Hatshepsut's Collar (The Artifact Hunters #2) (32 page)

he Hellcat bobbed on the gentle swell of the river. The movement was sufficient to shift the gangplank under Cara’s feet as she left Russian soil, making her grasp the rail, lest she take an unexpected dip in the frigid water. Darkness still clung to the Earth, but dawn drew a faint line of colour, bleeding upward as the sun stirred below the horizon.

Loki met them on deck. Two silent crewmen stood at attention behind him. Black jackets merged with the dim light and made them appear offshoots of their captain’s shadow. He gave a vague hand gesture, somewhere between a salute and a wave, in the direction of Nate.

“Time we left,” Nate said with one hand resting in the small of Cara’s back. The heat from the contact spread over her back, despite the numerous layers of clothing to ward off the chilly Russian autumn.

Loki gave a nod and began barking orders. The crewmens’ shadows detached and flowed in different directions. Each yelled clipped orders, one to the bridge through an open window and the other to the men standing by the tether lines.

Cara passed into the corridor. Soft light spread from lamps hanging at eye level. The floor tilted and lurched under her body like a boat rolling on a sudden wave. Nate coiled a strong arm around her waist to hold her steady, his other bracing against the wall. She left her stomach somewhere on the ground and it belatedly caught up, slamming back into her torso. Her gaze flew to the open door and the rapidly receding view of St. Petersburg. Clouds tinged with the silver light of early morning replaced onion domes. The Hellcat, released from its earthly tethers, shot into the air like a bullet from a gun.

“Just as well we’re on our way.” Nate released her once the Hellcat levelled out. “Nolton will be hard on our heels once he recovers from his hangover.”

“Nothing like a quick early morning escape to stimulate the senses!” Loki’s laughter and beaming presence filled the door to the deck. “Nate, your admirer was heading our way with a small contingent. I thought you might want to get the jump on him.”

“I thought as much. We need to see the dragons safe without him breathing down our necks. Nikolai and I have arranged a wee surprise that should keep him busy.” A wide smile spread across his face.

Cara sucked in a breath; Nate was never more handsome than when up to something. “What have you done, now?”

His blue eyes twinkled. “Yesterday we anchored his airship to the deepest and strongest piles we could find. They won’t notice until they try to ascend, and find themselves tethered like a dog chained to a tree. Hopefully they will charge off and be jerked back to Earth. It will buy us some time.”

Cara wondered who went for a swim in the freezing waters to attach the chains. “Will it damage his airship?”

Loki shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. “Rather depends how keen he is to try and jump us and how heavy he is on the throttle.”

Her gaze returned to Nate. “Which means?”

The smile remained on his face. “If he guns the engines too soon he could rip a hole in the side of his ship when the lines pull taut, or he could end up with a mooring pile speared through his bridge.”

She kissed his cheek sharing the laughter. “Honestly, for a supposed hardened crime lord, I think beneath that surface lurks a naughty schoolboy.”

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his gaze blazing hotter and heating her down to her core. “I’m happy to show you what my naughty schoolboy can get up to.”

She batted his hand away, unsure how to respond to the new and mischievous Nate. “I’m going to get changed. Alone.” She waggled a warning finger in his direction.

His smile dropped away to be replaced by a more serious intent. “Meet us in the lounge and we’ll show the eggs to Sergei.”

She dashed down the corridor to the cabin she shared with Nate. Excitement lit a fire under her feet, eager to hold a particular egg in her arms. She stripped off her more elaborate skirts and dropped them to the floor. Flipping the lid on her small steamer chest, she grabbed pants, her favourite blue and green corset, and a deep green wool coat. Once dressed in comfortable clothes, she headed down the short corridor to a set of double sliding doors. Nate, Loki, and Sergei waited in the small lounge. Sergei took up half the available space, his eyes boring into the small chest, his nostrils flaring as though he could scent the contents. Nate leaned against the dark panelled wall, a chisel in one hand. Loki stretched his lean body along the sofa as though dragon egg cargo was an everyday occurrence.

Cara knelt on the floor in front of the tea chest, her heart pounding as Nate moved and levered off the lid. Like a child on Christmas morning who knows exactly what is waiting under the tree, she reached out eager hands to help brush away the covering of tea leaves. She inhaled bergamot and lemon, a scent that would forever mean
dragon
in her mind. She picked her favourite egg and lifted it from the substitute nest. Larger than the other two, the shell was mottled with tiny auburn veins interwoven over the surface. She caressed the exterior and crooned to the ancient creature asleep within as she cradled it to her chest.

Warmth radiated from the egg as though Cara clutched a heated brick from in front of the fireplace. Pressing her cheek to the rough shell, she listened for the steady heartbeat from deep within.

I’m holding a dragon egg
, and she couldn’t wipe the grin off her face.

Sergei examined the other two smaller eggs. He turned each in his large hands, using his fingertips with a light caress over the entire shell, tracing grooves and lines in the exterior, checking for any imperfections or damage. He held each to his ear, listening for the faint
whump-whump
from inside. Worry creased the corners of his face, his eyes almost disappearing as the weathered furrows overtook them. He settled the valuable cargo back into their tea nest.

“How old are they?” he asked of Nate.

“My sources were vague.” Nate shrugged, his attention held by Cara. “We didn’t have much time to talk while breaking out of the Forbidden City. Possibly twenty years old.”

