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My mind raced. I had expected many things from my father. An introduction to a criminal overlord was not one of them. He’d never been so willing to help. The skeptic in me wondered where the change had come from. What was he up to? Perhaps as his condition worsened, he was becoming more malleable, or perhaps more desperate.
Either way, I’d take what help I could get. I didn’t have the luxury of options.
“How do you know the Red Knight?” I asked.
Frank eased back into the rich Corinthian leather. “I make it my business to know the best and brightest in any industry, and Edward Knight is a master of his art. Most miscreants meander into a life of crime through desperation or need. Edward Knight chose it as his calling and has honed it to an artform. His criminal empire has influence on most continents. While somewhat newer than many of the dynasties that have ruled the shaded path, Edward Knight has built his impressive empire in less than two decades.”
“Sounds like he would be right at home in the Brotherhood,” I replied.
Frank chuckled. “I’m sure he would, if he would accept an invitation.”
I raised an eyebrow. “He turned down the Brotherhood? I was always under the impression that wasn’t an option.”
“Don’t go getting any ideas, Seth. For men like us, born into it, it’s an obligation and a duty. For up and comers like Edward, there are options for a seat at the table, and few turn it down. But the Red Knight has established himself as a man without a master. He believes an alliance with the Brotherhood would weaken his position, remove autonomy, and influence those he might wish to do business with. Try as we might, the Red Knight and his empire remain as neutral as Switzerland.”
I tried to process what my father was saying. Knight had managed to free himself of the Brotherhood’s influence. He might know something that would help me do the same. I had no desire to spend what life I had in service to them.
“What makes you think he’ll be able to find the Inquisition?”
Frank cracked his knuckles. “Because he is a normal. A normal with a very flexible moral compass and friends in low places. There is a chance his network might have picked something up. If the Inquisition is rooting around Central America, chances are they have moved goods or people through one of his shipping routes.”
“What makes you think he will help us?” I asked.
Frank ran his fingers through his graying hair. “I can’t solve everything for you, boy. He is under no obligation to help us, but you’ve proved resourceful enough in the past. Perhaps one of those shiny trinkets you’ve pilfered will take his fancy. You won’t know until you ask. The Red Knight is notorious for making deals. If you can provide something of value to him, he’ll get us what we need.”
“What we need?”
It sounded dangerously like my father was starting to come around.
“Yes, Seth. What we need. Just because I haven’t had the luxury of gallivanting around the world chasing our curse, doesn’t make this any less my problem. After all, the curse will kill me first, so it’s very much our problem.“ His hands trembled and he clenched his fist in an attempt to hide it.
“How bad is it?”
He closed his eyes. “It grows worse day by day. I don’t sleep well anymore. The voice is always there, inside my mind. I can hear her trying to influence me. She probes at my mind, trying to get me to break, but I won’t give her the satisfaction. I have more fight in me than that.”
In spite of his words, I could hear a fatigue in his voice. One I’d never heard before. He was nervous. He’d been fighting this curse all his life and from what I’d seen in the last half-hour, he was starting to lose.
He caught my stare. “Don’t pity me, Seth. I’ve lived more in one lifetime than most men do in ten, but I have more that I wish to do. I fight this curse knowing that every day I hold out is one more day I have bought you.”
I couldn’t hold his gaze. I turned and stared out the window at the passing houses.
He sighed. “You might think that you can feel it now. The subtle whispers in your mind. Gentle suggestions that go against your nature. I remember all too well the day my father died. It was like a dam in my mind burst, and all of a sudden, she was there. Since that day there has been no respite.”
I’d never heard my father speak of his burden so plainly. It explained the weariness in his voice. The constant unrelenting harassment. It would weary anyone.
My father continued. “As I grew used to the reality of the curse and its ever-present invasion in my mind, I realized why my father had taken his own life. He hurled himself out of a helicopter, Seth. That’s how desperate he was to make her stop. I won’t do that to you. I’ll fight for as long as I can, but the truth is I’m running out of time. You’re running out of time. This temple is our best chance to rid ourselves of this forsaken curse once and for all. If the best chance of finding it is the Red Knight, we must speak with him. Fortunately, he’s in London.”
