by Kai Meyer
“TABULA,” she whispered sharply. “That’s all that interests me.”
“You’ve even inherited your grandmother’s impatience.” Trevini managed a thin smile, but there was still terror in his eyes. “It seems that the emerald tablet of Hermes was discovered in a cave around the year 300 BC. It isn’t mentioned in writing until much later, and the first Latin translation comes from the Middle Ages. No one knows what language it was first written in—maybe Greek or Arabic.”
“What does it say?”
“Some say the texts are oracles; others describe them as instructions. There are fifteen verses in all, from the beginning of the universe to the key to eternal life. ‘That which is above is as that which is below, and that which is below is as that which is above.’ And: ‘Thus thou hast the glory of the whole world; therefore let all obscurity flee before thee.’ And finally: ‘Therefore am I called Hermes the Thrice Great, having the three parts of the philosophy of the whole world.’”
Trevini was now talking like a man in delirium, although he still gave Rosa the impression of being alert, if agitated. But whatever the words might mean, they told her that the attorney had thought much harder about the mysteries of TABULA than he had previously admitted. He knew the words on that damn tablet by heart.
“And you think that the organization takes its name from this emerald tablet?” she asked.
“Tabula Smaragdina Hermetis,” he said, for the third time.
“But who’s behind it? Who are these people?”
“Researchers from all over the world. Biochemists, experts in genetic technology, anthropologists—who knows? They must have unlimited financial means, and they think that they’re above the law.”
“You know what that sounds like, don’t you?”
He let out his breath with a scornful sound. “The Mafia is something quite different. It has never made any secret of its aims. It wanted, and still wants, nothing but power and money. But TABULA? Why are they misusing Arcadians for secret experiments? How do they know about the dynasties at all?” Trevini slowly shook his head. “Anyone who tries following that trail always comes up against a wall. Whether in libraries or on the internet—you never get far.”
“No connection with the Arcadian dynasties?”
“A few vague hints, that’s all.”
She succeeded in keeping her inner cold at bay as long as what he was saying drowned out her feelings. She would have rejected it all as nonsense, stupid stuff that had nothing to do with her or Alessandro. But weren’t there other answers lying far back in classical antiquity? What about the ancient statues on the seabed? The myth of the fall of Arcadia? Did the existence of this group go back as far as the history of Arcadia itself? Much of what Alessandro had told her about the origin of the dynasties was just as crazy as what Trevini was saying now. The Arcadian king Lycaon, who was turned into a cross between a man and an animal by angry Zeus, father of the gods. This Hermes Trismegistos sounded as if he came out of the same kind of myth.
“These hints—what do they say?” she asked.
“According to many sources Hermes, as I said, was the god of the Greek shepherds. His legendary magic staff, the caduceus, is an olive branch with two snakes twining around it. The myth says that this caduceus came from the land of Arcadia. Look it up. Try Google. What you find will confirm what I’m saying.”
“So?”
“The story goes that the god Hermes was given a staff, and he wandered in the lonely mountains of Arcadia with it. There he came upon two snakes locked in fierce combat. To settle their quarrel, he separated them with his staff, and they were reconciled. Since then the double snake has been the alchemical symbol for peace, new hope, new life. But in the legend of Hermes, the two snakes stand for the making of peace in Arcadia.”
“Which even if it were true all those thousands of years ago wouldn’t interest anyone today.” Rosa was trying not to turn back entirely into human form. If her snake gaze had some kind of hypnotic power that made Trevini talk, she wanted to hold it for as long as possible.
“There’s something else.” Trevini’s chin was trembling. “The staff made into a caduceus by the two snakes had been given to Hermes by another god. By the god of light—by Apollo. Apollonio.”
“So someone still knows the legend.”
“Because of the myth, snakes always had a special meaning for the ancient Arcadians, long before Zeus cursed Lycaon and his subjects. But did that still hold true after the transformation and death of the king? Costanza, at least, was convinced that far more respect was owed to the snakes than the other Arcadian dynasties pay them today. It seems that even in the lifetime of Lycaon, the Lamias wanted to seize power. It’s said that they toppled him from the throne of Arcadia in order to rule the land and the other dynasties themselves.”
“Which would explain why the other families hate the Alcantaras so much,” she commented. And then she began to see where all this was going. “Is that what Costanza was after? Did she want ancient history to repeat itself?” Rosa was gasping for air, because only now did she realize just how crazy her grandmother had been. “Did she stage the Hungry Man’s arrest so that she could fix his downfall and restore the old power of the Lamias?”
“At last you’re beginning to understand.”
“But that’s sick!”
“Every time a priest says Mass, he declares that the wine has turned into the blood of Christ. Hundreds of thousands of Muslims go on pilgrimage to Mecca every year. And how about the traditional tales of the Buddha and what he did? Good heavens, even scholars aren’t immune to that kind of thing when they speak of an author called Homer, when they can be fairly sure that no one of that name ever lived and wrote. Many people say that even Shakespeare is just an invention! People cling to myths, false and true alike. Why would the Arcadians be any exception? They’re all saying that the Hungry Man is about to return, as if he weren’t just a leader of Cosa Nostra but really the mythical being he’s named himself after.”
