Time Dancers (31 page)

On the top step, we paused and stared at the amazing structure Rune had begun and the Fleur-du-Mal had completed. Made of iron, stone, and glass, the long greenhouse glowed like a warm lamp against the frozen background of rock and snow. Then we heard the music, barely audible and coming from inside the greenhouse. It was a recording. The melody was haunting, spare, and beautiful. I looked at Opari and Mowsel. Mowsel whispered, “Mozart—Piano Concerto Number 23 in A—Adagio. My favorite.”

The entrance itself was recessed in the wall and the door was in shadow. On either side, the glass windows were fogged over, but only the lower panes. Opari stood watch inside the recess while I climbed on Mowsel’s shoulders and peered into a higher window. I looked inside. The rose garden was directly beneath me. Dozens and dozens of rosebushes, all in red, were planted in perfect rows. All had been tended immaculately. Bright lights shone down at certain angles, capable of creating the illusion of different times of day and seasons. The soil in which the roses were planted was dark and rich. Svein had said the foundation was three meters deep and could be heated from below, if needed. Deep within the garden, a space had been cleared. In the center of the space stood a rare Ming Dynasty three-panel screen. It was positioned behind the phonograph playing the music. Six feet away a boy was snipping and trimming a rosebush while Mozart played. He wore leather boots laced to the knees. His dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail and tied with a green ribbon. He had his back to me. He worked carefully on the roses and made each cut with precision. Suddenly he stopped and laid down his scissors. A second passed—two, three, a dozen—finally, slowly, his head turned in my direction. Then I saw it, there in his pierced ear. This boy was not wearing the ruby earrings of the Fleur-du-Mal. He was wearing Usoa’s blue diamond. It was Zuriaa!

She knew exactly where I was and looked in my eyes. A cruel smile crossed her face. She laughed and walked over to the standing screen. She folded back two of the panels, revealing a girl, a black girl, gagged with a red scarf and bound to a chair with rope. Her skin was the color of coffee beans, rich and dark. Her hair was black, silky, and cropped close to her head. Susheela the Ninth. In her lap was a small black box made of onyx, inlaid on top with a unique design in serpentine and lapis lazuli—the Octopus. She glared up at Zuriaa with fury in her green eyes. Zuriaa walked behind her and withdrew a curved dagger from her boot. She jerked back Susheela the Ninth’s chin with one hand and lightly traced the long knife blade across her throat, smiling at me as she did it.

I stood down from Mowsel’s shoulders and started to tell him what I’d seen. He shook his head and nodded toward the recess in the wall. I turned.

“Bonsoir, mon petit,”
a soft, familiar voice said from the shadows.

My heart froze, but I said nothing.

“You are late,” he said. “What kept you, pray tell?”

I took a deep breath and glanced at Mowsel. “Yes, well…it snowed.”

I heard a rustling sound and a gasp from Opari. He pushed her forward and they came into the light. The Fleur-du-Mal was standing behind Opari. He was dressed in black and silver fur and leather. He held Opari’s head at an angle with one hand and a dagger to her throat with the other. Her eyes stared into mine. I saw anger and concern, but no fear. I told myself to calm down. Inside the greenhouse, the music had stopped playing.

“What do you think of Askenfada?” he asked, smiling.

“I think it’s lonely.”

His smile faded. “You are like your pitiful grandfather, Zezen, and all the others—you know nothing of true beauty!” He forced Opari forward slightly, pressing the knife harder against her throat and bringing a trace of blood. “Do you still think of this ancient girl as
beauty
?” he asked, holding Opari’s head at a severe angle, then licking her on the cheek and neck. He looked me in the eyes. “Shall I kill her now,
mon petit
?”

Rune saw me start forward and held me back.

The Fleur-du-Mal laughed sarcastically. “You make me sick to my stomach!” He spit at the ground.

I said nothing. Absolute silence surrounded us. Our breathing was the only sound I could hear. Several seconds passed. “Call the others,” he said finally. “I tire of this charade. I know where they are.” He nodded toward each of the entrances. “It is time.”

“Time for what?”

“I have a surprise for all of you,” he said. “Do it!” he whispered through clenched white teeth. He pulled Opari’s head back again with a jerk of her hair, baring her throat to the light. He pressed the knife down even harder, drawing more blood. “And please, Zezen, do not yell. It could prove dangerous.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I didn’t hesitate to do what he said. I stood clear of the entrance and waved to Sailor, ninety feet away, and Geaxi, thirty feet closer. They were barely visible through the falling snow.