“Can you arrange the meeting?” I asked, turning back to him. The creases by his eyes seemed deeper than they had before. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me.
He drummed on the leather armrest. “I can. I have dealt with him in the past, profitably. He will take my call, but you must be careful, Seth. The Red Knight is ruthless and will be exacting in the price he sets. Do not enter into a bargain you cannot afford. No one breaks faith with the Red Knight.”
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. It felt like at every turn I was trading something of myself to try and save my own skin. First the Brotherhood, now the Red Knight. When I was done, would there be anything left?
“On the topic of breaking faith,” I began, wiping my palms on my slacks, “we need to talk about the Brotherhood. You know how I feel about them. I have no desire to continue your indentured servitude to the organization Francis founded.”
“Be that as it may, Seth, they are too powerful to ignore. Money is power and our family’s fortune has bolstered their coffers for close to four hundred years. Wizards and normals working shoulder to shoulder to build a better world. You can be a part of that. You will be a part of that.”
“Better for whom?” I asked, cracking the car window for some fresh air. “Better for themselves?”
“Close that,” Frank barked. “We’re not safe until we’re back on the estate.”
I sighed and wound up the window.
“You’re wrong about them, Seth,” my father said. “Those men at the airfield were willing to murder you, not just for the mask, but for what you are. A wizard in a World of Magic that they don’t understand. Sure, there are folks who believe it can be used for the greater good, but history has proven time and time again that people fear what they don’t understand. Now our world is being thrust before the masses and that will invariably breed conflict. The Brotherhood smooths that conflict.”
“Isn’t that a problem for the Arcane Parliament?” I replied, referring to the organization that governed magical affairs in Europe. The Parliament was like a government without borders. Instead of paying heed to where nations drew their boundaries, the supernatural community had its own lines of demarcation. The world was divided into regions, each region governed by a body of witches and wizards who dictated legislation to protect and preserve the rights of those who looked to them.
Relationships between the mundane and supernatural world were their jurisdiction. After all, if the wizarding world was at war with normals it could distract and inhibit us from our role of siphoning excess supernatural energy that coursed through the world’s ley lines.
Normals called it climate change but the truth was there was far more than pollution contributing to the world’s shifting climate. The world’s magic was in commotion. Something had awoken in recent years and the increase in energy coursing through the ley lines that crisscrossed the world required a combined effort of the respective magical governments to keep it in check.
The Arcane Parliament was drawn from members of Europe’s most prominent wizarding families. It was nepotism at its finest but they had been governing arcane matters on the continent for over a thousand years.
“It’s cute that you think those old bureaucracies are still effective,” Frank chuckled. “The world is changing swiftly, and if we wait for deliberations from old wizards still clinging to prophecy and tradition, we will find ourselves extinct. The Gods gave us a duty. That duty won’t wait for bureaucracy. The Brotherhood sees that the world doesn’t suffer while the bureaucrats deliberate.”
“The ends justify the means?” I asked, looking him in the eye.
Frank rolled his eyes. “It is the reality of the world in which we live. The Brotherhood moves to preserve global affairs at a speed that those bureaucracies simply can’t hope to match. True, they are less scrupulous about the cost, but this is the real world, Seth. Sunshine and rainbows only go so far. Balance must be preserved, no matter the price. You may not like it, but we play a part in that balance. You, me, my father, and his father before him. For four hundred years we have supported, guided, and shaped humanity’s destiny. We can’t break from that duty now, even if we wanted to. Our family built the machine that will consume us.”
“I can’t cure our curse if I’m tied down to the Brotherhood’s agenda. I need time,” I replied, wiping a bead of sweat off my brow. Maybe it was the heating in the SUV that was beginning to make me sweat, or perhaps it was the inevitability of my father’s words.