In pain, Trevini tried moving again. His face was distorted as he went on talking. Perhaps he guessed that this knowledge would die with him if he didn’t pass it on.
“Costanza believed in the truth behind the myths, and she was convinced of the Lamias’ claim to power. If she had to enter into a pact with a man like Pantaleone to get it, then she would accept that. Nothing could make her give up the idea that she, or one of her female descendants, would rise to power over all the dynasties again. As in the old days of ancient Arcadia.”
“What about the serum?” she asked. “Does that come from TABULA, like the furs?”
“Presumably.”
“I’ve had it analyzed. It was made using blood that has both human and animal characteristics. But we Arcadians are either one or the other, never both at once.”
“Hybrid blood,” he whispered.
She obviously knew less about that than everyone else. But what had she expected? She had entered the world of the Arcadians only four months ago—she had a lot to catch up on.
“Who are these hybrids?” she asked.
“Mongrels. A cross between humans and animals. Arcadians who didn’t complete their last transformation in one direction or the other.”
“Do you know any?”
“Me?” Trevini laughed bitterly. “All I know, I know from Costanza. And I worked out a few things for myself. I’ve told you everything, Rosa. We’ve reached the end.”
“Why did you send Valerie to me? That whole story about how she ran away at the airport—”
“It’s the truth. My men”—he corrected himself—“or rather the contessa’s men, now…they were supposed to put her on a flight to New York. But she got away from them. A clever little thing, your friend. Manipulative, too. Who knows, maybe we could all learn from her.”
“She was hardly in any state to stand on her own feet,” she objected. “Your interrogations didn’t pass over her without a trace, avvocato. How could she have run away fr
om men like those bodyguards out there?”
There was genuine surprise in Trevini’s face. “She was in good health when she left here. A little weak, maybe, but in perfectly good health.”
Rosa’s eyes narrowed, and they were no longer the eyes of a snake. She had shifted back without being aware of it, feeling no more than a little tingling and itching. “When Valerie turned up at the palazzo yesterday, she was totally exhausted.”
Now that the spell of her snake gaze was broken, the malicious sparkle that made her so furious returned to Trevini’s smile. “Then either something happened to her on the way, or she’s been acting a part for your benefit.”
“How could she have—” But her words died away, because she already knew the answer. “Iole would never have let Valerie in if she hadn’t been in such poor condition. But as it was…”
“A cunning little thing; I said so. You didn’t simply leave her behind in the palazzo, did you? Maybe even without anyone to guard her?”
Rosa rubbed her face. She took her cell phone out of her pocket. It was switched off, and she had to type in the code. Then she called the number of the palazzo.
Trevini bent his head. “No one answering, I suppose?”
“Keep your mouth shut.”
“Let’s hope nothing has happened…”
Impatiently, she put the phone away again and turned to the steps.
“You’re not going to kill me?” he asked her retreating back, and he sounded genuinely shocked. No longer afraid. Only surprised.
“No.”
“But you can’t help yourself, Rosa. Don’t you feel that? Lamias are not merciful beings. Lamias never forgive. Costanza knew that.”
She went up the stairs, leaving him lying there helpless in the empty pool. “I will also make sure that di Santis doesn’t touch you. You’re not worth the trouble, avvocato.”
“Di Santis?” He laughed quietly. “She’s only a peon. Yours or mine, what does that matter? Listen to your nature, Rosa. It’s in your blood. Why resist it? You are what you are. And so you’ll sign my death sentence, if not now then later.”
She climbed up over the edge of the pool. “We’ll see about that.”
Trevini’s voice followed her, and now there was something in it that went beyond bitterness. “Your grandmother collected the skins of Arcadians. Your father—well, we’ve both seen what he’s capable of. And what does that say about you, Rosa? What does that make you?”
She closed the door behind her, but his words went on echoing in her mind. So she was glad when her cell phone rang once she was in the white-tiled corridor. With shaking fingers, she took it out. “Iole?”
“It’s me.”
“Alessandro! Thank God.”
“Where are you? I’ve tried calling a thousand times.” He sounded harassed. “Bad news. Michele isn’t in New York anymore. He flew to Italy yesterday.”
She stopped with the cell phone pressed to her ear.
“Michele is here, Rosa—in Sicily.”
A DEATHLY SILENCE
AN HOUR AND A half later, Rosa was racing through the twilight in the BMW. She was just turning off the expressway when the cell phone on the passenger seat rang.
“I’m at the driveway now,” said Alessandro. The sound of his engine died away in the background.
“Then wait for me there.”
“No sign of the guards at the gate.”
“Shit.”
“I’ll take a closer look.”
“No!” she said firmly. “Too dangerous.”
“What about Iole? She’s alone up there.”
“Your men are there. They’re—”
Alessandro interrupted her. “If Michele’s managed to eliminate the guards at the gate, he may well have dealt with Gianni and the other two in the palazzo as well.”
She turned up the heating in the car. “Do you think Michele’s on his own? Apart from Valerie.”
