IK3 (13 page)

was a possible location for a photo shoot.”

“A photo shoot?” Chloe asked.

Morgan smiled at her. “I model. Didn’t you know?”

“No, I didn’t. I guess I’m not surprised.”

“So where?” Alan asked with a grin. “One of the area lakes with a sandy

beach?”

Again, there was hesitation, then Morgan shook her head. “Actually, we went

out to Palo Pinto County near the place the Kincaid woman had. A Texas

magazine contacted my boss about doing a spread on the disappearances.

That country is so desolate they thought it would make a good backdrop.”

She turned to Chloe. “You might want to go out there. Since you’re a local

writer, maybe you could contribute something and get a by-line.”

Chloe looked puzzled and Gavin didn’t blame her. Morgan and Chloe weren’t

exactly best friends.

“I’ll be glad to take you,” Alan said.

“Thanks. Let me think about it.”

The conversation turned then to more trivial things and Gavin excused

himself, wanting to get back to his room, pour a shot of blood, and

contemplate what was going on beneath the surface of tonight’s

conversation. Something was off.

He made his way to the second floor and slid the bolt shut on his bedroom

door. Something shimmered in the moonlight that streamed in his window

and he didn’t need to turn on a switch to know what it was.

“It’s about time you got here,” he said to Nimue.

Nimue folded her transparent wings, floated into the armchair beside the

unlit fireplace and looked around. “Nice place. Sara never let me come here

with her.”

“Probably so you wouldn’t get into any mischief,” Gavin said grimly.

She blinked her kaleidoscope eyes at him innocently. “When have I ever

done that?”

“Please. I grew up watching you torment Merlin every chance you got.”

“Torment? The old coot kept telling me I couldn’t play with magic because

I’m a faerie! Particularly because I’m a girl faerie. Now how fair is that? He

let the elves and wood fauns do whatever they wanted.”

“If I remember correctly, they were limited to the forests.”

“Only because their maker, Cernunnos, wanted to keep his beings close.”

Nimue waved her hand dismissively. “I answer to the Lady of the Lake and

she is far more trusting.” She tilted her head to study Gavin. “You were one

of the few knights who could actually see me. I wonder if it was because of

your mother’s unusual abilities?”

His mother’s unique skills were still a sore point with Gavin, even after all

these years. Better to change the subject. “So what took you so long to get

here?”

Nimue shrugged. “I left Merlin’s cave the day before yesterday—”

“Merlin’s cave? What were you doing there?”

“A penance of sorts.” She grimaced. “The Lady thinks Merlin and I should let

by-gones be by-gones.”

“I imagine that is going over well.”

“He’s still his grumpy old self.” Nimue gave Gavin a pixie grin. “It’s even

worse since he has all that company.”

“Company? Merlin is a loner.”

“Not any more. Lancelot showed up with the spear and a girlfriend. Merlin

nearly had an apoplexy. He thought she was Guinevere. Then Tristan arrived

with the sword and his girlfriend too. The cave is getting a bit crowded, not

to mention all that testosterone that is floating around.”

“So that is where they have all disappeared to,” Gavin said thoughtfully. “No

wonder the police have had no leads. Why doesn’t Merlin send them back?”

“He would if he could. When Merlin cast the spell to bring the relics back to

him, he forgot to forestall the messengers. I told you he was an old fool.”

Gavin ignored the last remark, although he almost agreed with her. Merlin

had never liked him. “So they’re just stuck in the Otherworld?”

“ There’s some sort of time-lock on the portal between the worlds. It only

opens outward once a year on Beltane. But I wouldn’t say they’re stuck.

They spend most of their time in their bedchambers, if you get what I

mean.”

Gavin did. Lancelot had always been a ladies’ man. Tristan—whom he

assumed was the warlock—he didn’t know, except by the legend that had

grown up around him and Iseult, the wife of King Mark of Cornwall. Of

course, who knew if they were true? The myths around Lancelot and himself

certainly weren’t. “If they can’t leave, how can you?”

