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by Jayne Castle

  "You were already thinking about how to get rid of Fontana, weren't you? You never intended that he would be the boss for long. When you found the sector chart, you started to make your plans."

  "Patterson and I knew that we couldn't afford to let Fontana remain in the executive suite. He was too smart and too set on cleaning up the organization. It was only a matter of time before he uncovered our juice operation. The plan was to wait a few months before we made our move, however. We thought we had time, you see. We assumed that it would take a while before he became suspicious of certain matters."

  "Not to mention that the deaths of two Guild bosses in quick succession here in Crystal would have caught the attention of the other chiefs and the Chamber."

  "Precisely."

  "You must have been a trifle upset when you realized that not only did Fontana hit the ground running, he took my investigative reporting seriously."

  "Upset?" Harlan's voice rose. "I was stunned. Horrified. No one ever pays any attention to the Curtain. When I realized he had invited you to do an interview, I notified Patterson at once. We met in the Guild parking garage. He tried to take care of you before you even got to the office that day."

  "The car that almost ran me down."

  "Yes. Sadly, he missed you."

  "The next thing you knew, I was marrying Fontana."

  "He thought he could throw the mantle of the Chamber around you and provide you with some protection. He was right. If there had been even an ounce of suspicion that you had been killed by someone in the Crystal Guild, the Chamber would have torn the organization apart."

  "So when you decided to get rid of both Fontana and me, you had the Riders carry out the operation."

  "The gang does have its uses."

  "Because it has no obvious links to the Guild."

  "This is your own fault, you know," Harlan hissed. "I didn't think it would be necessary to get rid of you at first. With Patterson removed and unable to talk, I hoped that Fontana would be satisfied. But his latest plan is simply too much. My patience is exhausted. I am forced to act."

  "What are you talking about? What plan?"

  "Fontana made it clear that he intends to put you in charge of the Foundation."

  Sierra's intuition kicked in again. "You've been skimming money from the Foundation, haven't you?"

  "I have always looked upon the Foundation's assets as my private retirement fund. So much more lucrative than the usual Guild benefits. I knew that as soon as you took over, it would be only a matter of time before you discovered that someone had been embezzling for years."

  "Namely you."

  "It was just too much. I felt something snap inside me. All I could think of was getting rid of you."

  "Something snapped, all right. This is a really stupid plan. Fontana will figure out what you've done."

  "You said it, yourself, Miss McIntyre. No one ever suspects an accountant. Or an executive assistant, for that matter."

  She felt a little rush of psi. A few steps farther down she saw the faint green glow that marked one of the jagged tears in the tunnel walls. She knew very little about mag-rez guns, but the one thing she did know was that they did not function properly in the tunnels. Once she was through the hole in the quartz she would make a run for it.

  When she reached the bottom of the stairwell, she stepped out on a floor of packed earth and moved toward the glowing opening.

  "Stop," Harlan ordered.

  She halted a couple of feet away from the entrance.

  "What now?" she asked.

  "The mag-rez is useless with all the psi inside the tunnels." He put the gun into his pocket.

  Oh, yes, please. This was it, the chance she had been hoping for.

  She took a step back, preparing to leap through the opening into the catacombs.

  "From now on, I'll use this, instead," Harlan said.

  There was a flash of ultraviolet ghost light. A three-foot-wide beam of energy shimmered into existence directly in front of her. It was so close that the storm of psi stirred her hair. She moved back hurriedly.

  "The sixth generator," she said. "You had it all along."

  "This one belonged to Jenner. Now, into the tunnels, Ms. McIntyre. I want to make sure you go so far in that you cannot possibly find your way out."

  "Don't worry, I'll go into the tunnels without a fuss." She retreated toward the glowing entrance. "But I'm warning you, Fontana will find me."

  "No one escapes the catacombs without tuned amber, Ms. McIntyre. You won't be able to find your way out without it, and Fontana won't be able to locate you, because you don't carry amber. You have no use for it."