Frank nodded. “I will buy you what I can, but the day is coming, Seth. Do not play with Lynch. He will brook no foolishness.”
“Lynch is a problem for another day.” I clutched the silicon bag against the mask, its weight comforting in my hand.
“I’ll set the meeting with the Red Knight while he is still in London. Tonight, if possible,” Frank said, rubbing his temples as if soothing a headache. “You’ll need to take someone with you.”
“I would have taken Dizzy but you sent her home.”
Frank’s voice lowered. “I’ve every confidence in the heir of Alasa but she has trouble at home. I thought it best she see her parents. Perhaps she can be an influence for good.”
“What do you mean? What’s going on?”
Frank held up a hand. “It’s not my place to say. She’ll tell you when she is ready.”
Typical Frank. Always interfering. He couldn’t help himself. I slipped the mask back into its bag and tucked it into the duffel.
“Don’t grumble. I’ll lend you Charles for the evening. Murdoch could badly use some rest. It looks like he’s been to hell and back.”
I smoothed my slacks and conceded the point. Murdoch had flown the red-eye from New York on the back of the day’s heist and had almost been blown to smithereens by an RPG. If anyone deserved hazard pay, and a little bit of rest, it was him.
“Fair enough.”
Charles was my father’s body man. Six foot six and as wide as an NFL linebacker, he was dense enough to have his own orbit. Even unarmed he was a formidable opponent, and Charles was never unarmed.
“You’ll need to change,” Frank said, pointing to my tattered clothes.
What had been a perfectly serviceable wardrobe had taken a beating during the struggle at the airfield.
“No worries. You set the meeting and run interference with Mom. I’ll get changed and be back in the car in no time.”
Frank folded his arms. “Not on your life, boy. You made the foolish mistake of overlooking your mother; now you must pay the piper. Make it right, and be quick about it. She deserves more.”
I glanced out the window to avoid my father’s judgmental gaze. It seemed on this front he would be no help at all.
In truth, I really had to do better. Obsession was in my nature, and I tended to focus on the task in front of me to the exclusion of everything else. Now I had incurred the wrath of my mother. Given the choice of enduring her fury or going another round with the Inquisition, I would be hard pressed to decide which was more dangerous. I would have to throw myself on her mercy and hope for the best.
The convoy peeled off the road and onto a driveway leading to the palatial Weybridge Manor. Located in the heart of Surrey’s prestigious St. George’s Hills, the rolling mansion was set on three and half acres of pristine manicured lawn with dense woodlands providing privacy from prying neighbors. The manor itself was a monolithic structure of white rendered walls and charcoal eaves. Carefully groomed evergreens lined the drive as the convoy pulled up in front of the Manor’s main entrance. At a little over 21,000 square feet, it had seven bedrooms, just as many bathrooms, a two-story foyer, and a double grand staircase that was every bit the display of ostentatious wealth Frank had wanted.
As a child, I could play for days without ever reaching the fence. I only prayed that today the size of the structure would give me a chance to evade Mother, at least until she had cooled a little.
I opened the door and tried to get out of the car, but Frank reached across and placed a hand on the mask.
“Leave the mask with me. That thing is a magnet for trouble and Edward Knight is an opportunist. It’ll be safer here at the manor.”
I handed it over. As I let it go, I could feel it calling to me. I cocked my head to the side. Could it be that the relic recognized our bloodline? I couldn’t begin to guess how it would react to Frank with his curse at such an advanced stage.
“Be careful,” I whispered.
“I’ll be fine,” Frank replied, tucking the bag under his arm. “I want to run it against some of the notes I’ve gathered over the years and see what I can turn up. What else is in the bag?”
I smiled. “A bribe; one I’ll sorely need if Mother catches me.”
I pushed open the door and made for the front steps. Inside, I bounded up the left-hand side of the grand staircase, panting as I kept my pace up. Reaching the top of the stairs, I darted down the East Wing. So far so good. I slipped inside my bedroom, easing the door closed behind me.
