Burning Lamp (38 page)
The fact that Gibson did not appear to be having any problems with the atmosphere inside the compound was interesting, Adam thought. Like most of the human population, he seemed comfortable in the vicinity of green quartz.
Adam looked at Marlowe. “I think I’ve had enough suspense for one day. Let’s have it. Why did you drag me out here?”
She visibly steeled herself, squaring her shoulders.
“The Burning Lamp was stolen from the Arcane Society vault sometime between midnight and seven A.M. this morning,” she said.
“I’ll be damned. Arcane managed to lose the lamp. Again.”
She blinked. Her eyes narrowed. “I thought you’d be a little more pissed off. I realize that your family entrusted the lamp to the Society after the Era of Discord.”
“Obviously a mistake.”
She ignored that. “I went to the scene this morning immediately after I was notified of the breach in security. It took a while to even figure out what was missing.”
“No offense, but the museum’s cataloging system sounds like it’s in need of an overhaul, as well as its security system.”
“Yes, it does,” she agreed, her tone very neutral. “However, from what I was able to see in the way of dreamprints at the scene I’m sorry to say that it was evidently an inside job.”
“Yeah? I’m amazed that you didn’t leap to the conclusion that I was the thief. According to the legend, only a direct descendant of Nicholas Winters can access the energy of the lamp. There’s no reason for anyone else to steal it.”
“I am aware of that,” she said. “The possibility that you were the one who took the lamp did occur to me. Your dreamprints do not match those of the thief, however. As I said, all indications are that whoever took the artifact was a member of the museum staff.”
“You’re that good?”
“I’m that good.” There was a note of professional pride in her voice. “I believe I mentioned that even though I’m not a chaos-theory talent, I do have certain skills that are of use in an investigation.”
“Now that you’ve seen my dreamprints, you can eliminate me from your list of suspects. Is that it?”
She cleared her throat. “There are other possibilities.”
“Sure. Maybe I bribed or coerced someone on the museum staff to steal the lamp for me.”
“That did occur to me, yes. Which is why you are still at the top of my list of suspects, Mr. Winters.”
“I’m honored, of course. But there’s one small flaw in your theory of the crime.”
She studied him with her midnight eyes. “I’m sure you’ll explain that to me.”
“The Burning Lamp in the Arcane Museum was a fake.”
She looked stricken. He realized that he had managed to shock her. The knowledge bothered him. She shouldn’t have been quite so stunned. After all, it wasn’t the first time Arcane had found itself with a fake lamp.
“Are you serious?” she said.
“My family has never trusted Arcane to take care of the lamp. When the Era of Discord ended, my multi-great-grandfather John Cabot Winters made certain that the Society got a very nice replica for their collection.”
“Your ancestors here on Harmony had a fake made?”
“It was one of many my family has been obliged to commission over the years. Whenever the damn thing goes missing, which happens periodically, Arcane starts breathing down our necks. Sooner or later, we give the Society a fake lamp, and that usually satisfies everyone for another century or so.”
“You mean until the Winters Curse strikes again,” she said.
“Don’t tell me you believe in family curses.”
“No, but do I believe in genetics. Several centuries ago, Nicholas Winters managed to fry his own DNA with the Burning Lamp, and once in a while the results show up in one of his male descendants.”
“That’s the legend, all right,” he agreed.
“Are you telling me that you have the real lamp in your possession?”
“No,” he said. “It’s gone missing again.”
Comprehension lit her eyes. “Good grief, now I understand. You’re looking for it, aren’t you? That explains the rumors among the antiquities dealers in the Old Quarter. I’ve been picking them up for a couple of weeks now. In fact, I was getting set to launch an investigation.”
“What rumors?” he asked, trying to buy a little time.
“Some of the dealers have been making very discreet inquiries about an Old World artifact. Word on the street is that a high- ranking Guild man was willing to pay well for it. According to the gossip, the relic possesses paranormal attributes.”
“Why were you going to investigate?”