  She edged through the hole in the quartz. Relief, a sensation she had never expected to experience inside the catacombs, made her feel wired and jittery. Either Harlan had not seen the photo that Phil had taken on her wedding day, or else the little creep had failed to notice one very significant detail in the picture.

  Feeling much more confident now, she watched him come through the opening. The ultraviolet energy beam came first. She retreated a few steps, keeping as much distance as possible between herself and the dangerous psi ray.

  "Start walking, Ms. McIntyre," Harlan said.

  She took a step back and then another, trying not to look too eager. After all, as far as Harlan was concerned, he was sending her to a certain death. She did not want to exhibit any actual enthusiasm.

  "Go on, go on, move, you stupid woman." Harlan did something to the generator. The beam got stronger and larger. "Think of it as walking the plank."

  She retreated more quickly. There was a vaulted tunnel entrance to her right. Spinning on her heel, she turned and dove for it.

  "Wait, Where's your ring?" Harlan yelled. "Where's the damn ring you were wearing in that picture on the cover of the Curtain?"

  She heard his footsteps pounding down the adjoining corridor.

  "Come back here," Harlan screamed.

  "Oh, sure, like that's going to happen," she whispered.

  She ran harder, clutching her purse with the ring inside like the life preserver it was. The seal ring thai Fontana had given her on their wedding day was set with a large chunk of amber that simply had to be tuned. No self-respecting Guild man would carry the untuned variety. More to the point, no Guild boss would give his wife untuned amber. True, she didn't know how to use it to find her way out of the tunnels, but as long as she held on to it, Fontana would be able to find her.

  A dizzying maze of vaulted corridors stretched out before her. She chose one at random and ran flat-out.

  She did not want to think about the dangers of illusion traps and stray ghosts. She just kept going. Fleeing into the maze was her only chance.

  But when she risked a glance back over her shoulder, she saw the bobbing beam of ultraviolet energy rounding the corner. Harlan was somehow managing to keep track of her. Panic threatened her breathing. It wasn't supposed to work like that down here. Once you lost visual contact, you were lost, period. How was he keeping up with her?

  Unwittingly, Harlan answered her question.

  "You can't escape me," he shouted, coming toward her with the energy ray. "Jenner made sure that every Guild man was issued one of the new locaters, even those of us who work in the accounting department."

  So much for her brilliant plan to lose him. Her only hope now was to keep running. He was older than she was. Maybe he would tire sooner.

  Unfortunately, Harlan appeared to be in excellent physical condition. She turned several more corners but always, always, the ultraviolet beam followed a short time later.

  She almost missed the faint shadow in the doorway. It was barely perceptible. But it rezzed an alarm somewhere in her brain. What was it Fontana had said? The ambient psi light in the tunnels creates no natural shadows.

  She stopped, gasping for air and stared at the doorway. The slight shift in the light could easily have been a trick of her imagination, but her intuition told her otherwise. She was lo
oking at an illusion trap.

  There was only one way to lure Harlan into the snare. She hurled her purse, the ring inside, through the entrance into the chamber beyond. She was now without amber. If she lost sight of the purse, she was doomed.

  Never taking her eyes off the leather shoulder bag, she stepped back into the opening of a room directly behind her.

  She heard Harlan's hard breathing and the soft thud of his shoes. Then the beam of ultraviolet appeared.

  "You bitch," Harlan gasped. "You crazy, interfering, stupid bitch of a woman."

  He came into view. He had the generator in one hand and a locater in the other. His attention was fixed on the locater's screen. If he looked up and to his right, he would see her standing in the doorway. But if he followed the locater, he would look to the left and see her purse on the floor just inside the chamber.

  Harlan looked to the left.

  She did not know what he was thinking at that moment, but it was obvious that he was winded and desperate. He was not paying attention to small details like faint shadows where there should not be any. Whatever the case, he was unable to resist the bait.

