The Eye of the Wolf

by Sadie Vanderveen

  Will grabbed her hand and dragged her back to the jewel case, muttering under his breath about first not wanting to leave and now wanting to get out. He stopped short of the case and shone the beam of light on the lock. “Okay, Sherlock, how do we get around the lock? I’m a prince, not a locksmith.”

  If Will’s tone hadn’t been so heated, Mikayla might have smirked, but instead she pointed to the office. “He keeps a spare set of keys inside his desk drawer.”

  Will spun away from her, ordering her to stay put. He no longer cared about the cloak and dagger routine. He no longer cared to whisper and walk softly. He wanted to get this over-with so he could drag her into the street and yell until his heart was content, until the anger had disappeared, until the feeling of betrayal was gone. He pulled the steak knife from his pocket and slit the police tape that sealed the office. He vanished inside only to return a moment later with the keys jingling in his hand. He attempted to slip a key into the lock and swore when it didn’t fit.

  Mikayla held the flashlight steady on the lock fighting back the grin that threatened to break across her face. Forgotten was the nervousness and sudden cold that had come over her. Forgotten was the fact that they were illegally breaking and entering. She only knew the man beside her smelling of a fresh rain, strong and virile. A sudden punch of lust assaulted her system as the final key slid easily into the lock and turned.

  Will lifted the glass case carefully, praying the inspector didn’t return to dust for prints again now that his prints were all over the case, implicating him in a crime. He held up the glass lid and turned to look at Mikayla who was grinning at him, a ridiculous grin that he couldn’t fight. He felt the tension go out of his limbs and suddenly he felt as if he were on a grand adventure instead of committing a crime. He smiled back and gestured with the flashlight for her to do whatever it was she had needed to do so badly. His system fizzled when she pressed a quick, hot kiss to his lips and then reached into the case.

  Her hands wrapped around the crown, feeling the coolness of the gilded metal. Mikayla lifted it from its satin pillow, bringing it closer to her face. Her mind took her back to the first day she had toured the museum, Dejeune at her side. He had let her hold the crown, and she remembered the heat the metal had given off, the brilliance of the gems. She wondered why it wasn’t giving off that same heat, why the gems didn’t sparkle quite as brilliantly. She knew she could blame it on the dim lighting, but she also knew that wasn’t the reason.

  Will watched her, the rubies reflecting off of her face, sparkles dancing across her beautiful skin. Her eyes were half-closed, as if she were remembering something from the past. Her lips were pursed in concentration, but on her face was the purest joy, joy he couldn’t remember ever having seen before. He realized suddenly that this was her life, regardless of the impossible fairy tales about Prince Charming and his Cinderella, this moment was her life like he could never be. Sadness swam over him even as need built inside him. He knew that if it hadn’t been that time and that place, he would have taken her right then, but instead, he lowered the glass lid and waited for her to speak.

  Mikayla inhaled deeply and held it as she tipped the crown to peer inside the band. She remembered seeing the engraving. The engraving that matched the carving on the stones and the embroidery on the tapestry. She remembered seeing it there and how fanatic Dejeune had been about her not looking at it. She tipped the crown and peered inside. Her breath exhaled in a loud whoosh. A faint smile in relief quirked at the corners of her mouth.

  “What is it, Luv?” Will leaned over to look inside the crown. He saw nothing.

  Mikayla turned her head. They were just inches apart. “This is a fake, Will. This isn’t the original crown.” Her fingers ran across the filigree work, feeling the rough edges left by the mold that had cut the metal.

  Will looked from the crown to her eyes that danced with mischief. “How can you say that?”

  Mikayla frowned at him and tipped the crown for him to see closer. “When I first arrived here, Dejeune let me hold King Henry’s crown. On the inside band was an engraving just like the one we found in that stone at the top of the mountain. I didn’t remember it until earlier today. This is a fake, Will. I estimate it is twentieth century, but I can’t get any more specific than that without further study.” She gestured for him to lift the lid and gently placed the crown back on the satin pillow. “I can guarantee that that crown is not from the Middle Ages. Believe me, I’m considered an expert.”