Before they approached, the Fleur-du-Mal backed Opari into the shadows of the entrance. As they came closer, he whispered their names, even Nova and Rune. The last to appear was Zeru-Meq. “Well, well, well,” he said, “I never expected you, Uncle.”

Quietly, cautiously, Sailor passed the others and walked up to me. He looked once at Mowsel, then asked, “What have you seen, Zianno?”

I didn’t answer.

In a soft snarl from the shadows, the Fleur-du-Mal said, “The Holy Grail, Sailor…Zezen has seen the Holy Grail.”

All the others stopped in their tracks when they heard his voice. He prodded Opari forward into the light. Sailor glanced at Opari and the dagger at her throat, but showed no emotion or reaction. In his own calm voice, he asked, “What do you mean, ‘the Holy Grail’?”

“The very thing you seek, Umla-Meq, possibly more than me—the Octopus and the old one who stole it.”

Zeru-Meq took a few steps forward. “Happy Birthday, Xanti,” he said.

“Stop there, Uncle! Go no farther or I will take Opari’s life in an instant!” the Fleur-du-Mal snapped. “None of you move,” he said to the rest. Gradually, his smile returned. He looked at Mowsel. “You,” he said, “raise Sailor on your shoulders as you did Zezen. I want Sailor especially to see for himself.”

Mowsel glanced at me, then put his hands on his knees and squatted down, letting Sailor climb onto his shoulders. He stood upright and Sailor leaned against the glass window and gazed inside. When his eyes found Zuriaa and Susheela the Ninth with the Octopus in her lap, he almost lost his balance, then he seemed lost in something else. He stared in frozen silence for thirty seconds. He seemed to be listening more than watching. Slowly, he turned his head, looking at the Fleur-du-Mal with ultimate contempt. Sailor was furious, but his voice remained calm. “What is this about, you madman?”

“Get down now, Umla-Meq, and go stand with the others. You do the same, Uncle.”

Sailor surveyed everything around him with his eyes. He looked once at Opari, then hopped down with barely a sound and took a few steps toward the others. He stopped suddenly and said to the Fleur-du-Mal, “By the way, would there happen to be a Sixth Stone inside the little box? I was just curious, but you are not obligated to answer, of course.”

The Fleur-du-Mal laughed bitterly. “At the moment, the Stone is elsewhere. The ancient black witch refuses to tell me where it is, poor thing. She will surely regret that decision, just as she will surely lead me to it.” He paused. “She is not
obligated,
of course.” He laughed again, a hollow sound, and no one laughed with him.

“I see Zuriaa does your bidding,” I said. “I thought you told me she was insane and hated you.”

“Oh, make no mistake,
mon petit,
Zuriaa is quite insane. I simply found I could use her skills and easily directed her hatred to fear and then into worship, of a sort. As long as she continues to be able to function and be of value, she will be used.” He paused again. Sailor had stopped next to Zeru-Meq and Rune. “Enough of this chatter,” the Fleur-du-Mal said. “Zezen, you stand with the others. The moment is at hand.”

“Why are we here?” Geaxi asked.

“Ah, my dear Geaxi, you have surely noticed by now that all five Stones are present, have you not? It occurred to me once I had found the black girl, the other five Stones were no longer relevant, nor the Meq who carried them. I threw some crumbs out and each of you came eagerly, like blind mice. But I digress. To answer your query, Geaxi, you are here to die. It is unfortunate about Uncle being present, but
c’est la vie.
”

Zeru-Meq spoke. “You and I both know why you want the Sixth Stone, Xanti, and why you are obsessed with these roses. You cannot erase it or make it go away. The Stone will make no difference.”

“Silence!” the Fleur-du-Mal screamed. “You know nothing!”

“I saw what I saw,” Zeru-Meq said.

“You saw what you wanted to see. You always have, Uncle. And now, sadly, you shall have to die with the others. Raza, come into the light!”

The tall Indian man named Raza Vejahashala walked quietly from the shadows, opening the greenhouse door behind him as he stepped forward. The light from inside framed the Fleur-du-Mal and Opari in silhouette. The dagger was still at her throat.

Raza wore a long, full-length fur coat. Before anyone knew exactly what he was doing, he withdrew a coiled black bullwhip from his coat, which he unwound and held at arm’s length. The Fleur-du-Mal said,
“Gjensyn, mon petit.”
Raza raised his arm in a quick, fluid motion, then cracked the whip as hard as he could. The crack sounded like a high-powered rifle shot. It echoed off the rock overhang surrounding the greenhouse, then rose up the steep ridge above. The stillness afterward lasted ten seconds before we heard something faint and far away. It sounded like a waterfall high in the mountains. In moments, I realized it was not a waterfall—it was snow, a wall of snow dislodged from the ridge by the crack of the bullwhip and falling fast. We had seconds to escape. I looked in Opari’s eyes. She was staring back at me.