“And whom would you be hiding from?” a feminine voice called from behind me.
My shoulders sagged as I recognized my mother’s voice. I ought to have known better.
“Hello, Mother. It’s good to see you.”
I turned to face her. Mother sat at my writing desk in a white dress, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and held in place by a diamond encrusted fitting that was probably worth more than my car.
“Don’t you hello mother me.” She rose from the desk, her finger waving. “You get engaged to someone without telling us, and then I find we’re not even invited to the wedding, how dare you. I shouldn’t pay the price for you and your father’s bickering.”
I raised both hands in surrender. There was nowhere to go, and all of my excuses sounded lame enough in my head that I didn’t dare utter them aloud.
“Mother, it was an accident. A careless and foolish mistake but one I intend to rectify at once. The wedding is still months away. I always had every intention of inviting you. I just haven’t got to sending them out.”
“Nonsense,” Mother fumed, her pale cheeks flushed with indignation. “Who waits this long to send invitations?”
“I do,” I replied, hugging my mother. “Since when have I been the organized party planner? Lara’s been hounding me for months, but truth be told I’ve been busy with other matters.”
My mother didn’t relent or return the embrace. “More pressing than your own wedding? The poor woman. I feel sorry for her already.”
“Aw thanks, Mom. Glad to know you’re always on my side.”
Mother didn’t dignify that with a response.
“Well, where is she then? Where is this young woman that has so captured my son’s attention that he would forget his own mother?”
My heart skipped a beat as I thought of Lara. It had only been a day and I already missed her terribly.
“You’ll meet her soon enough,” I replied, hoping that I could deliver on that promise. “I’ve been hunting a relic that has to do with our family curse. I found it in New York and for the first time we have a very real chance of changing our fate. We may be able to cure this thing once and for all. That’s what has distracted me.”
My mother’s face softened, her lips parting. “You found something that might be able to help your father?”
“That’s what we’re hoping,” I replied. “This mask is the first solid clue we’ve been able to find.”
My mother smiled, but there was a sadness in her voice. “That would be nice. Your father has been different of late. I fear it’s starting to get the better of him.”
“Come here, Mom,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around her once more. This time she returned the embrace. Something had shaken her, and it worried me, almost as much as my father’s display in the hanger. “We are going to do everything we can. I haven’t given up yet.”
There was a slight sniffle as my mother tried to compose herself. “It’s good to have you home, Seth. Will you be here for long?”
“It depends,” I said, releasing her. “If we can find what we need from the mask, I could be on the road again, soon.”
Mother nodded. “Is your fiancée traveling with you?”
The question sent a pang of pain through me. “It’s a little complicated right now, Mom.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Uncomplicate it then.”
I didn’t have time to adequately explain everything that had occurred in the last twenty-four hours and I had the distinct impression she would be less than pleased with how I’d left things with Lara. Leaving my fiancée bound to a chair in her office was unlikely to win me brownie points.
Mom had hopes for grandchildren, something that had seemed unlikely to eventuate with me having stubbornly avoided relationships for most of my life.
“I stole the relic from her work and she caught me. She was less than impressed, and her employer doubly so. I tried to patch things up before I left but between leaving her tied to a chair in her office, and the surprise ‘I’m a wizard’, things are looking rough.”
Mom shook her head, “You’re just as bad at this as your father was. If I hadn’t chased him down, you would never have been born. Do you love her?”
Lara filled my mind, and not the Section 9 operative I’d met in her office. No, I saw her sitting cross legged on the lounge in our apartment, her head buried in an old textbook. The remnants of a hot chocolate going cold as she sat engrossed in her study. The image brought a smile to my face. “With my whole soul.”
Mom poked her finger into my chest. “Then make it right, Seth.”
“Yes, Mom,” I answered, feeling like I was twelve once more.
I didn’t have a clue how I was to accomplish such a task, but I wasn’t going down without a fight. I was a better man for having her in my life.
Reaching into the bag, I lifted out the unbreakable plate from the museum.
