Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Wrath of Isis Page 22

  “Thank you.” Becky turned to go but then stopped herself. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard about some Russians turning up around here?”

  “There’s a whole bunch of them coming in for the trade minister’s visit. Why?”

  “A couple of them harassed my friend last night. Shook her up pretty bad. They’re going to try it again.”

  “What’s your friend’s name? I can put her into protective custody.”

  Becky nearly blurted out her own name, but then stopped herself. If Captain Donovan knew Becky was friends with the Scarlet Knight, it would be easy enough for her to figure out who was really underneath the red armor. “I can’t say. But if you hear anything—”

  “I’ll keep my ear to the ground. Anything else?”

  “No, I think that covers it.” There was an awkward moment as Becky tried to think of an exit line. Finally she just said, “I’d better go.” Her cheeks warm beneath the visor, Becky started back up the hill. When she reached the top, she could see the police captain still looked in her direction to watch her. Becky turned away to get back to work.

  Chapter 25

  It seemed to take days before they reached the last of the pigeonholes again. As soon as they did, Ms. Chiostro threw herself to the ground and sobbed. They had found nothing at all that could change her back.

  She tried to raise her right arm to wipe her tears, but her left moved instead to smack her in the cheek. Her scream of frustration echoed throughout the cave; even with her distorted hearing she could understand it.

  She felt Red’s hand around her shoulder. He turned her head to face him. “It’s all right,” he wrote in the address book. “I’m sure it’ll wear off soon.”

  She shook her head—in the opposite direction she intended of course. She would be stuck like this for the rest of her life. Sylvia would have to tend to her as if she were an invalid. Her poor sister who’d already lost a hand to Isis would have to nursemaid Ms. Chiostro: feed her, dress her, and probably even walk her to the bathroom. She cried harder at this grim vision of the future.

  Red pushed the address book and compact back into her vision. “We’ll find a way. I promise.”

  She seized the book to furiously scribble a response. “No we won’t! I’ll be stuck this way forever! I’m such an idiot!”

  He shook his head. “You’re not an idiot,” he wrote. “I think you’re the greatest witch other than Glenda.”

  “Really?”

  “Your work on the potions is amazing. I think seventy-five percent of the ones in my database were discovered by you.”

  She blushed at this compliment. For the first three hundred years of her career—really until she met Alejandro—she had spent much of her time on her potions. She had worked hard on them to feel useful, especially after her mother and Sophie died. Sylvia had proven her worth to the coven with her demon hunting, but Ms. Chiostro hadn’t had anything except her potions.

  She wrote an abbreviated version of this to Red. He nodded to her and then smiled. In the book he wrote, “That’s why I made the database. I wanted to repay Glenda’s faith in me.”

  She stared at Red for a moment. He didn’t seem so immature to her anymore. Maybe on the outside he was a boy, but inside he had the knowledge and experience of lifetimes. She wanted to caress his right cheek, but she moved the wrong arm. It didn’t matter at this point. She smiled at him and then moved towards him.

  Their lips touched and Ms. Chiostro felt a surge of electricity run through her. At first she thought it must be joy from the kiss, but then the surge became stronger. Ms. Chiostro’s body began to jerk around in a spasm. She collapsed onto the ground, where she flopped around like a fish in a boat. Red stood over her, but when he tried to touch her, she flailed at him to stay away; she didn’t want anything to happen to him.

  The pain lasted for a few minutes, until Ms. Chiostro’s vision went dark. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she opened her eyes again. Red’s face was paler than usual, but he smiled at her. “Thank goodness,” he said. “You’re awake.”

  She stared at him for a moment. He started to write in the address book, but she took it away from him with her right hand—the hand she meant to use. “I can hear you again!” she shouted.

  “I can hear you too,” he said.

  He offered her a hand to help her up. Her steps were wobbly, but she could manage them on her own. “The spell must have worn off,” he said.

  She thought back to what had happened and shook her head. “No, it wasn’t the spell.” She tapped him on the chest. “It was you.”

  “Me?”

  “That magical resistance of yours. When I kissed you, it must have negated the spell.”

  “I…I guess that’s possible,” he said. “But why didn’t it work before when I touched you?”

  “Maybe it has to be intimate contact.”

  Red blushed at this. “Maybe.” He laughed nervously. “Maybe I should kiss your friends to change them back.”

  “I’m not sure that would work. You might destroy their minds entirely.”

  “True. We can save that as a last resort I guess.”

  She leaned forward to kiss him again. This time there was no surge of electricity. She was safe. This gave her time to kiss Red even deeper. For his part he seemed content to do nothing but let her work. For all the knowledge of his other lives, he didn’t seem very comfortable about physical intimacy.

  When she finally pulled away she asked, “Was that your first kiss?”

  “My first kiss, yes.”

  “How did it compare to the others?”

  “It blew them away.”

  “Smooth talker.” She kissed him again, albeit this time on the cheek. Then she took his hand. “I suppose we should go see if the door will open. Sylvia is probably worried sick by now.”

  “Actually, there might be something else we can do. It might be dangerous.”

  “What is it?”

