"Why? Aren't we safe?"
"I don't know. I always move locations every few days just to make sure."
"I shot Staunton. It wasn't a fatal wound, but it will take a little while for him to bounce back."
"We still move. I'm not taking chances. As soon as Irana gets up, we'll decide if we have to get her on a plane to Mykala to send-
"Irana is up." Irana came into the room and headed for the bath¬room. "I'm going to wash and get dressed, and Emily is going for a walk with me. Yes, Emily?"
Emily nodded. "But it's not like your island. It's all flat barrenness and vast spaces."
"That can have a splendor, too." Irana stopped at the bathroom door and spoke to Garrett. "And we're not getting me on a plane, so make your arrangements around that fact."
IRANA AND EMILY WERE WALKING out the front door twenty minutes later.
Garrett looked up from straightening the pile of papers in front of him. "Can I talk you out of staying here, Irana?"
"No, Garrett." She smiled at him. It was a shadow of her usual smile, but it was still luminous. "I'm staying here with my friends. I wouldn't be happy on Mykala right now."
Garrett opened his lips, then closed them. He nodded. "Whatever you want, Irana."
Irana didn't speak for a few moments as she and Emily strode across the frozen ground. "He was very… accepting." She suddenly chuckled. "You must have been stern with him."
Lord, it was good to hear Irana laugh. "We had a talk." She shook her head. "Though / hoped you'd go, too."
"I know." She looked straight ahead. "It would have been good to go home for a while. But it's not right for me. Not now. Last night I thought about it. I prayed about it." She shook her head. "And I still came out with the same answer." She glanced at Emily with the faintest hint of mischief. "Now you should say, 'Whatever you want, Irana.'"
"No way."
"That's what I like to hear." Her smile faded. "Don't feel sad for me. I'm healing, Emily. Every minute, every hour, I'm healing and becoming the stronger for it."
"Considering who you are, that doesn't surprise me." She hesitated, then said with a touch of awkwardness, "I… care about you. No, I guess I love you, Irana. I've always been afraid to make friends because I was always traveling, always having to leave them, and that hurt. It was okay with Joel because he was in the same job, and I could keep him with me." She shook her head. "I think you know how I feel, but I was cursing myself yesterday because I'd never said the words. You're my friend and my sister, and I thank God that Garrett pushed me into your life." She cleared her throat. "Even though I've caused you a world of trouble." She held up her hand. "Sorry. No guilt. No blame."
"Right. And it's never trouble when you care about someone as I care for you, Emily. Because I think God may have wanted to bring us together for a reason. Or maybe just to comfort and protect each other as friends do. That's sometimes reason enough." Irana looked away from her. They had reached the center of the field, and she jammed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, her gaze on the gray clouds hanging low over the flat, barren fields. "Yes, this land has a kind of somber splendor. And you can feel the storms that have passed through here. My island of Mykala is very ancient, but you don't feel the same sense of disturbance and turmoil. It's more serene."
Irana clearly wanted to ease the subject away from the personal and Emily followed her lead. "Russia has had a very turbulent history."
She nodded. "And the years that Mikhail Zelov was trying to ma¬nipulate the Tsar and Tsarina were some of the most violent. It wasn't the time to have a weak Tsar like Nicholas II. He sat on his throne sur¬rounded by his beautiful wife and family and couldn't believe that revolution was right around the corner. For centuries the Tsars had been all-powerful, living in magnificence almost beyond comprehen¬sion. Why should they think that they would be deposed by those rabid Bolsheviks? Communism was everywhere, but the Tsar thought he had history on his side." She grimaced. "Until history was blown to bits when they took the royal family prisoner and executed them."
"But what did the Church have to do with all that turmoil?"
"Nicholas was very religious and trying to keep the Church afloat. Everyone was trying to climb over each other and gain power, and the Church was just attempting to keep the power it had."
"You sound as if you've studied it."