“Before I forget, I got you something.”
Her eyes perked up as she took the plate from me.
“It’s unbreakable. Rumor has it that it comes from a set in the White House. Quite the history and utterly irreplaceable. I thought you might like it for your collection.”
She admired the plate before fixing me with a stare. “You know, some mothers might be upset if their sons brought them stolen goods.”
“What else do you get the woman who has everything?” I asked. “I can put it back if you like?”
She tucked the plate under her arm with a smile. “No need, I’m sure I can find a spot for it here. I’ll forgive you this time, but mark my words, Seth, if I don’t get an invite, there will be nowhere on Earth you can hide from me.”
“You have nothing to worry about, Mom. I wouldn’t dare.”
She smoothed her dress with her free hand. “Good. Consider yourself warned.”
“I’d love to sit and chat, but I have to jump in the shower. Dad is organizing a meeting for me in town. I can’t be late for it.
“Don’t you be getting yourself in any more trouble—you just got home,” Mom said over her shoulder as she made her way to the door.
“I’ll consider myself duly warned,” I replied, as she let herself out of the room.
That had gone better than expected. I had no idea how I was meant to persuade Lara to meet my parents. I’d be lucky if she didn’t take my head off the next time she saw it. Next time. That was a pleasant thought. Hope was a powerful motivator, and I wasn’t going to give up on us. Continents apart though we might be, there was always a chance that things would work out. I just had to survive the wrath of the Inquisition, a clandestine CIA branch, and the omnipresent Brotherhood that was capable of destabilizing a democracy before breakfast.
But first I had to survive a meeting with the connoisseur of crime, Edward Knight. Someone with the resources to defy the Brotherhood. I was going to need to know more about how he had managed that. Perhaps he had some leverage that my father wasn’t familiar with. He could potentially be a potent ally.
Stripping off my tattered clothes, I made my way into the bathroom and tossed them in the laundry hamper. They really would have been better off in the trash. Stepping into the shower, I turned the tap on. The first blast of icy cold water hit my face, jolting me awake and sending a shiver that shook my whole body. After a moment, the heater kicked in, raising the temperature to a far more bearable level.
Grabbing the soap, I went to work in an attempt to make myself presentable. A futile effort on the best of days. After rinsing off, I killed the water, stepped out of the shower, and grabbed a towel. Looking in the mirror, I contemplated shaving but decided against it. This was a rendezvous, not a date, and the stubble added a few years to my face.
I searched my wardrobe, finding a gray suit that would serve. I pulled it off the hanger, along with a shirt, and slipped into them. The sleeves were a little tight, evidence that I’d put on a little weight during my time in New York. Not surprising; I was definitely going to miss the food. New Yorkers knew how to eat.
Grabbing a set of black wingtips, I slid into them and made my way back into the bathroom in search of a comb to try and wrangle my hair into place. After a few seconds, I abandoned the effort, weighed my reflection in the mirror, and decided it would have to do.
At my desk, I replaced the images of Benjamin Franklin with that of the Queen in my wallet, then made for my father’s study downstairs.
Frank sat behind his desk, the mask resting off to one side, while he flipped through an old leather-bound notebook.
His eyes rose from the book and focused on me.
“I think you found it, Seth. This mask is from their temple.”
I nodded as I sank into one of the leather chairs before his desk. I had thought as much but was eager to know what made him so sure.
“How do you know? When you called the plane, you were convinced it was a wild goose chase.”
“That was before I held it in my hand,” he said. “I can feel the power. It’s familiar, enticing, dangerous.”
I gripped the armrests. I’d felt the same. The flush of power that came with picking up the mask was intoxicating. The allure was disconcerting, and likely dangerous.
“The temple practiced blood magic, and the entire mask has been soaked in it. It has been painted in the life blood of generations of priestesses of the order, our ancestor among them.”
“How can you be so sure?” I asked.
“The voice has gone still,” he said. “It’s as if she can sense it.”
