Obsidian Prey

by Jayne Castle

  “Do not try to deceive me. I know what the scientists and the researchers at the AI lab do not know. You found three of the pyramid stones.”

  She was stunned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Of course you do. What’s more, you can work the stones.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “The only reason you would have taken care to conceal those particular stones from Amber Inc. is because you recognized their power. As soon as I researched your genealogical records, my conclusions were confirmed.”

  “You researched my ancestry?”

  “It’s all there in the records of the Arcane Society, my dear. As is the information that only one who is descended from a long line of crystal workers can rez the full latent energy of the stone. You are that woman.”

  She stopped halfway down the staircase and turned to look at him. “You’re a member of the Arcane Society?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wait a second. Are you telling me that the Society has my genealogical records?”

  “One of your ancestors who came through the Curtain was Arcane. Didn’t you know that?”

  “No, I sure as heck did not know that.”

  “She evidently lost her connection with the Society during the Colonial era,” Quinn said. “That was not unusual. Life was hard and chaotic in those early years. People were focused on survival. Many members of the Society drifted away. Their descendants have forgotten their roots.”

  “I can’t believe this. The Society lets just anyone use their records to research someone else’s family tree?”

  “There is nothing private about an individual’s family tree, either within the Society or outside of it,” Quinn said.

  “There sure as heck ought to be.”

  “Anger is a destructive emotion.”

  “No shit.”

  She arrived at the last step. On one side of the subbasement wall psi light glowed through the ragged crack in green quartz. She clicked off the flashlight and went toward it. Quinn followed.

  “All right, I’m here with you in the tunnels,” Lyra said, moving through the opening. “Where is Nancy?”

  “Patience, Lyra. That was always your problem in meditation class. You never achieved a proper degree of harmonic balance.” Quinn checked a locator. “Take the first turn to the right.”

  Obediently she went toward the first intersection. The heels of her shoes clicked lightly on the quartz floor of the tunnel. “What is it with you, anyway? Amethyst is just a pretty gemstone. Okay, I can generate some attractive images in the relics that came out of the ruin. But when you get right down to it, those chunks of amber are nothing more than alien sculptures.”

  “Raw amber may have its limitations, but some of the amber artifacts that were created by the aliens are imbued with great power.”

  “I’m telling you, they’re just a bunch of carved rocks.”

  “Not all of them,” Quinn said gently. “Not the pyramids.” His voice sharpened abruptly. “Move, woman.”

  When she did not follow instructions quickly enough, she got another taste of a psychically induced dreamscape. This one warped the already odd proportions of the catacombs into a deeply disturbing world. She froze, terrified that in her disoriented state she would stumble into an alien illusion trap or an energy ghost.

  “Remember, your friend’s life depends on you,” Quinn said, voice sharpening again.

  He released her from the hallucination. She sucked in a deep breath and continued down the hall.

  “What, exactly, do you want from me?” she said. “Aside from the ultimate harmonic relationship thing, I mean.”

  “Don’t pretend to be naïve, Lyra. It doesn’t suit you. You’re going to tune those three very special amethyst relics for me.”

  “What makes you so sure I’ve got them? I’m telling you, AI confiscated everything in that ruin.”

  “Your friend Nancy tells a different story. She said you stashed the pyramids somewhere underground. Unfortunately, she did not know the location.”

  Another wave a fury swept through her. “She would never have told you that willingly. What did you do to her?”

  “Calm yourself. I did not hurt her. There was no need. I simply put her into a trance and asked her a few questions about you.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “Shortly after I began to comprehend your true potential, I wanted to know more about you. The only person you are close to is Miss Halifax. She was the obvious one to interrogate. She remembers nothing of the session, of course. I made certain of that.”

  “You really are a lowlife.”

  “The news that you had concealed three pyramids of amethyst came out quite accidentally, I assure you. But once I had it, I knew for certain that you were the right woman.”

  A creepy sensation trickled through her. “What, exactly do you know about the pyramids? Why are you so interested in them?”

  “The three you discovered are not the first amethyst pyramids to be found. My grandmother also discovered one. She, too, had a great affinity for amethyst. She understood that there was enormous power in the stone.”

  “What happened to her pyramid?”

  “In the end she destroyed it.” Quinn’s voice flashed with rage again. “She was a weak woman. She wrote in her journal that she considered the stone extremely dangerous. She was convinced that once it was tuned to a specific individual, it could be used to generate and focus enormous power, regardless of whether he or she could work amethyst.”

  “I get it. You think you can work the pyramid stones, but you can’t do that unless they are tuned to your frequencies.”

  “My grandmother refused to tune the pyramid for me because she concluded that I was psychically unstable.”

  “Gee. Wonder how she got that impression.”

  Quinn drew a deep breath and visibly steadied himself. Once more he slipped into his serene, guru voice.

  “When I found out that she had rendered the stone powerless, I had no choice, of course,” he said. “I had to kill her.”

  “You murdered your own grandmother?”

  “What else could I do? She deliberately tried to keep me from fulfilling my destiny. She was even planning to notify the authorities of the Arcane Society that I was unstable. They would have tried to smother my talent with drugs. If that hadn’t worked, they would have made certain that I disappeared. I could not allow those fools to interfere with my destiny.”