She looked indignant. “I’m a faerie!”

“And in typical flighty faerie fashion, you took almost three months to get

here.”

“Hey. Not my fault. I ended up taking a detour to Avalon.”

Gavin stared at her. “The Goddess summoned you?”

Nimue nodded, scattering silver and gold sparkles around her. “I could

hardly refuse, could I? We had tea.”

Tea. In Avalon. Trust Nimue to focus on something trivial like that. Gavin

frowned at her. “And what else?”

“Oh. Well, Brighid wasn’t quite ready for the Grail to be found yet. I think

she and Merlin may have had an argument about that. She didn’t really

say.”

“Would you get to the point?”

Nimue glared at him, her eyes spinning shades of purple, green and blue. “I

am getting to that. She changed the words to the next clue so you could find

the platter first.” Nimue slid her hand into the pocket of the spun-silk web

that was her gown and pulled out a piece of parchment. “Here. Have fun.”

Gavin unfolded the note. It was written in ancient Gaelic, but he wouldn’t

take him long to decipher it.

“I expect I’ll see you soon,” Nimue said.

When he looked up, she was gone and all he could hear was her laughter,

chiming softly in the air.

****

the next morning. The heavy drapes were drawn to block the sun, but she

could see they were both engrossed with two pieces of paper. “What’s that?”

Gavin started as Mr. Smith looked up and beamed. “We have the next clue!”

Chloe thought she heard Gavin moan. He didn’t want her to see it?

“Miss Whitney. Mr. Smith and I have some business to attend to. May I ask

why you came in here when the door was closed?”

She’d already decided that Gavin went all snooty-English on her when he

was keeping something under wraps. So—he didn’t want her to see the

letters or whatever they were. Well, reporters had tough skin.

“I was looking for Alan.”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” Mr. Smith said. “He called earlier and said he would

not be in today. Some business to attend to.”

“Has he mentioned how long it will take him to finish the book?” Gavin

asked.

Was he trying to divert her attention? Her reporter’s senses alerted even

more. “I don’t know,” she said and turned directly to Mr. Smith. “May I see

those?”

“No,” Gavin said at the same time that Mr. Smith nodded and handed the

two sheets to her.

This time she knew Gavin definitely groaned. He was also looking highly

annoyed. Geez. If this were finally the clue to finding that Celtic relic, you’d

think he’d welcome the idea that two—or in this case three—heads were

better than one.

Chloe looked down. The older piece of parchment was written in a language

she couldn’t read along with a drawing that looked like a line of triangle-

peaks. The other paper held what she assumed was a translation. She read

aloud:

Where gold glistens

In hidden terrain

There lies buried

An ancient remain

In the lee

By the sea

She furrowed her brows. “This is it? Who sent it?”

“Private messenger,” Gavin said.

“It came last night,” Mr. Smith added. “Thank goodness, Gavin was still up.”

A strange look crossed Gavin’s face before the impassive mask that he often

wore replaced it. Chloe tucked away the thought for future analysis. He was

being secretive again, but why?

“So how does this ‘clue’ give you an indication where to look?” she asked.

“It has to do with the Tarot,” Mr. Smith said somberly.

She frowned again. “What does fortune-telling have to do with this?”

“It’s not fortune-telling, my dear,” Mr. Smith answered. “Actually, the Tarot

is quite ancient and scientific. Michael explained it all to me—but I digress.”

He cleared his throat and steepled his fingers thoughtfully. Chloe was pretty

sure she was in for a lecture.

“The Tarot has four suites, just like a deck of cards, but they also correlate

to the elements of air, fire, earth, and water.” Smith looked at her

expectantly and she nodded. “The suite of Wands, or Spears, relates to ‘air’

and its cosmic position is in the East where dawn breaks. The spear was

found there with the clue ‘Dawn’s Gate’.”

Chloe glanced over at Gavin, wondering if he was believing any of this, but

his face was impassive. Lord, if the man didn’t send out all those

pheromones, she’d think he was part-Vulcan, like Spock.

