Estelle ducked her head beneath the water, letting it pour over the back of her neck and turn her hair into a dark curtain, letting streamers run off her nose and lips and chin. She let herself cry, let the overwhelming emotion that had been building since she’d had time to stop and breathe come forth. Her tears mingled with the dirty water and were sucked down the drain.
When she stepped out of the shower, she went to the mirror and wiped the fog from it. Her own face, pink and raw, looked back at her.
“Now what?” she asked it. Her reflection had no response.
* * *
The door to the small waiting room opened, and a nurse poked his head in. “You may see him now.”
Rick jerked awake and forced himself to his feet before he’d come fully conscious. A scattering of deflated chip bags and empty water bottles covered the small round table, consumed during the endless wait. They had been his first meal in over two days. He still felt drained, was probably still dehydrated. He hurried after the nurse anyway.
Kai had still been in surgery when Rick arrived. That had been all anyone could tell him. He’d tried to take it as good news -- if they were still working on him, then he wasn’t dead yet. It wasn’t much but it had sustained him through the hours-long wait. At least until he had fallen asleep. Now the nurse led him to a private ICU suite. The room was dark when they entered, a thin filmy partition drawn to split the space in half. The steady hiss and tick of machines sounded just beyond that veil. After closing the door behind them, the nurse twisted the dimmer to raise the light to a soft, low glow, and drew the partition back.
A heavy-looking blanket covered most of Kai, so that only his shoulders-up was visible. His right arm was encased in a cast and supported by a delicate-looking scaffold mounted to the side of his bed, while his other lay limp at his side with a line connecting it to an IV drip. A thin clear tube ran from his nostrils to the machine that was making the hissing sound.
Rick let out a low breath. It wasn’t too bad, all things considered. With the blood cleaned up and the blanket hiding most of the damage, Kai looked to have taken several generous steps back from death’s door.
“He is sedated,” the nurse informed him in a near-whisper, checking the information on his tablet. “He will be for some time, for the pain, and to let him get a head-start on recovery.”
Rick nodded, approaching the bed. Kai’s face was bruised and swollen almost as badly as Berhanu had been. They’d shaved his beard, which, honestly, was the most shocking part. “How bad was it?”
“The internal bleeding was the greatest danger. Whatever animal lacerated his abdomen did not rupture any organs or his intestines, so that mitigated risk of sepsis, but he still lost a great deal of blood. He was very close to hypovolemic shock when he came in. Other than that, the worst damage was done to his right arm. Hand, wrist, and forearm are severely lacerated, the bones suffering multiple fractures. There’s a good deal of pins and synthetic scaffolding holding that arm together right now. Nerve and muscular damage is also significant. Unless he is able to undergo mesenchymal tissue regeneration, it is unlikely that physical therapy will be enough to return the limb to its original functional state.”
“And will he?” Rick asked, still not looking up from Kai. “Get tissue regeneration?”
“That is an option, but he would need to be transferred to Addis Ababa, to see a specialist. For now we’re concerned with making sure the bones knit back together properly. We’ll be using ultrasound therapy to enhance the healing process, but it will still require several days.”
“Whatever it takes,” Rick said tonelessly. He stared down at Kai for another moment, studying his face, the bruises, the swelling, the cuts with their bristly fringe of stitches, before turning to the nurse. “But that’s it? He’ll recover?”
The nurse nodded. “It will not be easy. He has two ribs with hairline fractures and bruised vertebra to contend with, in addition to everything else, and he’s on a strong antibiotic regimen to fight infection from those bites. But your brother looks like a very strong man. With the proper support and care, I am certain he will be able to return to a normal life in a matter of months.”
A normal life. Rick wanted to ask the nurse what he meant by that. He doubted very much that this man’s concept of normal reflected his and Kai’s. He said nothing, however, except to thank the nurse. The man left him alone with Kai then, reminding him of the call button on the bed frame should they need anything.
There was a chair beside Kai’s bed, next to the window, but Rick didn’t sit. He didn’t even turn to look at Kai, but kept his gaze focused on the closed door. For a time he simply stood there, listening to the hissing machines and Kai’s own low breath. He closed his eyes, letting the internal part of himself finally unclench, letting himself accept that Kai was going to be alright. It was going to be fine.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, still not turning around. Speaking to the door. “I should’ve been there. Probably would have gotten myself chewed up too, but…still. Should’ve been there.”
Rick sighed. “You don’t even know yet. How pointless it all was. The Ark wasn’t in Dungur. Berhanu lied, just to spit in K’ebero’s eye. Idiot.” He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see Kai watching him through slits in his swollen face. His eyes were still closed, face still peaceful.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, even more quietly. And this time it wasn’t just Kai’s current state that he was apologizing for, not his recent mistakes but an old one. The oldest sin he had committed, the one at the root of everything that had followed. The one Kai knew nothing about and could never know, the one Rick knew he would be atoning for until the day he died.
“I’m not going to let it be for nothing, alright? I’ll finish the job, get the crypto Ibis promised us. Use it to get you as fixed-up as possible. And then…then maybe we can start looking at retirement.”