"When I was young, I studied all the religions of the world, includ¬ing the Russian Orthodox Church. The Church was woven into the history of Russia. As I said, the power of the Church was being chipped away by all kinds of factions. It was a time of change. That was how Rasputin gained influence in the Church. They were looking for some¬one who could bolster its popularity. Enter Rasputin, who claimed to be a miracle worker and holy man and had a lot of people believing him." She shook her head. "But I never ran across any stories of Zelov."
"Evidently that was how he liked it," Emily said. "He was an evil man, and the evil he did is still present and continuing." She looked at Irana. "How could that happen? How could Mikhail Zelov not have been punished for his sins? He ended up in America with a fortune. Why didn't God do something?"
"Maybe he did. How do you know Zelov was happy with all his riches? You don't know the torment of the soul."
Emily was silent. "That wouldn't be good enough for me. And what about Staunton? Don't you want to go after him and punish him for what he did to you?"
"I was thinking about that last night. I'm terribly angry, and it's dif¬ficult for me to-" She shook her head. "But I won't let him twist what I am. He's evil, Emily. Perhaps the most evil man I've ever known. As long as he's free, he'll be a danger to everyone around him. That's why I have to stay, why I have to help you. I have to make sure that he can't hurt anyone else. But it can't be just for my sake. I have to trust that it's also God's will, and he will help me."
Emily shook her head. "I'm not like you. I can't wait for fate or God to give their okay. I want to make sure that evil is punished."
"You mean you want to do it yourself." Irana smiled. "That's a sol¬dier's philosophy. Sometimes you have to leave things to God."
"Suppose I help him a little."
Irana smiled. "That sounds like Garrett. You're very alike, you know."
"No, I don't know." She started walking across the field toward the farmhouse. "And he doesn't think I'm a soldier. He wants me to sit with my hands crossed while he goes out and does-" She shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."
"He let you go out and risk your life last night. It wasn't easy for him."
"That was different. That was for you, Irana." "Yes, that was for me."
And Emily could see the faintest shadow returning to her expression, and she said quickly, "I don't want to talk about Garrett. Besides everything else, I'm very angry with him for bringing you here."
"He gave me a choice. I told you once, he always gives me a choice," she added, "And he said something about me being helpful in dealing with the Russian Orthodox Church if needed."
"Nicholas Zelov went to Bishop Dimitri first and offered to sell him the amulets and the Book of Living before Joslyn started negotia¬tions. Garrett wanted to know why. I do, too, but it's not something we couldn't have handled." Emily made a face. "I know, I said I didn't want to talk about him, but here I am doing it."
"Because you can think of nothing else."
"I can think that I'm very glad to have my friend here. Though you should never have come."
"And I believe I should be here," Irana said quietly. "I knew when Garrett asked me to come that there was something waiting for me here. I don't what it is, but maybe God had a purpose."
"Staunton was waiting for you. I don't think much of that pur¬pose."
"No, Staunton is just a hurdle to overcome. It's something else that's waiting." She gazed once more at the gray clouds that didn't seem to move in the still sky. "And none of it will be your fault or your doing, Emily."
Emily felt a chill. "That's a good way to lighten
my day."
Irana smiled. "Stop fretting. It may be a happy purpose. Most of God's plans are full of joy." She took Emily's hand. "Now we will go back so that we won't upset Garrett's plans. He seems to want us out of here and on the road."
"He wants to protect us."
"And there's nothing really wrong with that in spite of your re¬sentment at his interference in your independence. It's his nature." Her pace increased as she dropped Emily's hand. "We have no light¬house, but the farmhouse will do. Race me?"
"Why not?" It was a surprise that she welcomed, a return to the routine of Mykala, and perhaps a sign of that healing Irana had spo¬ken about.
Emily took off running. She could feel the cool wind in her hair, and Irana was beside her. For this single moment, everything was good and right. Not perfect. But she would take it.
SEVENTEEN
PAULEY WAS COMING OUT OF the farmhouse when they reached it. "Are you being chased? Should I come to your rescue?"
Emily skidded to a stop and tried to get her breath. "No. Just a lit¬tle morning constitutional."