  He went through the chamber doorway, triggering the trap. Sierra did not see anything; the energy released by the illusion snare was invisible to the naked eye. But Harlan stiffened violently as though he had stumbled into a ghost.

  She knew that the sound of his horrified scream would follow her into her nightmares for a long time to come. She clamped her hands over her ears and continued to stare hard at her purse.

  A few seconds later the high, keening wail of anguish ended abruptly. Harlan fell, unconscious, to the floor.

  She waited a few tense seconds and then stepped over him to collect the handbag. She reached inside, took out the black and amber ring, and clutched it tightly in her fingers.

  Then she started to shake.

  Chapter 44

  A SHORT TIME LATER SHE WAS STILL ON HER FEET, WALKING tensely back and forth in front of the chamber, hugging herself and concentrating on her breathing, when Elvis appeared.

  He scuttled toward her down the glowing corridor, white cape flying. She heard the faint, familiar whine of a sled engine behind him. The vehicle rounded the corner a few seconds later. Fontana was at the wheel. Ray was in the passenger seat.

  "Elvis." She swept him up into her arms and buried her face in his tatty fur. "I thought you guys would never get here."

  Fontana brought the sled to a stop, vaulted out, and came toward her with long, swift strides.

  "Are you all right?" he demanded.

  The harshness of his voice made her smile a little. She understood. This was the way it had been when they had fled into the rain forest, and he had forced himself to remain on his feet until he got her to safety. A successful Guild boss had to know how to clamp a mag-steel lid on his emotions so that he could prioritize.

  "Yes." She blinked back the tears of relief that filled her eyes. "I'm fine now that you're here."

  "You scared the living ghost light out of me," he said. "Promise me you won't ever do anything like that again."

  "Wasn't planning to make a habit of it."

  He caught her in his arms and pulled her hard against him. Elvis, squashed between the two of them, squeaked in protest, wriggled free, and scurried up to sit on Sierra's shoulder. Satisfied that all was well, he preened his ruffled fur.

  "I was so damned afraid," Fontana said into her hair.

  "How did you find Elvis?"

  "He found us down here in the tunnels. We were all headed in the same direction. He must have some kind of psychic link with you."

  Ray prodded Harlan's body. "What happened to Ostendorf?"

  She turned in the circle of Fontana's arm and looked down at Harlan. "I was running from him. He was using a locater to track me. I saw a shadow in a doorway and remembered what Fontana had told me about illusion traps. I had the ring in my purse."

  Fontana's hand tightened on her shoulder. "You threw your purse into that chamber to lure him inside, didn't you?"

  "Yes."

  His jaw tensed. "You tossed away your only amber? Damn it, Sierra, if you had lost sight of it—"

  "Take it easy," Ray said to Fontana. "It's an old hunter trick, and you know it. Sure, it's risky, but it wasn't like she had another option, now, was it?"

  Fontana pulled Sierra more snugly against his side. "No, it's not."

  Ray grinned. "Looks like the Crystal Guild has a brand-new legend, and the Curtain has another scoop."

  Chapter 45

  "HOW DID YOU HANDLE IT?" FONTANA ASKED QUIETLY.

  She knew what he meant. "The claustrophobia?"

  "Must have been bad."

  They were on her apartment balcony overlooking the Green Gate Tavern, glasses of wine in hand. Elvis perched on the railing, munching on the remains of the pizza they had all shared earlier. He still wore his white cape and dark glasses.

  Sierra drank some of her wine, thinking back to the sensations she had experienced that afternoon. "Running from Harlan's ultragenerator was certainly a distraction. But later, after he triggered the illusion trap, I couldn't seem to stop shaking. So I just kept walking up and down that hall past the chamber. I knew it wouldn't be long before you came for me. That's what I kept telling myself." She paused. "That's how I got through it."