I grinned. “Then we’re on the right track. Look at the markings. The etchings on the front look like a puzzle. The symbols above it, they can’t be an accident either. Three distinct non-symmetrical images. And consider the back. This language is meant to have no written dialect, no recorded history, but here it is in our hands, evidence that that was not always the case. Brujas de Sangre had a written language and recorded it on this artifact. I wonder what it says?”
“Lear denales ma’le igualez,“ Frank whispered, his voice quiet, almost reverential.
I shook my head in disbelief. “How can you know that? Can you read it? Is it a product of the curse?”
Frank set down the leather journal. “Nothing so convenient, I’m afraid. I learned the translation from these journals. It means ‘all fates are not equal.’ The real question is, why is it carved into the mask?”
“Perhaps it’s a warning,” I said, thinking out loud.
“Maybe.” Frank ran his finger along the edges of the mask. “These other lines of script, I have no idea. Perhaps with the journal you might be able to translate them.”
“Where did the journal come from?” I asked, my eyes zeroing in on the well-worn leather journal my father had set on his desk.
“This,” he replied, tapping the old journal, “belonged to Ellawaya, firstborn of Aleida, heir of the Brujas de Sangre and the bride of one Francis Drake. She recorded what she could of her youth, in the hope that she might one day teach her own children. My father taught me nothing of it, but the journal still contains a few of her notes and some stories of her time in the temple as well as the village she was born in. Fortunately, much of it is in old English with hints of Spanish influence.”
I shook my head in disbelief, my breath quickening as my temper flared. “You’ve had these the whole time and never told me? All my life I’ve been hunting for information on our curse, but I’ve been doing it with one hand tied behind my back. This journal could have helped me.”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Frank replied. “I have been over every inch of them. Without the mask, there was nothing to translate. A few bits of history along with anecdotes about her life in Panama, and her training in the temple. It seems she had doubts and reservations about the obligations and responsibilities that were placed upon her. Sounds like someone I know.”
“Clearly a familial streak,” I replied. “Good thing too, otherwise we’d never have been born.”
“True,” Frank said, sliding the journal across the table. “Take that with you. Perhaps it will help us translate the inscriptions on the mask, and gain access to the temple.”
“No indication as to where it might be?” I asked, picking up the journal off the table.
“There are no clues as to its location.” Frank leaned back in his chair. “I scoured every inch of the journals, but there is no mention of it. Perhaps Ellawaya didn’t want her posterity to return there. We know that during his time in Panama, Francis attacked a number of Spanish forts. We know that ships were sunk off Portobello and that was the site he chose for his fake burial at sea. I’ve always supposed that the temple couldn’t be too far from the old town. I even purchased an old goldmine there once in the hope that it might be nearby. The mine was dry, and I never found any signs of the temple. I sold it years ago and haven’t heard word of anything of note in the area since.”
“Clearly the Inquisition know something we don’t,” I replied, setting the journal in my lap.
He nodded. “Not surprising. Spanish Colonials dominated the region. It’s possible that their archives contain clues that our records do not. After all, the Spanish presence in the region was devoted to finding gold to ferry back to Spain to fund its war effort, and we both know where the greatest repository of gold would have been found.”
I leaned back in my chair, as I connected the dots. “The temple of Brujas de Sangre. With the power of their bloodline the High Priestess could ensure they never ran out.”
Frank plucked a letter opener off the desk. The blade was a simple affair, stainless steel that narrowed to a point, sharp enough to open a letter, but not much else. Holding it in his hand, he began to whisper. I could feel the ebb and flow of power around him as he channeled his will into the letter opener. Starting at where it touched his fingers, the stainless steel glowed like the sun. The light moved steadily up the tool and as it faded, the stainless steel was gone. The letter opener had turned to solid gold.
It was the bloodline gift and the greatest secret of the bloodline of the Brujas de Sangre.
It was the gift that came hand in hand with our curse. The High Priestess had been a source of unending wealth for her people, and her daughter Ellawaya had been set to take her mother’s place. Their gift had prospered their village for countless generations. Gold had been a commodity for trade and crafting long before the Spanish arrived. The ability to transmute other matter into gold had ensured her village prospered.