He settled into the chair, curling his legs beneath himself and resting his head back against the wall. Rick fell asleep watching Kai breathe.
Twenty-Five
Gondar Hotel
Gondar, Ethiopia
Estelle awoke to a room full of bright midday sun, shining through the drawn curtains. Groggily she raised herself from the bed. She’d passed out almost immediately after her shower, not even bothering to get dressed or remove the towel wrapped around her hair. She did so now, sighing to find her curls still matted and damp.
Just be glad you’re still alive to be upset about your hair.
Fair enough.
Pulling on a fluffy bathrobe stowed in the closet, she retrieved her glasses from the charging plate. It was nearly two in the afternoon. Clearly she’d needed the sleep, and she did feel a bit refreshed, but her body still ached like tenderized meat.
Estelle stretched. Now that she had access to a functional network she was able to sort through her inbox on her glasses. Messages from Isa, giving her updates on Toulouse, along with photos of him meowing into the camera or caught mid-bath. They gave her a deep pang of homesickness that was almost as bad as her physical pains. The rest were from Nasim, covering the last couple days. Inquiring with increasing urgency about where she was, why she wasn’t answering, what had happened. The most recent one had been brief, sent only to tell Estelle that she was coming to Ethiopia and hoped to find her there.
Estelle read them with a mounting sense of foreboding. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face Nasim in the light of day and give a full accounting for her actions. Where would she even begin?
At least Nasim had let her sleep in. Estelle went to the door and opened it a crack, peeking out into the hall. It was empty and silent -- Nasim hadn’t been kidding when she said she booked the entire place. There was a tray of cold eggs, genfo, mashed fava beans, and lamb tripe stew waiting for her on the floor, along with a mug of tea, apparently left there earlier by the hotel staff. Estelle scooped it up and devoured all of it on her bed. She washed it down with the tepid tea
and was left feeling heartily satisfied.
She looked around the room, wondering what she should do next. Wait for Nasim to come find her? It wasn’t an appealing prospect, but neither was calling Nasim and telling her she was ready for her inquisition. Instead Estelle moved to the head of her bed, pressed an ear against the wall, and rapped three times just above the headboard. There was no immediate response -- and then Booker knocked back thrice. She smiled. It had been how they’d find each other in the cavernous labyrinth of the Louvre. Follow the knocks.
Now that neither of them were in mortal peril, Estelle realized how happy she was to see Booker again. To have a familiar face nearby. Even if the circumstances weren’t ideal, the reunion had been long overdue. And all at once she felt like celebrating the fact that she was alive. She had survived. They both had.
She stood and gave the clothes folded on her bed an appraising look. Then she decided against them, tightened her robe slightly, and stepped out into the hall.
Booker opened his door before she could knock. He was shirtless, wearing what were hopefully a fresh pair of boxers. They grinned a bit sheepishly at each other for a moment.
“Want some company?” Estelle asked.
Booker nodded. “Could use some.”
* * *
For a while after they lounged on Booker’s bed, enjoying the afterglow and snacking on the cold remains of his own breakfast. Estelle rested her head on his chest while he traced small circles on her back with his fingers. She tried to remember the last time she’d felt this content, this ok with the world. It made no sense, really, considering all that she’d just been through. If anything, she should have been struggling with some major PTSD or depression. Maybe that was what this was, her way of coping.
“So this was kind of unexpected,” Booker said, voice rumbling against her cheek. She enjoyed the familiarity of the sensation.
“Are you referring to the sex, or us bumping into each other halfway around the world?”
He laughed noiselessly. “Both. But…mostly the sex. I mean, six years is a long time…”
Estelle raised her head to frown lightly at him. “It’s not as if I was pining for you all this time, Booker.”
“No, I know,” he said hurriedly, clearly not wanting to ruin the moment. “I just…” He shrugged.
“Never thought about it? Not once?”
“That’s not…” Booker looked at her helplessly for a moment, then gave her a playful shove when she grinned. “It’s a surprise, is all.”
“But a welcome one.”
“Definitely.”
Estelle rested her head back on his chest. Yes, it had been nice. To not think for a while, to not focus on anything but what was happening right now. And, if she was being completely honest, to break a bit of a dry spell. But now that it was over and cooler heads were reigning, Estelle couldn’t help but wonder …
“What happens now?”
Booker grunted. “I mean… Do you want to, like, keep this going?”
She lifted her head to look at him, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“Uh -- what do you mean?”
“I mean -- now, after everything.” She shrugged helplessly. “Do we keep looking for the Ark? Are you going to keep hunting this Ibis guy? Or do we just…go home?”
“Oh, right. That.” He was silent for a brief moment. “Well, I have to try and convince Rick and Kai that it’s still in their best interests to come back to the States with me. As for the Ark…I guess it’s gone? I mean, we don’t know where the guardian hid it.”