Cara shook her head in amazement, twenty years and still the dragons lay trapped inside their eggs.
What is their lifespan if it takes so many years for them to just be born?

“Poor thing,” she muttered. “No wonder you need Sergei to protect you, so vulnerable like this and imprisoned for such a long time.” She brushed her lips against the shell. The egg jerked and spasmed in her embrace. A yelp tore from her throat and she nearly dropped the priceless object. A crack rent the air, loud as an axe splitting firewood. Cara stared in horror as a thin jagged line appeared and crawled for several inches through the tough shell before stopping.

“Shit! Did I break it?” She turned eyes wide with horror and distress to Sergei. She half expected the overprotective dragon master to toss her off the Hellcat into the freezing Neva for harming one of his eggs.

His face scrunched up before the booming laugh filled the small lounge. “
Nyet
, little one. It is time. This one, he wants to meet you.”

His words didn’t reassure her; neither of the other eggs were cracked, just the one she always stroked. “It’s hatching?” Cara held the egg at arm’s length, praying she wouldn’t end up clutching an enraged fire breathing dragon.

“
Da
. It will still be a few days. Shell is very tough. But it has started.”

She returned the egg to the chest, nestled with its siblings and scooped tea over the top. She worried over the mythical creatures.
What happens if we have three dragons loose on the Hellcat?

“How long will it take to travel to Sergei’s home?” Her gaze darted from the calm presence of Nate to the solid Sergei.

Nate answered. “We’re travelling to the Central Plateau; we should reach the hideout late tomorrow afternoon. Loki will push the Hellcat hard; we have a lot of ground to cover.”

Loki dropped his feet to the floor. “Speaking of which, I shall go do captain things and make sure we’re not being followed … and I’ll even rustle up breakfast.”

A small matter nagged at Cara. She pointed a finger at Loki. “Hang on, what have you done with Miguel?” His absence added to her worry catalogue and she hoped he wasn’t sleeping off a hangover in some cheap brothel.

Loki spread his hands. “He’s learning the ropes as a crewman.”

“So you’ve set him to work?” Cara’s eyes narrowed, searching for the subtext in the pirate’s words.

He gave Cara a wink. “Damn straight.”

“All right, then.” She sighed. At least Miguel was out of trouble and occupied.

Morning passed with a large breakfast. Sergei devoured more food than Cara believed one person could consume. Then hours ticked by, endless forest passed beneath the airship and she took over the sofa.
Magycks of the Gods
rested on her stomach, and her father’s small journal lay open on the low table. The dragon eggs slumbered in the chest. Cara cast nervous glances in their direction, expecting to see a head prop open the lid or dragon breath to set fire to the thin wood.

Nate entered the lounge, picked up her feet, and settled on the end of the sofa. He placed her legs on his lap and rested his hands on her booted ankles. “So, where did this necklace come from? What is its history?”

Cara closed the medieval book, reciting from memory. “It came from Hatshepsut, Queen of Egypt. She reigned until 1458 BC. A mage gifted the collar to her after the death of her husband, Thutmoses. Shortly after, seemingly not content to be a regent, she took the regalia and insignia of pharaoh. She took the power and control of men.”

Nate stroked his hand up her calf. “Sounds like another troublesome woman.”

Cara snorted with indignation. “Hatshepsut was the most prosperous ruler of Egypt. She excelled at war craft and opened previously unknown trade routes. She amassed the wealth that supported the rest of the eighteenth dynasty. She was one of the first great women of history.” Cara tried to ignore the hand massaging her leg and creeping to stroke the sensitive flesh behind her knee. She scolded her brain, telling it to stick to academic matters. “No wonder Thutmoses III tried to strike her name from history, scrubbing her cartouche from monuments. Maybe he couldn’t live up to the precedent she set.”

“So how did this particular necklace become an artifact of interest?” Nate’s hands stilled as he listened to the story.

“I have no idea. Perhaps she infused it with her spirit and determination while alive? Perhaps the mage spoke some words of power over the object before he gave the necklace to her? When Hatshepsut died, she was buried with the thing. At some point, her tomb was disturbed and the necklace removed. There are two mechanical scarabs; one sits on each shoulder, whispering into the ear of the wearer. The legends say the scarabs generate power and feed it through the person’s body. Like a drug, it poisons their system. Over time, they crave more power to sustain the same euphoria.”

“Have you figured out how to remove the necklace from Victoria?” His fingers resumed their slow path over her buckskin clad legs.

“Yes, and it’s not good.” She tossed the heavy book onto the coffee table.

He raised a dark eyebrow waiting silently for her to continue. He moved to rest his arm along the back of the sofa.

“Removing the necklace requires the ultimate sacrifice.” She raised her eyes to meet Nate’s steel gaze. “Someone has to absorb the power generated by the mechanical scarabs.”

His fingers tapped on the patterned fabric as he mulled over her words. “Could we talk her into removing it herself?”

“Even if we could, and judging by Albert’s message I think we are too late, it would have the same effect. If she removes it by her own hand, she dies.”

“You’re sure?” He lifted her feet and rose to prowl the confines of the room.

“There are only two other documented cases that I can find. Alexander the Great found it and wore it on his march across Asia and into India. Such was the love Hephaestion bore for Alexander and his concern about the path of destruction of his beloved friend that he tore the collar from around Alexander’s neck and then died in his arms.”