  “There’s another level of the archives, one only Glenda has visited.”

  “What’s down there?”

  “The spirits of the ancients.”

  “Spirits? As in ghosts?”

  “Yes. We’re not sure how they got down there, but the oldest witches inhabit that bottom level. Glenda didn’t want anyone else to go down there until she was sure it was safe.”

  “The oldest witches? Is my mother down there? Annabelle Joubert?”

  To Ms. Chiostro’s dismay, Red shook his head. “I don’t think so. The witches down there are really ancient, even older than Glenda.”

  “Oh, I see.” Ms. Chiostro looked down the path, but she didn’t see anything besides solid rock. “Where is this place?”

  “Down there. Maybe we should wait until we can talk to Glenda—”

  “We’ve gone this far. We might as well go all the way.”

  “If you’re sure Ms.—”

  “Call me Aggie.”

  “Aggie. If you’re sure, I’ll take you.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  She took Red’s arm and then they set out down the path.

  ***

  They reached the end of the path. Aggie stopped to touch the wall. “Where do we go now?”

  “Through the wall.”

  “Through it?”

  “It’s a magic wall. Glenda put it up to keep people out.”

  “Oh. Here goes nothing.” She squeezed Red’s hand before they stepped into the wall. She braced herself for some pain, but as Red had said, the wall proved to be magic.

  They passed right through it and stepped into a puddle of water. Aggie cried out as her feet sunk into mud. Around them she saw a swamp that reminded Aggie of a visit to Louisiana back when it still belonged to the French. Red told her it was actually a representation of a bog in ancient Britain. “Did Glenda create this?”

  “No, she just feels more comfortable here.”

  “Glenda?”

  “No, the spirit who lives here. Greesha.�
�

  Aggie shook her head as she freed her foot from the muck. Red helped her up onto more solid ground. “Not where I’d choose to make my eternal resting place.”

  “Me either. But there’s one of me who raises alligators in Florida. He’d love it here.”

  The mention of alligators prompted Aggie to look around. She didn’t see any alligators, but she did see a black snake that had to be at least six feet long. She yelped at the size of it. “I think we should look somewhere else for this Greesha person.”

  “You do not need to go somewhere else, fool,” a voice hissed. “You have found her.”

  Aggie looked around, but she didn’t see anyone except Red—and the snake. The snake’s head rose out of the water and seemed to gaze at them with unnaturally green eyes. “You’re Greesha? But you’re not human—”

  “Long ago I was trapped in this form. My sister stole my power and cursed me to spend eternity in this form. But I will have my revenge. You children will help me.”

  “We’re not children,” Aggie snapped. “I’m over five hundred years old.”

  “You are children to me. I am as old as the world itself.”

  “Maybe we should go,” Red whispered into Aggie’s ear.

  “Leave now and you will never help your friends.”

  Aggie stared at the snake for a moment. “You know about my friends?”

  “I know all about Emma and Rebecca. The magic of your puny coven can never save them. Not even that usurper Merlin could save them.”

  “Is that so? If you’re so powerful, why are you trapped here as a snake?”

  “I made the mistake of trusting my sister. But now I will have revenge. You will help me, and in exchange I will help you change your friends back.”

  “How can we help you?”

  “You will loan me your soft, beautiful young body and I will change your friends back.”

  “You want to eat me?”

  “No, you fool.” If it were possible, Aggie imagined the snake would shake its head sadly in disbelief. “You will give me your body to inhabit. It has been too long since I’ve been a young girl.”

  “No!” Red shouted. He threw himself in front of Aggie. “You’re not going to do anything to her. We can make another arrangement.”

  “You have nothing else I want. Only her.”

  “Then take me. It can’t be much of a difference between a boy and a girl.”

  “Your body would not be suitable. I need the body of a witch.” Greesha slithered out of the water to coil herself up at Aggie’s feet. Aggie shivered, but didn’t move. “Such a pretty girl to be gifted with magic.”

  “I’m glad you approve,” Aggie snapped. “Just how long will you want my body for?”

  “Only until I’ve freed myself of this curse. Once I am free, you will have your body back.”

  Red took her by the arm and pulled her away from Greesha. “We can’t trust this creature. Once she has your body she won’t give it back.”

  “But it’s the only way to help my friends.” She took Red’s hand in hers. “I have to do it. For Emma and Rebecca.”

  “Aggie, please—”

  Aggie silenced him with a kiss. “I love you, Red. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I can feel something between us. Maybe it was that spark when we first kissed. I just know we belong together.”

  “We do belong together. There’s something I should have told you.” Red took a deep breath and then said, “In one of my other lives, we were together. I lost you then. I don’t want to lose you again.”

  Aggie stared at him for a moment. She supposed it was possible they had been together in another universe. “I’m sorry, Red, but Emma and Rebecca have been like my granddaughters. I can’t abandon them now. If this is the only way, then it’s what I have to do.” She smiled sadly at him. “If we’ve already met twice, maybe we can be together a third time.”

  “I hope so.” They kissed again, but it was a chaste, dry kiss as Greesha stared at them with those green eyes of hers.