She moved one hand slightly. “Any artifact from Earth that is connected to the paranormal is automatically of interest to Arcane. Combine that with a mysterious collector who is highly placed in the Guild, and you better believe that J-and-J is going to get curious.”
He stilled, aware of the extremely treacherous footing beneath his feet.
“What makes you think I’m the one searching for the lamp?” he asked.
“When did the nightmares and hallucinations start?”
The question blindsided him. She knew about the nightmares and waking dreams.
“What are you talking about?” he said.
“I can see the signs of some ghastly dream energy in your prints,” she said. “According to the legend, nightmares and hallucinations are the first signs of the change. I think you’ve been on the trail of the real lamp a lot longer than I have. Time is running out for you, isn’t it?”
“Okay, Marlowe Jones,” he said. “Now you’ve got my full attention.”
She walked forward to stand directly behind him.
“If there is one thing about the Winters legend that appears to be true, it’s that the Winters male who inherits the problem—”
“We in the Winters clan call it a family curse.”
She ignored that. “The descendant of Nicholas Winters who inherits the genetic twist needs a strong dreamlight reader to help him find and work the lamp.”
All of his senses were jacked now.
“You know,” he said, “this whole scene seems just a little too good to be true. Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on here, Miss Jones?”
“I’ve explained. I asked you to meet me here today because I assumed you had arranged for the theft of the lamp. Now I find out that you evidently didn’t steal it, which raises all sorts of other problems. But right now we need to concentrate on the first priority.”
“Which is?”
“I can see that you need the lamp,” she said. “If that’s true, then you need me.”
“You’re from J-and-J, and you’re here to help, is that it?”
“I don’t have time to play games, and neither do you. You need me or someone like me.” She broke off, frowning a little. “Wait a second, is that it? You’ve found yourself another dreamlight reader? Do you think she’s strong enough to handle the lamp’s energy? Because if she isn’t, you’re both going to be taking a huge risk when you try to fire up the artifact.”
Before he could respond, a small spark of light flashed at the very edge of his vision. It came from deep within the dense stand of trees outside, just beyond the barren perimeter that surrounded the quartz walls. He was vaguely aware that Gibson was growling in his ear.
His reflexes took over. He got an arm around Marlowe’s waist and propelled them both out of the doorway.
He tried to take the brunt of the hard landing on the stone floor, but he heard a pained
Oomph
from Marlowe and knew that she was going to be bruised.
Lucky she was wearing a lot of leather,
he thought.
Oomph
from Marlowe and knew that she was going to be bruised.
Lucky she was wearing a lot of leather,
he thought.
The glint of a studded collar flying past his field of vision told him that Gibson had leaped nimbly off his shoulder and alighted nearby.
The bullet seared a path straight through the gate. As soon as it entered the heavy psi environment inside the compound, it became wildly erratic, quickly lost velocity, and dropped harmlessly onto the floor. The crack of the rifle seemed to echo forever in the high mountains around the ruins.
Adam looked down at Marlowe, intensely aware of her soft, sleek body under the leather. Some of her hair had come free. She gazed up at him through a veil of dark amber tendrils.
“You’re right,” he said. “I do need you, and I need the lamp. But there’s this complication.”
“Someone is trying to kill you?”
“You noticed. I wasn’t too worried about the problem. Figured it came with the territory when I took over the Frequency Guild. But now I have to wonder if maybe I’ve been keeping an eye on the wrong people. Maybe Arcane has decided to take me out before I go rogue.”
Other books
Navy SEAL Survival by Elle James
Angus and Sadie by Cynthia Voigt
Warrior of Scorpio by Alan Burt Akers
Ground Floor: Toys and Games by Jorja Lovett
Hidden in the Heart by Beth Andrews
The Perilous Journey by Stewart, Trenton Lee
Never Too Late by Watters, Patricia
Fixing Justice by Halliday, Suzanne
The Namesake by Fitzgerald, Conor
Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology) by Alyssa Rose Ivy