“The Swords’ element is fire which represents the south or summer. The

sword was found in New Orleans.”

“And let me guess,” Chloe said. “The next direction is west?”

“Absolutely correct!” Mr. Smith beamed as if she had just solved a quantum

physics calculation. “It’s autumn and the sun sets in the west.” He leaned

forward over the desk excitedly. “The suite of Pentacles is symbolic of

anything round or flat like the platter!”

“Cool,” Chloe said, more to placate Mr. Smith and keep him from becoming

totally delusional. She could kind-of, sort-of get the analogy of autumn being

the sunset of life—her mother had been a hippie, after all—but she really

wasn’t sure about the rest. Gavin still sat in stony silence next to her. “Hey,”

she said suddenly, “don’t witches use pentacles when they do their thing?”

Gavin gave her a quick comprehending look and Chloe thought instantly of

Morgan. She was part of that Sisterhood circle. Heck, Gavin would probably

invite Morgan to help out on this.

“Indeed they do! Maybe we should ask Sara’s group to help us on this?” Mr.

Smith asked as though he’d read her mind.

“No,” Gavin said. “The fewer people who know what we’re looking for, the

better.”

Chloe certainly agreed with that, especially if meant Morgan was not

included. “Do we know what we’re looking for?” She almost flinched as Gavin

raised an eyebrow when she said ‘we’, but surprisingly, he didn’t address

that when he answered.

“There are pictures in ancient Gaelic books as to the relics. The spear was

made of oak, rowan and yew; the sword smelted out of a meteorite. The

platter is solid gold.”

Chloe stared at him. “Solid gold? No wonder you don’t want anyone else

finding it.”

Again, a strange look passed over Gavin’s face. “Its age is more important

than the metal, but it’s another reason I believe Mr.Smith is right in looking

toward the west to find it. The California Gold Rush took place in the mid-

1800’s. That drawing could represent mountains. Assuming that someone in

the Priory of Sion removed the artifacts from Oak Island after all the digging

started, it’s plausible that person took it to a place where gold was plentiful.

It could even be displayed openly in some places.”

“Just like Edgar Allen Poe’s The Purloined Letter,” Mr. Smith said.

An English major she wasn’t. But Poe always held a fascination for romantics

and she loved romance. “Leaving it out in full view where no one would think

to look?”

“Exactly,” Gavin said, actually looking somewhat impressed. “California is

loaded with Missions and museums, any of which could be displaying the

platter and have no idea of what they actually have.”

“Cool,” Chloe said, meaning it this time. “When do we leave?” She didn’t

wait for the inevitable “You aren’t going”. “Don’t even think to leave me

behind. I have great sleuthing abilities and I know how to ferret information

out of people. Besides, the police aren’t coming up with anything and I want

to do something to avenge Jake’s death. He was hanging around here

because the disappearances that had to do with the other relics. I can help.”

She glared at Gavin, waiting for him to defy her.

Instead, Gavin scrutinized her. At last, he sighed. “I doubt that you can

help, Miss Whitney, but I have reasons to think you might be in danger if I

left you behind. So, yes, you will be going with me.”

Shocked that he had acquiesced, it wasn’t until later that she wondered what

he had meant about her being in danger.

****

chardonnay that Lucifer poured for her at the hotel suite. “You did well, my

pet.”

Morgan shrugged nonchalantly, not wanting Adam to know just how lucky

she had been to overhear the conversation. “I suspected something when

Gavin and Smith closeted themselves in the library this morning. That stupid

reporter left the door ajar which made eavesdropping a cinch.”

“Did you manage to find out how the message was delivered?” Lucifer

asked.

“Gavin said it came by special messenger.”

Balor’s expression sharpened. “It wasn’t sent to Smith?”

“It didn’t seem to be.”

“That’s interesting.” Balor exchanged a look with Lucifer and Morgan

wondered what that meant. “It seems we have another player here.” He