal? The one it travels through to reach their nest in the Pyrenees? My God, Jack. Do you think he’s right?” It sounded unbelievably farfetched. But then, so had a two-hundred-foot freaking snake.
“Won’t know until we check it out, will we?”
“How will we know?” She glanced around the entrance, debating which would be safer, inside or out. “Looks like any other cave to me. Why don’t we go and report what we know to the Council? Let them handle it.”
“I have to check it out and see where it goes, if anywhere.”
Sara grabbed his arm. “You’re not going to follow some freaking tunnel/portal/snake path, are you?”
“Relax. I’m just going to reconnoiter. It’s a small cave, shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes. Then we’ll go and tell the Wizard Council what we find.”
“Okay. But I don’t want to be long. I have a lunch meeting in Lima. I don’t want you to follow the trail of the snake if it’ll take you through some terrifying portal to God only knows where. Let the Wizard Council deal with it.”
Chapter Fourteen
The entrance wasn’t huge, a couple of feet above Jack’s head and about ten feet wide when he stepped inside. Big enough for a two-hundred-foot snake to slither into? He shook his head. “There’s just no way a snake that huge could fit in here. Which is good. Really good.”
While he didn’t completely believe that Sara had actually seen a two-hundred-foot-long snake, the thought of one that size was enough to put him into a cold sweat in the middle of a sweltering jungle.
Still, she’d been terrified of something. Just to be on the safe side, he’d brought the Sig Sauer and the Ka-Bar hunting knife. He wasn’t taking any chances if his powers went on the fritz again. They’d been talking about the myth of the rainbow snake with Duncan Edge; Sara must’ve fallen asleep, and her subconscious had filled in more details than Jack really wanted to hear.
He didn’t want to have the same freaking nightmare.
The hothouse jungle, alive with noise and movement, grew right to the cave opening. As he stepped outside, the chattering of monkeys, the squeaks of rodents, and the slithering, chirping, and rustling of other creatures assaulted his senses.
Rocks had been placed in an untidy pile six or seven feet high against the outside wall, almost like a religious shrine. To the god Sarulu? Jack stepped up for a closer look. “Come and take a look at all the stuff people have left.”
Sara had her back to the cave wall, her gaze shifting across the foliage in front of her. “I can see it just fine from over here, thanks.”
Jack turned to inspect the offerings. Among the baskets of brightly colored fruit were candles of various sizes and boxes of matches. So Sarulu could light a candle or two when necessary? Seriously, did a snake need to light up? Jack thought wryly.
The fruit was fresh, as were the gourds of water and small plates of arepas, half-eaten by the animals and already covered with insects happily finishing the job. He ignored the buzz of the small bugs close to his face. They were everywhere and swatting them away didn’t make a jot of difference.
“What did Rojas give you?” Sara asked curiously, leaning against the sun-warmed rock face.
“I’ll check it out when we get back. I don’t want to open it here. In fact, let me send it somewhere for safekeeping. Whatever it was was clearly important to Rojas.” He pulled the box from his back pocket and sent it to the psionic safe, then took a closer look at the display. “This is … interesting.”
Hundreds of thin leather cords hung from the limestone rock. From each one dangled a shiny amulet, moving slightly in the hot breeze, refracting the sunlight into a kaleidoscope of colors.
“What is it, a mobile of some sort? Look how the prisms make little rainbows on the leaves over there.” She pointed. “Pretty but, under the circumstances, creepy.”
No shit. Jack lifted a braided cord on his finger, holding the six-inch amulet on his palm. His lip curled with distaste, and he wished he hadn’t touched it: while not the real deal, the good-luck charm looked unnervingly like a shed snakeskin. Made of crystal, it had heft to it and was an intricate work of art. Why anyone would find shed snakeskin interesting or beautiful, he had no idea.
“Ah, hell.” He reached into the pocket where he’d stuffed Inez’s gift and pulled out an identical amulet, sans the leather cord.
She swiveled her attention from the prisms. “What?”
“Inez generously gave us each the same crystal snakeskin amulet.”
“Keep it in your pocket.” Her lips twitched. “It might ward off bad juju.”
“Who gives a fuck about juju? Let’s hope it wards off snakes.” For a moment, their eyes met, and they were in complete agreement.
He returned the amulet on the cord to the rough rocky wall. If these things warded off snakes, he was all for them staying right where they were, blocking the entrance to the cave.