  Once they parted, the snake glided across the ground towards Aggie. She wanted to turn and run, but she knew she couldn’t. If she did, then Emma and Rebecca would be stuck in the wrong bodies forever. This is the only way, she thought as the snake wrapped itself around her legs and then began to squeeze the life from her.

  Part 4

  Chapter 26

  Her study of the meteor didn’t find anything of interest. Even another spectral analysis indicated nothing, as if the previous results were a figment of her imagination. From what she could tell from her tests, the meteor was an ordinary space rock.

  As the hands of the clock moved closer to seven, she started to fidget nervously on her stool. It wouldn’t be long until she was supposed to meet Dan for coffee. What would happen then? What if the Russians found her again? Would they kill her this time?

  With a sigh she pushed away from the counter. She should just give Bykov the meteor; let his people figure out what it was and where it came from. She shook her head immediately at this thought. No, something this powerful in the hands of a man like Bykov would only spell disaster for the Grakistanis and the rest of the world. She wasn’t Emma Earl right now, but that didn’t mean she could forget about the promise she’d made to the old farmer to expose Bykov. She wouldn’t give in to him, not now.

  At six-thirty she closed the meteor case. She didn’t want to take it back to Sylvia’s truck and leave it there, where it would be too easy for the Russians—or some passing stranger—to find it. “Is there someplace I can keep this for a couple of hours?” she asked Tim, who was still hard at work to repair the RAT.

  “If it’s only a couple of hours, you can leave it here. I’ll look after it.”

  Emma didn’t doubt that Tim would still be in the lab in a couple of hours; he would probably be there until midnight or later. “That would be great. It’ll only be for a little bit. I have to go meet a friend.”

  “Sure, you have fun.” With someone else there might have been a wink or something in the tone of voice to indicate knowledge of what Emma was really doing, but like with Steve Scherr—and Emma herself—Tim didn’t have that capacity for mean-spiritedness.

  “Thanks.” She left the meteor case on a counter at the back of the room, where it would be out of the way but visible enough for her to find it later. Then she waddled out to Sylvia’s truck. She sucked in her gut and swung up into the driver’s seat.

  The truck rumbled through the city traffic; drivers gave her curious looks as she passed. A military-issue truck probably gave some of them pause; they probably thought some kind of invasion was imminent. She waved at a little boy pressed against his window who gaped at her.

  The most difficult part of the trip was to find somewhere to park her massive vehicle. If she still worked at the museum it would have been easy enough to use the museum’s parking garage and then walk to the café. Then again, if she worked at the museum she would still have her motorcycle, which would be far easier to park.

  She finally found an alley big enough to accommodate the truck. To park there was illegal, but both buildings connected to the alley looked deserted at the moment and cops in Rampart City had better things to do at night than write traffic tickets. She locked the doors, though she was sure Sylvia had installed some kind of magic booby traps for anyone foolish enough to try to steal her vehicle.

  As she hurried along the sidewalk, she looked around for any sign of the Russians. She had checked frequently in her rearview mirror but hadn’t seen them. That didn’t mean they couldn’t be somewhere, or have someone else spy on her. This is a bad idea, she told herself. It was too dangerous. If something happened to Dan—

  “You’re early,” he said. He stood in front of the café in a tweed jacket and warm smile.

  “So are you.”

  “I guess we’re both punctual then.” He reached out to take her arm; his body pressed against hers. She forgot about the Russians and everything else as
she let him lead her into the café. She felt light enough to float as he guided her to a corner table where they could be alone. When she realized the elderly owner of the café stood beside their table, she snapped out of her reverie.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Just a coffee. Two creams and two sugars.” The old man nodded before he hurried away to fetch the drinks.

  “Are you all right?” Dan asked. “You seem a little distracted.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a long day.”

  “How is your project coming?”

  “I’m kind of stuck right now.”

  “What is it? Maybe I could help.”

  “I’m studying a meteor,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

  “A meteor?” He shook his head. “Not my area of expertise. Have you asked your friend Dr. Earl? That used to be her job at the museum. She’s the best.”

  “She’s a little occupied at the moment, trying to find a job.”

  “I see. Well, maybe I could help. I took some geology classes in school.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Emma said. She had a nightmare that the meteor would shock Dan and throw him back into a wall to split his head open. Or maybe it would cause them to switch bodies. Or maybe something even worse than that.

  The old man returned with their coffees. He gave them both a slight bow before he scurried away to wait on other patrons. Emma took a sip of her heavily sweetened coffee, but still found it bitter. Dan seemed to have no such issues with his as he took a long sip from his mug.

  “I hope this doesn’t sound too forward, but I really missed you,” he said.

  “You did? Why?”

  “Why not? You’re a very special person. I can tell. You’re smart and sweet and funny and beautiful.”

  Emma’s cheeks reddened at this. “I don’t know about the last two.”

  He reached across the table to take her hand. “You are beautiful.”

  She put a hand to the stomach she held in so it wouldn’t gush out onto the table. “I don’t think they’ll put me on the cover of a magazine anytime soon—except maybe a tabloid for World’s Fattest Woman.”