  Will smiled slightly. “Okay, so where is the original crown?”

  Mikayla shrugged. Her fingers traced along the scepter that rested next to the crown. “I don’t know, Will, but it must be important to have been taken right out of the case.”

  As her fingers traced the scepter, images of Dejeune on the floor, blood pooling, scissors glinting in faint light raced through her brain. His mouth worked, trying to form one word. Mikayla frowned and focused her mind, her eyes on the sharp edges of the scepter. Blood bubbled from Dejeune’s lips as one word escaped his lips as death consumed him. “Wolf.” Mikayla said softly, her fingers resting on the scepter, its gold shining in the dim light.

  Will brought the flashlight to her face. A shiver danced down his spine. “What?”

  Mikayla raised her face, her eyes were wide. “Wolf. That was what he was trying to say. He was trying to say ‘Wolf’.”

  “Who, Mikayla?” Will took her arm and shook her gently, trying to pull her from the spell she seemed to be under.

  “Dejeune. He said ‘wolf’ before he died.” She shuddered as her mind cleared and she was yanked back into the present. The rain on the roof of the museum seemed abnormally loud and goosebumps broke out across her flesh. She hugged herself, rubbing her arms furiously.

  “Are you sure?” When she nodded, Will locked the case swiftly and dragged her across the floor to the office. He disappeared inside momentarily and then returned to her side. He dragged her sluggish feet across the marble to the door. After a swift peek out the door, he slid out pulling her behind him. The flashlight disappeared into the sleeve of his rain jacket and they blended into the crowds thronging the street.

  It was only after the darkness and silence had settled again that the shadow behind a pillar moved. It moved on silent feet towards the exit. The prince and the American weren’t the only thieves, especially now that the diary of King Malachi had been found.

  “All right, Mikayla, what is it in that diary that told you about the crown?” Will demanded. He was dry and warm and in no mood for secrets or games. He wrapped her feet in a blanket and rubbed the life back into them as she sipped hot chocolate, hair wrapped in a fluffy towel. If he hadn’t been aggravated with her, he might have found her irresistibly adorable; however, he was irritated.

  Mikayla took a sip, leveling her gaze over the rim of her mug. His hair was mussed, as always, she mused, and his cheeks were pink from the cold rain that was steadily drowning paradise. She knew she could probably distract him from the idea of the diary, but she found that she didn’t really want to. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to share with him and bring him into her world.

  She pulled her feet free and walked across the room to where their wet clothes were piled. From her rain coat, she pulled free the diary and returned to her spot in front of the fireplace where a fire was crackling merrily. She snuggled back into her blanket and welcomed Will as he slid under the blanket beside her. He slipped an arm around her shoulder and cuddled her close despite the annoyance that sizzled in his system. He was warm and inviting against her cool skin.

  Mikayla untied the leather thong that held it closed. She moved her fingers along the vellum pages until she came across the marker she had placed in the diary. In a clear voice, she began to read.

  I promised my grandmother that I would do away with the Eye of the Wolf. I swore to her that I would eliminate the curse upon our family. I hesitated, however, because never did I believe that a jewel could be evil. Only people an
d Satan are evil. I now believe that the Eye of the Wolf is evil.

  My knights and I put down the insurrection. Askan was murdered by his own followers. I believe he became greedy and ceased to be the strong leader that I believed he was. The loss to us was immense, however. I lost a great many of my best knights in the final battle. Now there are many mothers without sons, wives without husbands, and children without fathers. All of this death simply because of a fist-sized sapphire.

  Today, I fulfilled my promise to my grandmother, Elena. I made the Eye of the Wolf disappear; however, I could not destroy it. I could not destroy a beautiful jewel that God made. I have hidden it so that future generations, where greed and jealousy do not rule shall be able to find it.

  I have hidden it in a sanctified place, where God shall oversee the sapphire, blessing it and wiping away its sin. I have left three markers on the island, telling those future generations where to find it so that the love that made it shall set it free from its prison. However, if no one is to find it, then it shall wait for eternity, just as we all go to our eternal rest eventually, to wait for the next coming.