"What a disappointment." He smiled. "I'm really getting into this James Bond stuff. Though Garrett said that he'd strangle me if I didn't quit making cracks." He looked at Irana. "I'll introduce myself, since Emily is having trouble with breath control. I'm Mark Pauley, computer genius extraordinary and part-time lookout man. Not so ex¬traordinary."
"Irana Povak." She shook her head. "And I'm not extraordinary at all. But I'm a very good doctor."
"They must think you're extraordinary. Garrett paid me a fortune to find you." He studied her and slowly nodded. "You know, I think they may be right."
"Have you loaded the suitcases in the car, Pauley?" Garrett had come out of the house.
"Yes, I was just coming back in to tell you when I stopped to see if I was needed to rescue Emily." He gazed at Garrett accusingly. "You didn't let me go along last night. You just used my brilliant brain and expertise and sent me off to bed. That wasn't fair, Garrett."
"Fair? Good God, have I created a monster?"
"It serves you right. I didn't want to go with you to Babin's house. But I didn't realize what a rush it could be taking a risk like that. I have a curious nature. I want to explore it again."
Garrett sighed. "It's not a computer game, Pauley."
"No, it's different, but it may be more fun." He nodded. "Now I think I'll go inside and get Dardon stirring. He's feeling a little too su¬perior at the moment. I want to tell him not only that I'm a mental gi¬ant, but what a superb help I was to you at Babin's the other night. Better than he could do."
Emily looked after him in surprise. The venture with Garrett had evidently formed a bond between them that had overcome Garrett's annoyance with him. Not only that, but it had opened a door for Pauley she had not expected.
"Dardon may just crush his head," Garrett murmured. "Oh, well, Pauley's got to learn."
"You sound almost paternal," Emily said.
"I'm nobody's father. Not Pauley. Not you." He turned to Irana. "Am I, Irana?"
"You'd make a very good father," Irana said. "It would just take practice and opportunity."
Emily changed the subject. "What did Pauley say about the trans¬lation?"
"He'll do it… reluctantly."
"But it's not as much fun as being James Bond." Emily added, deadpan. "However, I'm sure he agreed after you had a fatherly talk with him."
Garrett gave her a glance. "I'll get you for that." He went on, "Fer¬guson called and gave me a report on the three industrialists who dealt with Babin. I told him the only one we're interested in now is Joslyn." He paused. "He told me that I was barking up the wrong tree."
"Why?"
"Joslyn is an absolutely sterling character. Squeaky-clean. He has a wife and two college-age kids who are also squeaky-clean. His business transactions are aboveboard and fair. He's extremely religious, a pillar of his church. He donates a good portion of his income to the church and to charity. He took a sabbatical two years ago and went to Ethiopia with a mission group for four months. He worked so hard there that his immune system failed, and he became ill with fever. They had to ship him home."
Emily shook her head. "Then Babin didn't tell you the truth. It must be one of the other men."
"Perhaps," Garrett said. "But I don't think so. I worked hard to make sure Babin was very scared indeed. I don't believe he would have lied to me. And I have enough experience to tell the difference if he tried."
"Joslyn seems unlikely," Irana said. "It's one thing to give money to the unfortunate, it's another to actually go and minister to them."
"Or someone very clever," Garrett said. "And willing to go to the final length to keep up his image. I'm going to bank on what Babin told me. If I get shot down, then I'll go down another path."
Shot down. Emily didn't like that phrase. It brought back all the worry and imagery that had plagued her during the last forty-eight hours. Garrett shot. Garrett dead. Staunton hovering over all of them like a hideous gargoyle. "Perhaps he didn't know what Babin was do-ing?
"He's evidently a smart man, or he wouldn't be so successful. He'd be hard to fool unless he deliberately closed his eyes. He was the one who authorized Babin to make the deal with Nicholas Zelov for the book and the amulets." He added, "And the Book of Living led them to the hammer. Or at least the place where the hammer was sup¬posed to be."
"But if he's a very rich man, why would he go after more?"