  “And just what is this high-rez power you think you’re going to get?”

  “My grandmother believed that whoever could master just one of the pyramid stones would gain the ancient powers of the aliens.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Think what that means.” Quinn flattened one of his palms against a glowing tunnel wall. “I will have the powers of those who built these catacombs and the underground rain forest. Who knows what I will be able to achieve once I have that level of talent?”

  “Not to rain on your parade, Quinn, but the aliens are gone. They couldn’t make it here on Harmony. Maybe their powers weren’t so great, after all.”

  “You have no imagination. I have searched for more pyramid stones for years, and at last I have found them.”

  “You know, I think your grandmother was wrong about those pyramids—”

  “Silence.”

  “This is so typical of the Dore luck. I join a meditation class to reduce my stress levels, and what do I get? A mad guru.”

  “Enough. I will not allow you to provoke me. You would do well to remember that you will remain alive only so long as you serve me.”

  “Serve you?”

  “Well, I had planned to offer you marriage,” he conceded. “But when Sweetwater returned, you rushed straight back into his arms, in spite of how he had betrayed you. It was obvious that you are incapable of appreciating what I could give you. So, yes, instead of sharing my power, you will serve me.”

  “What
made you think there might be more pyramid stones?”

  “My grandmother was convinced that there were others. She did not believe that the one she found was the only stone of its kind. But I knew that only another amethyst worker was likely to find others. Do you realize how rare your talent is?”

  “I’ve heard that a lot lately,” Lyra said.

  “For the past six weeks I have tried to drive you closer to me. To woo you. Twice a week I sent you the most exquisite amethyst orchids.”

  “So you’re the one. Well, that figures. I finally get a secret admirer, and he’s a nutcase. And here I was blaming the plumber. Tell me something. If you wanted me to like you, why did you try to scare the crap out of me with those damned hallucinations?”

  “I wanted you to turn to me for help. I wanted to show you that I and I alone could save you from the nightmares. But you kept resisting. For a time I saw it as a tribute to your spirit. I even admired your strength of will. I enjoyed proving that I was your master. But then Cruz Sweetwater came back into your life. I tried to remove him.”

  “You were the one who hired those thugs to try to kill him,” Lyra said. “You tried to take him out not once but twice. The second time you were there, on the other balcony, generating one of your stupid dreamscapes. But that didn’t work either, did it? You’re a real, all-around screwup, aren’t you, Quinn?”

  Quinn’s normally serene features twisted into a demonic mask. “And you’re a real bitch.”

  “Does this mean that the ultimate harmonic relationship is off?”

  “Turn left.”

  “Sure.”

  She rounded another corner and saw the vaulted entrance of a small antechamber. Nancy stood there, scared, her arms tightly wrapped around her waist, but under control. Quinn had not bothered to tie her up. He had taken her amber. That was more than enough to confine anyone underground.

  “Lyra.” Relief and panic mingled on Nancy’s face. Her eyes glittered with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

  “This is my fault, not yours.” Lyra rushed toward her, hugging her fiercely. “It’s going to be okay. I promise you.”

  “Enough,” Quinn said. He looked at Lyra. “You have seen her. She is alive, and she will stay in that condition if you do exactly as I say. Take me to the three stones.”

  Lyra released Nancy, stepped back, and kicked off her heels. “It’s a long hike from here. I’m not going to last much longer in these shoes.”

  “Hurry,” Quinn hissed.

  Lyra looked back at Nancy. “Stay right where you are, okay? It will be all right, I promise you.”

  “Trust me, I’m not going anywhere without amber,” Nancy vowed.

  “Move,” Quinn ordered. He backed up the command with another disorienting wave of energy.

  “You know, if you don’t stop doing that,” Lyra said, “I’m going to throw up on your fancy robes.”

  Quinn blinked, startled. He took a hasty step back, scowling. “Let’s go.”

  “I’ll need a locator,” she said to Quinn.

  “Give me the frequency coordinates. I’ll enter them in my locator.”

  She rattled them off quickly and waited while he punched in the numbers.

  “Now,” Quinn said. A feverish excitement glittered in his eyes. “Take me to the stones.”

  “Yeah, sure, whatever,” Lyra said.

  Chapter 34

  CRUZ LOOKED AT THE TELEPHONE RECORDS THAT JEFF had just tossed down in front of him. Vincent dropped the red crayon he had been playing with and drifted across the desk to see what was going on.

  “How did you end up with Vincent?” Jeff asked.

  “He’s keeping me company while Lyra helps Nancy set up for an art auction tonight. They were afraid he would get into the hors d’oeuvres.” Cruz studied the records. “What did you find?”

  “Those are Valentine Fairstead’s calls for the past three years.” Jeff dropped into a chair. “I circled the ones he made to Flagg and Webber and those that he received from them. They tend to occur in clusters.”

  “Probably corresponding with the times when they were setting up thefts and sales of the artifacts out of the vault.”