“Let’s go in. Keep your eyes open for anything that slithers, large or small.” Jack grasped Sara’s hand in his and moved toward the entrance.
“Wouldn’t you prefer to have someone else, someone more powerful, check this out with you? I bet the Council would send someone,” she suggested hopefully, digging in her heels right inside the entrance.
She cast a nervous glance outside. Bracing herself to see those freaky elliptical eyes watching her? Nightmare or illusion, whatever it was, it had scared her to death.
“I don’t have time to call in reinforcements, and I don’t have anyone else right now. Who am I supposed to take with me? My butler?” Jack asked, trying to keep things light.
“If he can use magic, shoot a gun, and iron your shirt, go for it.”
His lips twitched. “I’ve never considered an ironed shirt a weapon.”
Sara bit her bottom lip. “Do you really want me to go with you?”
“Considering my relationship with snakes and that you think you saw one bigger than a city bus, I think it might be a good idea. I might need you to protect me.”
“Don’t even joke about it.” She shuddered. “Although … I did blast that damn snake with some pretty powerful fireballs.”
“See? Your fire power, my cold powers—we can take down just about anything, right?”
“If you say so. And, FYI—I didn’t think I saw a gigantic snake chasing me. I did see the damn thing. Felt it. And looked into its beady eyes.” Her phone rang. Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony. Baltzer’s ring tone. Just hearing it made Jack want to grab the phone and stomp it to pieces. Hardly mature, but satisfying on many levels.
Grinning, he pulled her closer and kissed her lingeringly on the mouth. “Beady eyes? A snake?”
“Yes. Observe.” She indicated her body from head to toe. “Full-body shudder, Jackson.” His lips came back down, lingering on hers for a few more seconds. When he lifted his head, she touched her fingertips to his mouth.
Her phone was still ringing, but she didn’t pull away to answer it, even though they both knew who was on the line.
“Catch up,” Jack said softly, then stepped aside.
She dredged up a smile. “Hi, Grant.”
She’d put the phone on speaker. “Hi, babe,” Baltzer said smoothly. “I’m at the Lima project; want to meet me for a drink later?”
Her eyes met Jack’s, and he thought, Here we go again. The two men had a tendency to compete for her attention, making her the prize in their unspoken macho rivalry. It was ridiculous, Jack knew. She considered Baltzer more of an uncle than anything romantic. But he’d never been able to suppress a little bit of jealousy when Sara spent so much damn time with the man.
“How crazy is it that we live in the same house and have to make an appointment to see each other in another freaking country?” Sara said with a small laugh.
>
Baltzer made a sympathetic sound that grated on Jack’s nerves. It was all posturing. Had Baltzer ever had a genuine emotion that wasn’t self-serving? Jack doubted it. “I don’t want to intrude on your reunion with Slater.” The older man sounded sincerely apologetic. “But I do miss you, babe. If Jack doesn’t object, I’d love to spend some alone time with you.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, her tone a little sharp. “Jack doesn’t dictate who my friends are.”
“Where are you? You sound as if you’re in a tunnel.”
“Just a bad connection.”
If he only knew, Jack thought, turning his back to give her some space. She didn’t turn the phone off speaker, and there was no way he was going farther into that wall of green to give her real privacy.
“I’d love to get together with you later,” she said cheerfully. “I’m coming into town for a late lunch with William and Aarón Guerrero. Do you want in on the meeting?”
“I’ll have to pass. I have a videoconference call with the money people in Geneva. Are you taking the Cessna or teleporting?”
“Teleporting is a lot faster, and I have some things I want to clear off my desk before lunch.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Grant asked gently. “With Slater back in the picture, I’m sure your emotions are all over the place. Do you really want to risk teleporting now?”
Sara’s emotions were all over the place? Interesting way of tying her emotions to him in a negative-reinforcement kinda way, Jack thought. Baltzer had always had the ability to point out, and emphasize, Sara’s limitations. Jack’s point exactly. Unfortunately, Sara just didn’t get it.
“I’ll be careful,” she told Baltzer. “I really don’t have eight hours to spare to fly there and back.”
“Maybe you can meet with William and the architect another time, my dear. Sometime when you do have eight hours to spare to travel to a business meeting.”
“I prefer,” she said mildly, “in this instance anyway, not to waste time. Not when there’s no need to do so.”
“This is business, Sara. Slater will have to amuse himself while you work. He does know that you have a job, right?”