“It’s not the same by any means but I’m the first woman to do… this. All the Gravediggers before me were all men.”
“Lazarus told me a little about that,” Kelly admitted. “It all sounded a bit… mystical.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Charity responded, laughing as she did so. She leaned forward, realizing that she really liked Kelly.
“So do you feel extra pressure because you’re a woman?” Kelly asked.
“I do. Not sure why but I really do.”
“It’s natural, believe me. We’re so aware that people are usually looking to the men for leadership that we feel we have to not only be the equal to them but their superior. All the while without losing the femininity that people not only expect but that we want to hang on to, as well.”
“I worry that I’m pushing my people too hard.”
“That depends on the people.”
“I only have three years. You know that, right? I have three years to get all my work done. If I screw this up, I’m going straight to hell.”
“I don’t believe in hell,” Kelly said, looking a bit embarrassed by the revelation. “Heaven, either. My father nearly had a stroke when I said that to him.”
“I won’t judge you and I don’t know if The Voice is God or just some powerful entity that’s using me. Whether or not the hell I might end up is the same one from the Bible, don’t know that either. But whatever it is, I don’t want to end up there.”
“Can’t say I blame you for that.”
Charity pointed towards the notepad. “What do you think it says?”
“I’ve been re-checking my translation for awhile now because there must be some mistake.”
“Why do you think that?”
“The closest runic translation I could decipher says: THE AGELESS WOMAN SLEEPS IN THE SILVER SKULL. TO AWAKEN HER IS TO BEGIN THE END TIMES.”
“Why do you think you made a mistake?”
“Because of the last part of the translation.” Kelly locked eyes with Charity and leaned forward. “It goes on to say: THE WOMAN WHO DIGS GRAVES SHALL BE HER OTHER. Not only does that not make any sense,” Kelly continued, “but it seems to be a direct reference to a female Gravedigger… and you’re the first one in history, right?”
“No reason to think those runes couldn’t have been written yesterday,” Charity countered, though she was confident that Kelly was on to something big.
Kelly stood up quickly, moving over to a locked cabinet in the corner of her office. She fished around for a set of keys in her pocket and opened the storage, pulling out a battered old book. She flipped through the pages and handed it over to Charity, who looked in surprise at the drawing on the yellowed paper. “That’s the Silver Skull, isn’t it? And you have it?”
“What is this book?” Charity asked, looking at the spine but seeing no title.
“It’s called The Daemonicus Bible and it was written sometime in the mid-1600s. Lazarus had it in his library of the occult but I begged it off of him. I’ve read it from cover to cover so many times I have this thing memorized.” Kelly tapped the drawing and continued, “This book says the Silver Skull was created by a Viking mystic and that he trapped something of great power within it.”
“A demon,” Charity whispered, though she could see where Kelly was going with this.
“No. According to those runes you showed me, it’s not a demon inside the Skull — it’s Pandora.”
Charity handed the book over to Kelly, looking pensive. “The other side of the paper — it says Pandora Rising.”
Kelly set the book down and turned the paper over. “Interesting. Looks like someone wanted to make sure you didn’t miss the point.”
“But who? And if they already knew about the connection between Pandora and the Skull, why bring it to my attention at all?”
“Now you’re asking questions that I’m not qualified to answer.” Kelly began packing up her books but she glanced over at Charity and asked, “Why don’t you ask Lazarus for some help? I’m sure he could—”
“I don’t think so,” Charity answered, a bit more sharply than she’d intended. Seeing Kelly wince, she added, “Lazarus may be a good man. Hell, I’m sure he is. But he doesn’t approve of my methods. I don’t have time to pussyfoot around, though. Three years. That’s all I’ve got.”
“I understand,” Kelly countered. “That’s why you really need to use all the resources available to you.”
HIROSHI SAT WITH legs crossed, sipping his tea and picking at the turkey sandwich he’d ordered. He was seated outdoors at O’Henry’s, a small eatery located across the street from the Museum. Dressed in an expensive suit and long overcoat, he looked like a visiting diplomat from overseas and he played that role to the hilt, occasionally pretending to need help finding the right words in English as he spoke to the waitress.
Finally, after what seemed to be an interminable wait, Charity reappeared, walking down the Museum’s front steps. She held a small envelope in her right hand and Hiroshi was positive that it contained the scrap of paper he’d sent her, along with whatever materials she’d just picked up.
He stood up, dropped a few coins on the table, and tugged at the collar of his coat. He then crossed the street, waved a hand apologetically at a couple of drivers who loudly voiced their disapproval of his action.
By the time he caught up with Charity, she was about to hail a taxi. He placed a hand into the pocket of his coat and yelled out, “Miss Grace! A moment of your time, please?”
Charity turned to face him, suspicion and curiosity both showing in her features. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”
“Yes and no. You see, I am quite familiar with you but I’m afraid that this is the first time that you’ve met me.”
Charity seemed more guarded now and he noticed that she was balling her left hand into a fist. “And what’s your name?” she asked.
“Hiroshi Tamaki. And I thank you for doing such important work on my behalf.” With lightning speed, Hiroshi pulled a small pistol from his pocket. He shoved it hard against Charity’s stomach and pulled the trigger.
The sound of the gunshot was partially muffled by a large truck banging through a pothole in the street. Charity staggered back and fell, her head landing hard against the sidewalk. Even as the waitress at O’Henry’s began to scream, Hiroshi had knelt and snatched the envelope from Charity’s twitching fingers.
He walked away hurriedly, vanishing from sight within seconds.
In his wake, Charity Grace was left staring up at the sky. Her last thoughts before she blacked out were about the brevity of time she’d been given… and how much of it she had wasted.
Chapter IV: Forever Evil
Quick Dan hated Bingwen’s old shop. It was too small and it had a strange odor that clung to the place, no matter how much cleaning you did to it. It was the accumulation of years’ worth of incense and strange Oriental potions, he reasoned.
He could still feel the vibrations of the autogyro beneath him, even though he’d landed the strange aircraft nearly a half hour ago. It was hidden in one of the many empty buildings that could be found in the Chinatown district. Though many had seen it coming and going, no one would say anything to the authorities. Secrets were prized currency in this region and you often paid with your life.
Dan lit a cigarette and stepped into the main area of the old shop, where Locke, Craig and Hiroshi were seated around a circular table. They were flipping through the books and papers that Charity had been carrying. “Find anything interesting?” he asked between puffs.