Cyrus swallowed. Antigone slid to the back of her bench. The big man’s dark eyes had become stone.
“Keys,” Cyrus said quietly, and he looked down at his own toes. Rupert’s eyes were too uncomfortable to meet. “Skelton gave me his keys before he died. He told me to keep them safe.”
The big man breathed in slowly and turned his face up to the ceiling. “And have you?” he asked.
Cyrus was confused. “Have I what?”
“Kept the keys safe.”
Cyrus nodded. “Yeah. Well, I still have them.”
“And whom have you told?” Rupert asked. “Who else may know what you’re carrying?”
“Just Nolan,” Cyrus said. “He’s the only one.”
“And there were two keys?” Rupert’s eyes grew even darker.
“Yeah.” Cyrus nodded. “Normal-looking. Old, I guess. One is small and silver, one’s longer and gold, but the gold one was just to his truck.”
“Mother Mary.” Rupert breathed deep and shook his head. “Too many Skelton rumors prove to be true. No, Cyrus, the gold one was not just to his truck.” He became suddenly worried. “He placed these keys in your hand? He gave them to you? You did not take them?”
Cyrus nodded.
Greeves seemed relieved. “Then Skelton has already given you more than you can imagine.” He stepped toward Cyrus, blocking the ceiling lanterns with his shoulder. “With these two keys, was there anything else? Did Skelton speak to you about a tooth? Not a whole tooth. A shard? It would have been black. He might have called it a dragon’s tooth.”
Cyrus blinked. His neck was suddenly quite heavy.
“Reaper’s Blade? Resurrection Stone? Anything like that?”
Cyrus glanced at his sister. Her eyes were wide, nervous, waiting for his decision. He looked back up at Rupert, and then he shook his head.
“Skelton didn’t say anything.” He swallowed. It wasn’t really a lie. Skelton had been dead. Horace had done all the tooth talking.
Rupert’s brows slid slowly down, and his eyes disappeared in shadow.
“Are you going to take the keys from me?” Cyrus asked quickly.
Greeves blinked, and the shadows on his face slid away in surprise. “Take them? Is that what you think of me? Cyrus, I am not a bullying thief. And if I were, Solomon Keys protect themselves. If I did force them from you, those keys would be deadly for me. For any mortal. They do not take kindly to theft. And if you gave them to me freely, they could never be returned to you. They are ancient, they are powerful, and no man living can know or understand the charms woven into them.”
Cyrus burst out laughing.
Antigone, surprised, blinked daggers at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just that, well, we’re talking about different keys. These are just regular old keys. They’re not ancient at all.”
“Where are they?” Rupert asked. He sat in the alcove across from Cyrus and leaned forward onto his knees. Seeing Cyrus hesitate, he quickly waved off his own question. “I understand your caution. The Order has not yet been kind to you. But when I am gone, test the keys and see if I am wrong. Soak them in water or try any lock you can find. Between one or the other of those keys, no door will remain closed to you.” He grew suddenly stern. “But use them honestly, Cyrus Smith. Solomon Keys have made thieves of many good men, and having made them thieves, it is never long before those keys unlock a door that leads only to death.”
Patricia adjusted herself invisibly on Cyrus’s neck. Her cool body tickled.
Cyrus swallowed, tucking his hands beneath his legs to keep them down. The big man’s dark eyes were still on him, reading Cyrus’s face.
Greeves began to stand. “I will leave you now.”
“No!” Antigone yelped. “No, no!” She stopped and collected herself. “Could you tell us more about our father first, about our family? Please. We didn’t even know that he had sisters. Did you know them?”
Greeves eased himself back down.
With nervous fingers, Antigone tucked her hair behind her ears. “And the guy with the tiny mustache said our dad got kicked out of this place. Why? What did he do?”
Patricia moved again, and Cyrus grabbed at her while Greeves watched his sister. For a moment, her silver body twisted in the air, and then she was gone, wrapped tightly around Cyrus’s hand. The keys rested in his palm. With his free hand, he scratched at his itching neck. Tiny blisters broke beneath his nails.
Rupert glanced at him and turned back to Antigone. “Your father was expelled, yes. And yes, I knew him. And I knew his sisters.”
Rupert’s eyes emptied, and he stared out of the hole at the Polygon’s plank pathways. His deep, accented voice rolled up quietly from his chest.
“We met when we were eight. I had just come from England for my first time. We often competed, as had our fathers and our grandfathers. We were rivals, but only until I realized that we were not.” Greeves almost smiled. “Lawrence was not unhappy if I beat him — not if the sun shone on the waves, and the wind was kissing the water. In mood, I was a shark, he was a dolphin. And the dolphin overpowered me.
“By the age of ten, we were brothers in soul. Our families contracted the same tutors, but as we could not both be the best of the Acolytes at everything, we chose to alternate victories. He at fencing, I at shooting, he at diving, I at flying, and so on. Our tutors would have been furious if they’d known.
“When my brother and Lawrence’s sisters disappeared, our bond grew even stronger. When his older brother was killed in the Congo, again we grew closer. My own parents died in a plane crash in Ethiopia. His parents died of slow grief, mourning his siblings. In a few short years, he was the beginning and end of my family, and I of his. Together, we became Journeymen and then Explorers. We walked the world searching out the deepest shadows, the darkest evils. Though we never spoke of it, I knew we were both searching for death.
“But then, more than twenty years ago, on the verge of rising to Keeper, we trekked into the mountain jungles of Guiana in northern Brazil. We barely escaped.”
Cyrus watched Rupert’s calloused hand reach for the open collar of his shirt and the tangled scars on his chest.
“But we did escape, and we returned to Ashtown with many strange things. The strangest of all was your mother.”
“What?” Cyrus sat up. “What do you mean?”
“Her name was Cataan — the name of her people. She became Katie to us, and bringing her back to Ashtown was a direct violation of modern Order policies. To make things worse, your father wanted to marry her. The Sages were amenable, but the Keepers absolutely refused to sanction the union. For the first time, your father and I grew apart. Lawrence defied the Order, and was befriended by other defiant elements as a result — Skelton became his confidant. He married Katie and lost everything. After centuries, the Smiths were gone from the Order. Until now.”
“You’re telling the truth?” Antigone asked. “This is real?”
“It is,” said Greeves.
“We knew Mom was Brazilian.” Antigone looked at her brother. “But I thought they met when she was a student.”
“Oh, she was a student. But she’s not Brazilian.” Rupert rose to his feet. “She is Cataan — one of the daughters of an ancient and forgotten people. Look at your hair. Look at your skin. They are her gifts to you.” He smiled and stepped toward the hole. “Good night.”
“Wait,” Antigone said. “Don’t just leave. Can’t you tell us the whole story?”
Greeves stopped, and for a moment, his pointed beard hung beneath a wide grin. “Good night,” he said again, and the smile was gone. “I have a hunt to join.”