In that same instant, the Fleur-du-Mal released Opari, giving her a boot in the back, which sent her lunging toward me. He laughed as loud as he could, telling Opari, “Go die with the others!” He and Raza ducked back into the greenhouse and closed the door. I caught Opari and the two of us turned in one motion and started running for the edge of the terrace. There was no time to take the stone stairway. I glanced once at the others. Everyone was running. Rune stumbled and fell. Zeru-Meq tried to help him and was knocked down. I thought I saw Sailor turning back to help them both. We ran for the edge and bounded into the air, falling twenty-five feet to the next terrace. We tumbled over and over, then regained our footing and ran to the edge of that terrace and jumped again. We landed, ran, and jumped again. Small clumps of snow and rock hit us from behind and above as we ran. I could hear the roar as the avalanche came thundering down from the overhang, burying the greenhouse and everything around it.

Finally, luckily, on the fourth terrace down from the top, we were safe. I was certain I had broken my ankle, but I knew it would heal within hours. Opari had only a few cuts and bruises. Geaxi, Nova, Ray, and Trumoi-Meq all made it without serious injury. Sailor and Zeru-Meq had been partially buried on the third terrace down, but they survived and crawled to safety.

Rune had not been so lucky. He did not possess our speed and was caught and buried under a wall of snow. In seconds, the greenhouse and all the roses inside had disappeared forever. I looked up the steep slope to where they had been moments earlier. Now there was only a giant swirling cloud of snow rising in the silence. The Fleur-du-Mal destroyed his own creation in order to destroy all of us. Except for Rune Balle, his plan failed. But where was the Fleur-du-Mal? It was too late in the day to find the answer or search for Rune’s body. We had been fooled, trapped, and nearly killed. I was the only one with broken bones, but everyone was bruised or bleeding somewhere. We got our bearings and Sailor led the way down to the dock. We found the fishing boat and climbed on board. Ray started the engines. As we pulled out in the cove, I looked down to the covered slip where the speedboat had been anchored when we arrived. The slip was empty.

As we stepped from the boat onto Svein’s dock, Sailor grabbed my arm and pulled me aside. His “ghost eye” was filled with clouds. “She spoke to me, Zianno,” he whispered.

I said nothing at first, then I understood.

“Did she speak to you, Zianno?”

“No, she was bound and gagged,” I said. “How did she speak?”

“From inside with a voice I recognized in my heart of hearts. I heard her clearly.”

Sailor looked across the cove. It was nearly dark. He squinted and stared up the slope to where the greenhouse had been. Then he shook his head back and forth.

“What?” I asked.

“She told me over and over there is no Sixth Stone—the Octopus is an empty box! She remains alive only because the Fleurdu-Mal thinks she has hidden it from him.”

I followed Sailor’s gaze across the cove. I thought about what he said. I had no doubt Susheela the Ninth was capable of speaking with her mind. I knew the instant I looked in her eyes she was older than all of us beyond measure. “Do you believe her?”

“Yes.”

I turned and looked at Sailor. As he stared up the slope his “ghost eye” cleared. He seemed frozen again, detached, more listening than watching. “It was Deza’s voice I heard.” He turned his head and looked deep in my eyes. “She spoke in Deza’s voice, Zianno.” Deza, Sailor’s Ameq, had been decapitated by the Phoenicians in Carthage almost three thousand years earlier. Sailor never imagined he would hear her voice again, but Susheela the Ninth had somehow found what was deepest in his heart and mind and spoken to him in the same voice.

An hour later, after we changed clothes and warmed ourselves around Svein’s roaring fire, we gathered in the kitchen to discuss how we might recover Rune’s body. Svein said he could hire a crew in Voss the next day. The snow must be removed before it built up on the ridge again. Mowsel suggested the rest of us stay out of sight until the crew finished the job, in order to avoid any unnecessary questions. I kept thinking of Penelope and Knut. I knew how this would break their hearts, but I also knew I must be the one to tell them. We would find Rune’s body and I would take him home to them. Opari sensed what I was thinking and held my hand in hers. Together, all of us decided not to discuss anything further that evening. We each knew how lucky we were to be alive. It was time to rest.