But rather than follow in her mother’s footsteps, Ellawaya had taken her gift and fled, abandoning the temple and her people to start a new life with the charismatic captain. Francis Drake had been a wealthy man, but when he returned to England as Francis Caldwell, Ellawaya’s gift meant he would never need to work again.
For the last four hundred years, Caldwell descendants had used that same talent to curry power and favor throughout the world. The Caldwell gift had built a dynasty, bolstered the flagging British Empire, and given birth to the Brotherhood.
Unfortunately, the high priestess had taken her daughter’s abandonment as a bitter betrayal and had used her power to curse her and her posterity, in an unending blood curse that still afflicted them—us.
Frank set down the golden letter opener. The creases at the corner of his eyes seemed a little deeper than they had been a moment ago.
He sighed. “I ought not to do that as much as I do. It’s the only thing that seems to shut off this voice in my head. I feel like an addict scratching an itch, but the voice always comes back. Perhaps it’s my mind, but it always seems stronger, keen to exact a price for my use of her gifts.”
“It’s not like we chose this,” I replied, clutching the journal. “The choices were made by others hundreds of years before we were born. Now we bear the consequences for their actions.”
Frank picked up the mask. “All fates are not equal. We have our burden, but we also have the power. What we do with it will define how we are remembered.”
“I need to do a lot more living before I can be remembered,” I replied, picking a piece of lint off my suit. “Did you have any luck with the Red Knight?”
Frank drummed his fingers on the desk. “I did.”
I leaned forward in anticipation. “What did he say? Does he know anything about the Inquisition?”
“I wasn’t that specific. I didn’t want to scare him off. But he has agreed to meet you. He’ll see you at the Royal Albert Hall at three, but be careful.”
“I know. I’ll be wary,” I replied, considering carefully exactly what I might ask the Red Knight. I needed answers and I needed them as soon as possible.
Frank rested his head on his hand. “You’ll need to be more than wary. Edward sounded excited to hear from me. It was unsettling. There is a mutual respect between our organization and his, but there is something else afoot and I don’t know what it is. You must tread carefully. Everyone has their own agenda. Make the deal and get out.”
I racked my brain for potential pitfalls. “You don’t think he’d sell me to the Inquisition, do you? He could be in league with them?”
Frank considered that for a moment. “It’s possible, but to hand you over to them would be tantamount to declaring war on the Brotherhood and Edward Knight is a businessman, not a warmonger. War is bad for business and the bottom line. There must be something else at play. Find out what you can of the temple’s location and let him move on with his day. Whatever happens, don’t let him drag you into his web.”
I nodded. I might moonlight as a thief, but I had no desire to apprentice to a criminal overlord. As I contemplated the coming meeting, I had to hope Knight’s price was one I would be able to pay.
“I’ll do my best, but I’m not leaving empty handed. If the meeting is at three, when do we leave?”
“Charles is already in the car waiting for you. I’ll stay here and work on the mask. We’ll get together tonight and compare notes.”
I rose from the chair and made for the door. As my hand touched the handle, I paused. “Thanks, Dad.”
“For what?” he asked, leaning heavily on the desk.
“I guess I didn’t realize how much time and effort you had put into chasing this curse. I always figured you were indifferent.”
He frowned. “Not indifferent, just without hope. I have thrown everything I could at this curse until I simply ran out of options. Until today. The mask changes things. It changes everything.”
I let myself out of the study. I certainly hoped the discovery would lead to a cure. It was good to see some hope in my father’s face again. Life without hope was a cruel fate.
We still needed to find the temple, but the whereabouts had eluded my father for his entire life. As I bounded down the stairs to the waiting Jaguar, I couldn’t help but feel we were closer than we had ever been to answers. Unfortunately, one deadly obstacle still loomed between me and the knowledge I needed.
Edward Knight, the connoisseur of crime.