“She makes him much stronger than any bunch of trigger-happy killers. He has someone on the inside. The others in the palazzo weren’t expecting that. Nor was I.”
She could have kicked herself for failing to lock Valerie in. Suppose Val’s fear of dogs was only another ruse?
“I’m such an idiot,” she whispered, before she realized what he had just said. But before she could ask any more questions, he admitted, “There’s something else.”
“Damn it, Alessandro…”
“I was not lying to you when I said I had nothing to do with the murders of Mattia, Carmine, and the others. I swear that’s the truth.” He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “But the attempt on Michele’s life, the killer that Guerrini sent to New York—”
“So Trevini was right.”
“I meant it to fail. I intended for Michele to follow the trail back to me and face me in person, instead of hunting my girlfriend through Central Park. That was a cowardly thing to do.”
“You planned it all? For him to turn up here?”
“Not at the palazzo, but in Sicily, yes. That’s why I wanted Gianni and the others to be with you. I couldn’t know that Valerie was working with Michele. And would still be on his side, even after Mattia’s death…I should have factored that into the equation. What a mess I’ve made.”
She could have shaken him—but despite all reason she was moved. “You should have told me.”
“I didn’t want you to have any more to do with it. So that you could put the whole thing behind you. And I will kill Michele, one way or another. I’d have liked to do it on my own terms, that’s all. The bastard foiled me by planting Valerie on you.”
“He isn’t as clever as all that,” she objected. “I think she really did run away from him, or she wouldn’t have stolen his cell phone. But after she got away from Trevini’s men at the airport, I guess she didn’t know what to do next. She must have called Michele again. And of course he’d have known right away how he could use her.”
Alessandro sighed. “I’m sorry, Rosa.”
In spite of everything her longing for him, for his touch, was like a physical pain. “Val fooled us both.”
“I’m going to put an end to this now. Tonight.”
“I’ll be with you in half an hour. We’ll go up there together.”
But his car door was already closing. She heard his footsteps crunch on the gravel.
“Alessandro!”
“There’s another car here at the gate,” he said. “A green Panda. With one of those cards lying on the dashboard that doctors display so that they can leave their vehicles in no-parking areas.”
“It must belong to the doctor I called for Valerie.”
There was a metallic click.
“Do you know him?” asked Alessandro.
“Not well. He comes from Piazza Armerina. He’s kind of…a friend of the family, you might say.”
“He’s lying in the trunk of his car, shot dead. Michele must have stopped him on the way. Wait a minute…”
“What is it?”
“I’m just looking around. There are at least two trails of blood here leading into the bushes beyond the gateway. The gate itself is open…the control box has been destroyed. And there are bullet holes.”
The dry, hilly landscape was racing past her windows in the dim light. It would be a few miles before she saw more trees. Now and then headlights came toward her, and she was dazzled by another pair in her rearview mirror. Her eyes were reacting more sensitively to bright light than usual.
“Okay,” said Alessandro. “I think I know what happened now.”
“Are the men dead?”
“Yes. He hauled their bodies behind the bushes. When they realized that the man in the car wasn’t a doctor they must have tried to lock the gate again, and someone destroyed the control box.”
“The gate wouldn’t have kept anyone out! And there isn’t even fencing on both sides of it.”
“There’s a slope, though. And trees. Like it or not, Michele must have had to go a mile up to
the palazzo on foot. And I’ll have to do the same.”
“Wait until I get there, and we’ll go together.”
“No, this is my fault, and I’m not letting Michele do anything else to you.”
“Our chances are much better if there are two of us.”
“Rosa, listen to me very carefully. Stay exactly where you are now, and wait until I call you again.”
“Oh, sure!” she said. “You bet I will.”
“Michele wants to take his revenge on me. That’s why he means to kill you first.”
“He’d better start a club with the Hungry Man: the Kill Rosa to Punish Alessandro Club.” She was making a great effort to hide the unsteadiness in her voice. “There should be twelve of my guards somewhere around the place. What about them?”
“Can’t see anyone.”
“But Michele can’t have eliminated them all on his own.”
“The Hundinga have stopped howling.”
“Maybe they left.”
“Maybe.”
Her hands clutched the steering wheel. “But they didn’t, did they?”
“No,” he said. “They’re sure to be roaming around here somewhere. And if they’re on their way to the palazzo, or there already, then your people won’t—” He let out a low curse.
“What?” she called into her phone, in too much mental confusion to get out a complete sentence. Her fears for him were growing by the minute.
There was a sharp explosion in the background.
“Are those shots?” She tasted iron on the tip of her tongue.
“Farther up the slope,” he said. “Near the palazzo, I think.”
“I’ll call the judge. Quattrini can send reinforcements and—”
“The police? How long do you think it will take them to get here? An hour? Two hours? Forget it. And when this is over, you’ll be glad there were no police here turning the whole palazzo upside down.”
“I don’t care whether—”
“Yes, you do. Well, you should. We’re capi. People like us have no choice but to take charge ourselves.”
“If any harm comes to Iole—”