Something was wrong.

“Is Zovastina coming for the woman?” O’Conner asked.

“It’s possible. But how would she know this fast?”

Zovastina would never have imagined what he was planning. True, she distrusted him as he distrusted her, but there was no reason for any show of force. Not now, anyway. Then there was Venice, and what happened when he’d moved on Stephanie Nelle. And the Americans?

What didn’t he know?

“They’re swinging around to land,” O’Conner said from the windows.

“Go get her.”

O’Conner dashed from the room.

Vincenti slid open one of the desk drawers and removed a pistol. They’d yet to hire the full security contingent the estate would ultimately require. That would all be done in the coming weeks, while Zovastina occupied herself preparing for war. He’d planned to use that diversion to its fullest.

Karyn Walde entered the library, wearing a bathrobe and slippers. Standing, on her own. O’Conner followed.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Better than I have in months. I can walk.”

Already, a doctor was en route from Venice who would treat her secondary infections. Lucky for her, they were remediable. “It’ll take a few days for your body to start a full recovery. But the virus is right now being assaulted by a predator against which it has no defense. As, by the way, are we.”

O’Conner assumed a position at the window. “They’re on the ground. Troops. Asians. Looks like they’re hers.”

He faced Walde. “Seems Irina may want you back. We’re not sure what’s happening.”

He stepped across the room to a built-in bookcase with ornate glass-fronted doors. The wood had come from China, along with the craftsman who’d made the piece. But O’Conner had added something extra. He pressed a button on a pocket controller and a spring-loaded mechanism above and below the cabinet released, allowing the heavy case to rotate one hundred and eighty degrees. Beyond was a lighted passageway.

Walde was impressed. “Like in a damn horror movie.”

“Which is what this may become,” he said. “Peter, see what they want and express my regrets that I wasn’t here to greet them.” He motioned to Walde. “Follow me.”

STEPHANIE’S HANDS STILL SHOOK AS SHE WATCHED ELY DRAG THE body around to the rear of the cabin. She still did not like the fact that Zovastina knew they were in the Federation. Not particularly smart to alert a person with the kind of resources at her disposal. She had to trust that Thorvaldsen knew what he was doing, particularly since his butt was on the line, too.

Ely emerged from the cabin’s front door, followed by Thorvaldsen. He held an arm full of books and paper. “I’ll need these.”

She was watching the lane leading back to the highway. All seemed quiet. Thorvaldsen came up beside her. He noticed her shaking hand and calmly grasped it. Neither of them said a word. She still held the gun, her palm sweaty. Her mind needed to focus, so she asked, “What exactly are we going to do?”

“We know the location,” Ely said. “Klimax. So let’s go see what’s there. It’s worth a look.”

She fought to recall Ptolemy’s words and repeated them, “Climb the god-built walls. When you reach the attic, gaze into the tawny eye, and dare to find the distant refuge.”

“I remember the riddle,” Ely said. “I need to check some information, spur my memory, but I can do that along the way.”

She wanted to know, “Why did Zovastina go after the elephant medallions?”

“I pointed out a connection between a mark on the medallions and the riddle. A symbol, like two Bs joined to an A. It’s on one side of the medallion and in the riddle. They had to be significant. Since there were only eight known, she said she’d acquire them all for comparison. But she told me she was going to buy them.”

“Not hardly,” Stephanie said. “I’m still baffled. All of this is over two thousand years old. Wouldn’t anything that existed have been found by now?”

Ely shrugged. “Hard to say. Let’s face it, the clues have not been out in the open. It took X-ray fluorescence to find the important stuff.”

“But Zovastina wants it. Whatever it is.”

Ely nodded. “In her mind, which I always thought was a little weird, she’s Alexander, or Achilles, or some other epic hero. It’s a romantic vision she seems to enjoy. A quest. She believes there might be some sort of cure out there. She talked about that a lot. That was most important to her, but I don’t know why.” Ely paused. “I won’t say that it wasn’t important to me, too. Her enthusiasm became infectious. I actually started to believe there might be something to find.”

She could see he was troubled by all that had happened, so she offered, “You might be right.”

“That would be amazing, wouldn’t it?”

“But how could there be any connection between St. Mark and Alexander the Great?” Thorvaldsen asked.

“We know that Alexander’s body was in Alexandria up to 391 CE, when paganism was finally outlawed. But there’s no mention of it ever again, anywhere, after that. St. Mark’s body reappears in Alexandria around 400 CE. Remember, pagan relics were routinely adopted for Christian purposes.

“There are lots of examples I’ve read about from Alexandria. A bronze idol of Saturn in the Caesareum was melted down to cast a cross for the patriarch of Alexandria. The Caesareum itself became a Christian cathedral. My theory, from reading everything I could on St. Mark and Alexander, was that some fourth-century patriarch conceived a way to not only preserve the corpse of the city’s founder, but to furnish Christianity with a potent relic. A win/win. So Alexander simply became St. Mark. Who’d know the difference?”

“Sounds like a long shot,” she said.

“I don’t know. You tell me Ptolemy left something in that mummy in the basilica that led you straight here. I’d say theory is now firmly entrenched in reality.”

“He’s right,” Thorvaldsen said. “It’s worth going south to take a look.”

She didn’t necessarily agree, but any place was preferable to here. At least they’d be on the move. But something occurred to her. “You said the area where Klimax is located is now privately owned. We could have trouble gaining access.”

Ely smiled. “Maybe the new owner will let us have a look around.”

SEVENTY-FIVE

MALONE WAS TRAPPED. HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN. VIKTOR HAD led him straight to Zovastina.

“Come to save Ms. Vitt?”

He still held the gun.

Zovastina motioned. “Who do you plan to kill? Choose between the three of us.” She pointed at her guardsmen. “One of them will shoot you before you can shoot the other.” She displayed her knife. “And then I’ll cut these ropes.”

All true. His options were limited.

“Take him,” she ordered the guards.

One of the men rushed forward, but a new sound captured Malone’s attention. Baying. Growing louder. The guard was ten feet away when goats rushed from the other path that led back to the buzkashi field. First a few, then the entire herd exploded into the clearing.

Hooves thumped the earth.

Malone spotted Viktor atop a horse, keeping the oversized animals bunched, trying not to break their advance. A lumbering pace increased into a rush, the rear shoving the front, forcing the confused goats forward. Their unexpected appearance seemed to generate the desired effect. The guards were momentarily confused and Malone used that instant to shoot the one in front of him.

Another pop and the second guard dropped to the ground.

Malone saw that Viktor had fired the shot.

The goats crowded the clearing, milling into one another, still baffled, slowly realizing the only way out was through the trees.

Dust stirred the air.