  I will peace to come to my land now that this thing of evil is gone. I will it and I demand it. May God bless us with peace now that the wars are through.

  Their heads jerked up, and the diary slipped to the floor at the pounding on the door. It was the shout of “Police!” that surprised them more. Mikayla clutched at Will’s hand as he stood from his seat on the couch beside her. He gave her one squeeze that was meant to comfort before releasing her hand. With his own heart pounding, he scooped up the diary and shoved it under a cushion, hiding it from view. He swallowed and took Mikayla’s sweaty palm in his own, leading her to the door. Her breathing was harsh and shallow.

  “What do they want, Will?” She whispered as his fingers wrapped around the door handle and began to twist. “What if they are here to arrest me?” She nibbled on a already torn fingernail, aggravating it until it bled.

  Before swinging open the door, Will gave her one last look that told her he wouldn’t let that happen. He opened the door with a bright, cheerful smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Inspector! What brings you out on such an awful day?”

  Will swung the screen open for the police inspector, a short, round man who was balding on top. Small, round spectacles perched on his nose, the rims losing a battle against the flabbiness of his cheeks. He was a nervous man who didn’t seem to enjoy his job any more than the people he often dealt with. He didn’t like being there, not on this errand. He tucked his small, child-like hands in the pockets of his gray overcoat and rocked on the balls of his feet. He looked from Mikayla to Will, noting the towels that had been discarded on the floor and the pile of wet clothing at the bottom of the stairs. He clicked his tongue as he slowly unwrapped a piece of his favorite mint chewing gum. Since giving up smoking two years before, chewing gum had become a staple in everything he did. Right at that moment, he longed for a cigarette, but instead, he slipped the gum between his lips and chomped noisily. He slipped the overcoat off and hung it on the guardrail to the upstairs of the house. The officer who accompanied him did the same.

  Inspector Harrison moved into the living room leaving the police officer next to the door. In some cases, this would have been to prevent the suspect from escaping. In this case, it was just habit. Inspector Harrison knew Mikayla Knight wasn’t going anywhere; she just didn’t seem the type to have committed this type of crime, especially now that he had looked further into her background and saw her squeaky clean record and spoken with her superiors at Georgetown. He couldn’t believe that she would kill the king of a foreign country and then murder the resident preservationist, plus knock herself unconscious. The pieces didn’t fit.

  The inspector settled himself in one of the chairs facing the couch, crossing one leg over the other. He watched as Mikayla moved carefully back to her seat on the couch; her legs and hands were shaking regardless of how much she tried to stop the shaking. Prince William seated himself on the arm of the couch beside her, his hand gently massaging her neck. He found it interesting that the heir to the Amor throne would involve himself with a murder suspect, but then again, he didn’t really consider her a suspect. If he really thought about it, the prince was more of a suspect than she was.

  “Well, Inspector Harrison, what can we do for you this afternoon?” Will smiled across at the man who had the power to ruin the life of the person he loved the most. He was cordial, but there was a coolness in his voice and his demeanor that Harrison picked up on immediately.

  Harrison turned his attention from the prince to the young lady seated on the couch across from him. Her eyes were everywhere but his face. She picked nervously at a hangnail on one of her hands. There was worry in her eyes, eyes that had struck him as beautiful the first time he had had to look in to them and read her the charges that would be brought against her. Now, a week later, there was no progress in her case except for more evidence brought forth against her. Internally, he shook his head. Sometimes, he really hated his job.

  Inspector Harrison cleared his throat. “Doctor Knight, I apologize for interrupting you this afternoon, but I must ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.”

  Mikayla nodded, her eyes still moving about the room. She saw nothing except the face of the inspector, soft and understanding, and the face of the police officer, hard and unyielding. She swallowed and tried to focus on the face of the inspector, her mind continuously replaying the moment he had told her the charges to be brought against her. She tried for a tentative smile, but it came across as more of a grimace.