  "It was my fault. Should have figured out sooner that Ostendorf was involved."

  She rounded on him, outraged. "That's ridiculous. You moved amazingly fast as it was, taking down the drug operation and cornering Patterson within days of getting into the executive suite. Harlan Ostendorf covered his tracks well. It's amazing that you figured out what he was up to at all, let alone realized that he had kidnapped me today. I think you must have a pretty strong streak of intuition, yourself."

  "I should have understood immediately that he was the only one who could have known about the sector chart in the journal."

  "Listen up, Mr. Guild Boss. If you intend to make it in the business, you're going to have to learn when to beat yourself up over a perceived failure and when not to beat yourself up over one. What happened today was not your fault. Get over it."

  He went still for a moment. Then his mouth twitched.

  "Maybe you've got a future as an executive career coach," he said.

  She wrinkled her nose. "No, that wouldn't be any fun. I've met a few executives, and let me tell you, none of them take direction well. You're a perfect example."

  "You're probably right. Stick to the do-gooder gig." He rested both forearms on the railing, wineglass cradled between his hands. "It's definitely your forte."

  "What about the six ultragenerators that you recovered?"

  "They are going straight into the vault at the research lab."

  The old, familiar irritation spiked within her. "In other words, they have become official, classified Guild secrets."

  "Damn straight. What's more, if I see so much as a word about those generators on the front page of the Curtain, I am going to be one very pissed-off Guild boss."

  "I've got four words for you. Freedom. Of. The. Press."

  "Trust me, you do not want news of those weapons getting out to the general public," he said quietly.

  "Is that right? And just what, exactly, are the lab people going to do with them?"

  "Deactivate them."

  She blinked. "Really?"

  "It's already been done. I oversaw the process this afternoon."

  That stopped her cold. "Good heavens. How?"

  "Turns out dissonance energy is still dissonance energy, no matter where it comes from on the spectrum or how it's generated. The old rule still applies."

  "What old rule?"

  "Takes a ghost to kill a ghost."

  "I don't understand."

  "Remember how I was able to punch a hole through that beam when we ran the Rider ambush?"

  "Of course."

  "It gave me the idea that maybe an ultragenerator could be burned out if it w
as confronted with too much ghost light. So I called in all of the Council members as witnesses. We put the generators into a quartz-walled chamber underground and arranged them so that the beams would collide with each other. Then we activated them and ran like hell."

  "Oh, my gosh."

  "There was an impressive explosion." Fontana smiled. "But afterward we were left with half-a-dozen burned-out generators. As far as the lab techs can determine, the mechanisms were thoroughly and permanently fried. Useless."

  She thought about that. "You know, since the story has a happy ending, it really would make a terrific scoop for the Curtain."

  "No."

  "Fontana, if you intend to move the Crystal Guild into the mainstream, you're going to have to get past this obsession with secrecy."

  "No," he repeated.

  "You do realize," she said coolly, "that there will be more dangerous artifacts coming out of the rain forest as time goes on?"

  "We'll worry about it when it happens."

  "The Guilds won't be able to keep all of them secret."

  "We'll see."

  "Fontana—"

  "You know, it's been a long day. Would you mind very much if we put off arguing about Guild secrets until some future date?"

  "Oh, all right. But don't think I'm going to just up and forget about this."

  "Never crossed my mind."

  For a time they did not speak. The silence between them grew, but it was not tense or awkward, Sierra thought. It felt good to stand here with Fontana, sharing the night with him. They drank their wine. Elvis got down off the railing and helped himself to another slice of pizza.

  After a while, Fontana stirred a little.

  "This afternoon Kay told me that Ostendorf got you to go out to the limo by telling you that I had invited you to meet me at the Amber Club," he said.

  "Mmm-hmm."

  "She said she was sure that I was going to propose a Covenant Marriage over lunch."

  "Kay's a bit of a romantic."

  "She was wrong about me planning to propose over lunch."