  “That’s what it looks like.” Jeff leaned forward. “In which case we’re looking at twenty-eight different thefts during the past three years. Fairstead also made some calls to various high-end clients at those times, letting them know that he had something special, probably. I tracked down the names and wrote them in the margin. For the most part they’re the usual suspects.”

  Cruz moved his finger down the list of calls. “Here’s the one he made to Wilson Revere last week.”

  “There are other familiar names there, as well. Like I said, most are collectors who have been known to dip into the underground antiquities market.”

  “Something I’m having trouble with here,” Cruz said.

  “What?”

  “The street muscle that we’ve been assuming Flagg hired to whack me.”

  Jeff’s brows shot up. “I thought it was more than an assumption.”

  “He denied it when I asked him about it.”

  “Well, sure. He’s not going to admit he tried twice to have you killed.”

  “Everything else about this scam was well-managed for over three years. But hiring those four thugs was sloppy and unsophisticated.”

  “I don’t know about that. If it had worked, you’d have been dead, and the antiquities scam would still be humming along.”

  “It just doesn’t feel like Flagg.”

  “Maybe Webber hired the guys who tried to take you out.”

  “Maybe. But regardless, there’s another question. Whoever used amber to generate those hallucinations that forced me to shatter obsidian was there that night. What’s more, he’s been stalking Lyra for about six weeks. Flagg told me that Webber was furious with her because she refused to cooperate with the amethyst experiments, but I just can’t see Webber as a stalker.”

  “You’d be surprised by the profiles of the men that turn into stalkers.”

  “Whoever this guy is, I think he may also have been sending twice-weekly deliveries of purple orchids to Lyra.”

  “Okay, you’ve got me there. That definitely doesn’t sound like Dr. Felix Webber.”

  Cruz sat forward and folded his arms on the desk. “In which case, we’re looking for a fourth man, someone who had nothing to do with the antiquities scam.”

  “Someone who can generate hallucinations?”

  “Yes.” A familiar frisson of icy awareness shot through Cruz. “Lyra.”

  “What about her?” Jeff asked.

  “Something’s wrong.” He reached for the phone and punched in Lyra’s number. There was no answer. He was trying the number for the Halifax Gallery when Jeff suddenly looked at Vincent.

  “Hey, what’s up with the bunny?” Jeff asked.

  Vincent had sleeked into full predator mode. All four eyes were open. He leaped to the floor and dashed toward the door.

  “Vincent,” Cruz said.

  To his amazement, Vincent paused, looking back. His small body was vibrating with urgency.

  “Wait for us,” Cruz said.

  Chapter 35

  LYRA WALKED INTO THE CHAMBER AHEAD OF QUINN. The three pyramids of amethyst amber glowed gently on the card table where she had left them.

  Quinn stopped short in the entrance. Wonder, awe, and an unhealthy excitement battled for control of his features.

  “It’s true,” he whispered. “You really did find the pyramid stones. And they are stones of rare power, just like the one my grandmother discovered. I can sense the energy in them.”

  Lyra stopped near one of the pyramids and rested a hand casually on the surface. The stone glowed a little brighter at her touch.

  “Now what?” she asked softly.

  “Now you will tune all three of the pyramids to my wavelengths so that I can access their power.” Quinn walked to the card table and touched one of the pyramids with reverent fin
gers. “I will be the master of the stones.”

  “I should tell you that I agree with your grandmother. These stones are dangerous.”

  Rage flared again in Quinn’s face. “Tune the stones, or you will die in this chamber.”

  “You know, I usually get paid extra for my special tuning services.”

  “Shut up and tune the stones.”

  Quinn was practically spitting with fury. The temperature inside the tunnels was always comfortable, but there was a greasy sheen of perspiration on his shaved skull.

  “Okay, okay, take it easy,” Lyra said. “I’ll tune your amber for you. Just so you know, there won’t be any refund if you’re not satisfied with the service. Place the pyramids so that they are all touching. They must be in physical contact with each other.”

  She was winging it now, but Quinn did not appear to notice. He arranged the stones as she had instructed.

  “Now what?” he demanded eagerly.

  “Put your hands on the stones and concentrate, just as you do when you use your talent.”

  Again, he obeyed, splaying his fingertips on the sides of the pyramids.

  She touched one of the stones with a forefinger. Energy pulsed.

  “Focus,” she commanded softly.

  Currents shifted subtly in the pyramids as though some long-dormant power had been disturbed. The stones brightened. She identified Quinn’s patterns almost immediately. Crazy, all right. A moment later she had the wavelengths that pulsed in the heart of each stone.

  The latent power she sensed in the pyramids chilled her to the core. Energy shifted, writhed, and uncoiled. Whatever was happening was not meant for the human mind.

  “Concentrate harder,” she whispered. “Give it everything you have.”

  “Yes.” Quinn was nothing short of enraptured now. He stared into the glowing pyramids. “I can see things, amazing things. It’s music. Who ever thought you could literally see music? Energy is pouring through me, making me stronger. This is incredible.”

  She tweaked the patterns a little more so that the energy in the stones began to pulse in the same pattern as Quinn’s natural psi currents. But the currents in the pyramids were far more powerful than his. They seethed and coiled and burned, seeking a channel.