"Nicholas's escape fund was worth billions, remember? Billions equal power. Some men can never have enough money. Are you ready to leave?"
"As soon as I throw my clothes into my suitcase."
"I've already done that. I thought we'd buy some clothes for Irana somewhere on the road." He glanced at Irana. "You won't change your mind?"
She shook her head, and said quietly, "I'm coming with you all the way, Garrett."
"That's what I was afraid of." He shrugged. "Then I'll go rescue Pauley… or Dardon, and we'll get out of here."
"So we're going to see Joslyn?" Irana asked.
"Not now. I want to try to see if we can get something out of that Book of Living that we can use to make him want to talk to us. And I want to know how Bishop Dimitri figures in this."
Emily frowned. "Joslyn already has the original book. He must al¬ready know everything in it."
"But he may not want us to know what was in it that made him want the book so badly."
"It's over a hundred years old. There's nothing in it that could af¬fect Joslyn now. It has to be the Tsar's treasure drawing him."
"Does it? I never take anything for granted."
"So where are we going?"
"I think we should be close to Joslyn. His factories and main of¬fices are in Ekaterinaburg. We'll find a house or inn near there." "Ekaterinaburg," Irana repeated. He glanced at her. "You know about it?"
She nodded. "I was there years ago. I thought it my duty. I never wanted to go back."
"Why not?" Emily asked. "What's in Ekaterinaburg besides Joslyn's factories?"
"For one thing, the museum where the hammer and the rest of the farm equipment were on exhibit for all those decades," Garrett said. "And it's also the place where Nicholas II and his entire family were massacred."
Her eyes widened. "Dear God."
"Rather a curious coincidence that Joslyn is located there, isn't it?" Garrett asked. "Would it interest you to know that Bishop Dimitri also has his residency and jurisdiction in the same city?"
"Yes."
"That's what I thought," Garrett said as he turned to go back into the house. "And that's another reason why Ferguson may be wrong about Mr. Squeaky-Clean."
THEY REACHED EKATERINABURG just before dark that evening.
Emily didn't know what she had expected, but it wasn't a large, bustling city. It might be totally unreasonable, but it seemed as if there should be a pall hanging over the town.
Irana nodded as she read her expression. "I kno
w what you're feel¬ing. It was the same for me the first time I came here. I'd read what happened, and all I could think of was Nicholas, Alexandra, and their children. Ekaterinaburg is actually the third-largest city in Russia. It came as a shock that the royal family was even brought here. You'd ex¬pect them to be held in some remote spot where there wasn't any po¬tential for them to be rescued."
"Evidently not much potential," Emily said.
"Talk about potential." Garrett pointed at a huge factory with steam pouring out of the smokestacks. "That's Joslyn Plastics."
"It's enormous," Dardon said.
Garrett nodded. "And it would never have reached this level of success without the help of the Russian government. Joslyn's factories are clean, and the workers are treated well. He tries not to damage the environment. The Russians aren't that hot on keeping the environ¬ment green, but they don't mind that Joslyn makes the effort."
Emily leaned back, her gaze on the passing streets of Ekaterinaburg. Her first impression might have been of any large industrial city in the world, but now she could see sights that were pure Russia. Men and women dressed in drab gray and black, an occasional older woman in a babushka, a rare glimpse of a grand church that was almost oriental in splendor amid the practical Soviet-style architecture.
Ten minutes later, Garrett turned into the driveway of a large inn, a neat stone building with evergreens bordering the facade. "Here we are. It's not five-star, but Dardon says the businessmen stay here. That should make it at least tolerable." He parked the car and got out. "Emily, you and Irana go on in and register for all of us. Dardon, Pauley, and I will start unpacking the luggage from the trunk."
"Irana can register. I'll help you." Emily got out of the car. "There don't seem to be any bellmen running out to help."
"Garrett said low profile," Dardon said. "I didn't think you'd want to be in one of the bigger inns close to the site of the massacre. Some of them are tourist traps."
"No, I definitely wouldn't want that." She made a face. "The idea of making money out of tragedy is pretty repulsive."
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