“Wait!” Bergman tried to get up, winced in pain, and let Vayl haul him to his feet. “Raoul. Before you leave, I have to ask you something.” He hobbled to the door, holding his side like he thought the support might help him move a little faster. When he got there, he looked at me for a ful five seconds before I got the message that I wasn’t welcome in the conversation.
I said, “Uh, yeah, wel , see you later, Raoul. Uh, Sterling’s probably got questions about this whole mission that I stil haven’t had time to answer.” Just before I could turn away Raoul grabbed me and gave me a lung-squishing hug. “Good luck,” he whispered.
“If anyone can crush Brude forever, I know it’s you.” When he let me go I staggered a little, not so much because I was off balance, but because he’d known, probably al along, that I’d been fighting the Domytr’s possession. And he’d let me deal with it the way I wanted.
He hadn’t pushed, ordered, or manipulated. He’d just…
been there. I swal owed.
“Thanks.” I nodded, blinking so the damn tears that kept surfacing when I least wanted them to would get the hel out of my way. Then I went to talk to the warlock. And by God, if he made me want to cry, I was going to grab his wand and wave it around until I was surrounded by toads and lizards.
Because that’s one thing you can count on with reptiles.
They’re just not into tender moments.
Bergman found just enough lucid brain cels to connect Astral to a computer, access her latest entry, and print the map. While he typed short phrases into the computer and poked green and yel ow buttons on his multi-machine, which, at the moment, was acting as a printer, we took turns making sure he stayed conscious and ducking out to arm ourselves for demon fighting. Hopeful y we’d beat Kyphas to the Rocenz and be long gone before she ever showed up. But we hadn’t survived this long crossing our fingers and scrunching our eyes shut.
When we’d first encountered the demon in Australia, only Cassandra had been carrying the kind of double-bladed weapon that can easily slice hel spawn’s hide. And none of us owned anything that could cause permanent damage. Raoul had raided his own supply to provide us with swords that had been forged by demon-fighters from way back. These are the folks you want smithing your steel when regular weapons take twice as long to cause even a minor injury. Raoul had built himself up quite a col ection, and I stil couldn’t quite believe he’d shared it with us, tel ing us we could keep the blades until our deal with Kyphas was done. Wel , she might be finished with us, but we weren’t sure we felt the same.
So each of us took a run to our rooms and belted on the gear Raoul had loaned us. Cole’s blade, long and heavy as a shovel, stil sparkled like raindrops on a lake when he swung it. His strangely flexible shield fit snugly over one shoulder until he needed to bring it into action.
Vayl’s cane-sword had evidently been crafted by a true master, because it damaged demon and wielder alike.
My blade, which rode in a sheath at my back, felt like it had been custom-made for me, it carried so light and swung so smooth. That didn’t make it any less lethal.
Maybe I’d have the chance to prove that tonight.
When I got back to Bergman’s lair, he’d finished translating some writing on the map that had stumped Cole, despite his extensive knowledge of languages.
“This cat’s amazing, you know that?” he asked me as I settled down on one of his cushy red chairs while Astral gave us both her inscrutable stare from the middle of his coffee table. It struck me then that she might be a frustrated centerpiece. But I was distracted from the thought when he shoved a copy of the map into my hands. “Look what she came up with.”
I nodded over the paper, which had English written in place of the words we hadn’t been able to translate before.
The paragraph at the top of the page read: Cursed and thrice cursed be ye who raise the Rocenz without offering proper dues or sacrifice.
For Cryrise’s hammer and Frempreyn’s chisel may spel your salvation, or your doom.
I found it harder to understand the words at the bottom: Who holds the hammer stil must find the keys to the triple-locked door.
“Wow, aren’t we al creepy and cryptic,” Cole said when Vayl had read out the entire translation.
Bergman slumped farther down in his chair. “This is ridiculous,” he said, his words beginning to slur as his fight to stay awake began to fail. “Hammers? Chisels? And now keys? Ya know, whoever made this map doesn’t know squat about real treasure.” He shook his finger in the air, like he was lecturing a bunch of unruly fourth graders.
“Diamonds, man! Silver crowns embedded with rubies the size of my fist! That’s what we’re supposed to be searching for!” He’d raised his hand to emphasize the point. Now he dropped it, plop, in his lap, like it weighed too much to bother with anymore. “I’m tired.”
“Why don’t you go to bed, Miles? We’ve got it from here,” I said.
Without waiting for his reply, Vayl picked him up and moved him to the bed, not even bothering to turn down the shimmering green spread before laying him gently on it.
Bergman struggled to his elbows. “Where’s Astral? Jaz?
Can Astral stay and, you know, keep me company?”
“Of course.” I gave the cat her order and she trotted over to Miles, who was already snoring. After patting his face experimental y with one paw, she decided he wasn’t going to issue any commands in the near future, and curled up under his chin.
I looked back at the guys, who were sitting on Bergman’s sofa, poring over the map.
“So does anybody know what al these colored squares and circles are supposed to represent?” asked Cole.
“Maybe it’s like a code,” said Sterling. “One color, or one sequence of colors, actual y means a word.” Cole stared at them for a while. “I don’t see a pattern.”
“Maybe it’s an actual map of someplace,” I suggested.
They looked up at me.
“Where?” asked Sterling. “There’s no reference to it.
There’s not even a key on the map to tel you which square or circle is which landmark.”
I held up my hand. “I know how we can find out.” I skipped downstairs and out the front door. “Yousef? I hope you’re not dragging poor Kamal along with you, because at four twenty in the morning I’d real y think you were a lowlife.” I waited. “Yousef! Get out of the damn bushes!”
Yousef stepped out from behind the thick growth of palm trees the original owner had planted at the front corner of Riad Almoravid. Sucker didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed.
I grabbed his hand. “Come on.”
He wouldn’t budge. Just stood there staring stupidly into my face, like he’d just heard the world was about to end. I slapped him and he came alive, his eyes sparkling as he spoke rapidly. I looked around for Kamal, but the kid had final y found the backbone to send his friend out solo.
So I beckoned for Yousef to fol ow me into the riad, which he did so eagerly I almost felt guilty. Until I reminded myself exactly what he was hoping to find on the other side of my bedroom door.
We trotted up to Bergman’s. “This is Yousef,” I said, yanking my hand out of his once I’d final y gotten him through the door. “He’s my stalker. Yousef? These are my friends. Cole, could you translate?”