  “Doctor Knight, could you tell me where you were today between the hours of eleven o’clock and two o’clock in the afternoon.” He pulled from his Hershey chocolate brown suit coat a pen and a small notepad. He flipped to an empty page and prepared to take notes.

  Mikayla glanced up at Will and then back at the inspector. She cleared her throat. Her words trembled out. “We went downtown for lunch. After we had eaten, we wandered around taking in the sites along with the tourists. There was a concert in one of the parks.”

  The inspector jotted down her answer and then looked at her again. “Where did you eat lunch?”

  Mikayla chewed at her lip, her mind thinking of the name of one of the restaurants in the downtown area where lots of people might have sought refuge in the rain. Before she could speak, Will’s voice piped up. “We ate hotdogs from one of the vendors who had sought refuge under the tent where the concert was being held.” His fingers massaged the back of Mikayla’s neck, applying pressure, forcing her to smile again and nod slightly.

  Inspector Harrison skipped his pen across the paper, taking notes. He laid the notebook on his knee and capped his pen. He looked across at the couple on the couch, the intimacy obvious. “The reason I ask, Doctor Knight, is that someone broke into the museum today between those hours. One of our cars wandered by, just to check, and found the tape broken.” He held up a hand before Mikayla could speak. “Nothing was taken and nothing was disturbed. I was just wandering if you had remembered something from that day.”

  Mikayla shook her head. She held her hands out in a gesture of helplessness. “Not really, Inspector, except that Monsieur Dejeune was alive when I found him. He died in my arms right before I was knocked unconscious.”

  Inspector Dejeune nodded and wrote that down. He didn’t look up but continued to ask questions. “Doctor Knight, I am to understand that you were hired by the royal family to write the history of Amor. Was there anything that you discovered in your research that would lead someone to kill, or to want you out of the way”

  Mikayla looked up at Will, her eyes wide with nervousness and fear. Should she tell him? Should she reveal the search for the Eye of the Wolf? Will shook his head vaguely. “I’m not really sure, Inspector. I don’t really know what I found since I hadn’t synthesized it into anything coherent before it was stolen.”

  The inspector made noises as he wr
ote the information down. “And when again, Doctor Knight, was your research stolen?”

  Mikayla related the information to him, reliving her experience of climbing the hidden staircase that wound its way into the Secluded City. She answered his questions as calmly as she could knowing that the truth was the best answer even though she had already lied to him. She had been the one to break into the museum. She had committed a crime, but she hadn’t committed murder.

  Will watched and listened. His hand moving lightly over her back. To the inspector, he looked as if he were just listening, but inside his mind, everything that was said was recorded, remembered for later use. Questions formed inside of his mind, but he couldn’t ask those questions because it would have revealed to the inspector information that he wasn’t ready to reveal. There was more at stake here than he was ready to admit to himself.

  Inspector Harrison nodded his head and wrote a few more things down. Whether the prince and his lady friend had admitted it or not, he knew they were hiding things, but he also knew that she wasn’t guilty. Now, all he had to do was prove who was. He snapped the notebook closed and slipped it back into the pocket of his jacket. He slipped his raincoat back on. “Well, Doctor Knight, Your Royal Highness, I suggest you keep in touch. I believe you will be called before the judge before long, Doctor Knight. I hope we can resolve this before the anniversary ball. I would hate to disturb the celebrations by dragging one of our tourists before the court.”

  With a simple wave, Inspector Harrison and the police officer disappeared into the rain. Will closed the door smoothly behind him. He slipped onto the couch and wrapped his arms around Mikayla as sobs racked her, her body trembling against his. He whispered soothing words into her hair as his mind worked through the facts, seeking an answer and knowing what he would have to do.

  He blended into the shadows as he climbed the staircase carved in the stonewall surrounding the Secluded City. He melted into the darkness as a guard passed him, within a breath’s distance. Once the guard’s torch was beyond his reach, he moved on, steps silent on the stone. Tip-toeing along the parapet, he worked his way to the guard’s hut that overlooked the sea, a fire glowing brightly in the fireplace. Antonio Kankaredes’s shadow leaned against the wall in the dark.