Estelle sighed. She was disappointed, now that she thought about it; more so than she would have expected to be. The Ark had been her father’s obsession. But despite everything else that had happened along the way, she had grown more and more excited by the prospect of finding the artifact. Even if the historical significance had been lost on her, it would have been nice to finish her father’s work. To keep the Ark safe, for Berhanu.
“Nasim’s not going to be happy about that. But maybe it’s for the best. If we can’t find it, neither can anyone else. So, what’s the next step? Have you talked to the FBI yet?”
“No, I think it’s the middle of the night over there.”
“Aren’t they worried, though? You’ve been off the grid for a few days.”
“It’s fine. When’s Nasim want to talk to you?”
Estelle narrowed her eyes. Was he hiding something? Or was she overthinking? Damn it, Booker. Damn it, brain. This was something else familiar, but not something she had missed -- the second guessing, the talking around things. It was part of what had killed their relationship last time, Booker always so afraid that she was judging him for his lack of post-grad success, Estelle feeling the need to tiptoe around his insecurity. It had all gotten to be too much, so that when it finally ended she felt relief as well as sorrow.
He’s changed so much, she thought. They both had. But, in some ways, nothing had changed at all. That was the most surprising thing.
“Estelle?”
She blinked, coming out of her reverie. “Sorry, what?”
He looked down at her with a faint knowing smile that made her feel both seen and exposed. “I asked when you were meeting with Nasim.”
“Oh. I have no idea. Whenever she feels like, probably. And, honestly, that’s not an appointment I’m rushing to keep.”
He grunted. “Nice of her to keep us waiting.”
“Unless you have a better idea,” Estelle said. “Maybe we could go to the hospital, see how Kai’s doing?”
Booker frowned slightly at that. “I think we’d better just wait for Nasim.”
She picked up on his tone. “He saved my life, Booker. He might be a criminal, but --”
“I know, I know. Let’s just wait on it, ok?” He got out of bed. “I’m gonna shower. You want to…?”
“No.” She hadn’t meant it to come out quite so sharply. “I mean, yes, but I’ll do it in my room. I need to get ready before Nasim shows up, anyway.”
Booker shrugged, so she grabbed her glasses, pulled on her robe and returned nextdoor. That was uncomfortable.
Her old clothes were strewn on the floor where she’d discarded them last night. None of it looked salvageable, and everything else that she’d brought was in her abandoned duffel. With a pang of remorse at the thought of her lost tech jacket, Estelle examined the clothes that Nasim had provided. They looked to be her size and suitably walked the line between functional and trendy, all close-fitting and smart thermoregulating material. There were even some outdoorsy boots in her size.
Gathering them up, Estelle made for the bathroom. As she did so she stepped on something small and hard, sending a shooting pain through her foot. Hissing, she hopped to one side and searched for the offending object. She’d stepped on her old bra -- or, rather, on the small blue stone resting inside one of the cups.
The sapphire the Kohen had given her. She’d forgotten all about it. Now she picked it up and sat on the edge of the bed, studying it, one hand idly massaging the sole of her foot. It really did seem for all the world to be nothing more than a smooth pebble. Maybe it had some significance in the belief system of Ethiopian Christians, or maybe the Kohen had given it to her for nothing more than comfort. Turning it in her fingers, she realized it was all she had to show for the whole disastrous trip. She couldn’t decide if that made her want to throw it away or keep it someplace safe…
Estelle frowned. There was what looked like a thin crack in the surface of the stone, a crack she was almost certain hadn’t been there the last time she had looked at it. It must have happened when she stepped on it -- but what kind of gemstone cracked so easily?
Taking it in both hands, she placed her thumbs to either side of the crack and applied pressure. There was a snap, and the stone broke in two. Estelle gasped. It was hollow -- not stone but ceramic. Inside the small cavity was a tiny chip.
A memory card.
She stared at it for a long breathle
ss moment, then tapped her glasses, quickly navigating to the list of open connections. There she found the hotel’s wi-fi network -- and a single node named Estelle.
Her breath caught in her breast, and for a moment all she could do was stare at the node. At her own name. Slowly, she looked down at the memory card lying flat in her palm amid the broken remains of the false stone.
She connected to the node. Immediately she received a file transfer request. Estelle accepted it, aware that she was shivering. A file also bearing her name downloaded to her glasses. She opened it.
Martin Kingston appeared in the space between the bed and the bathroom door, a lifesize image overlaid on the real world. He wore his medical exoframe over rugged clothing that she recognized as his travel gear: a leather bomber jacket, durable cargo pants, a bag slung over one shoulder. Estelle heard herself gasp as his blue eyes seemed to meet hers, and although his face was tired, he smiled.
“Hey, Esta,” her father said, his voice reverberating through the frames of her glasses.
“Dad,” she whispered.
He couldn’t hear her, of course. It was only a recording. But she wanted to reach out anyways, to touch him one last time. It seemed unfair that she couldn’t, with him standing so close.
“If you’re viewing this,” he continued, “then that means I was right, and Nasim has chosen you as my replacement, and you know all about Pharos. And the Ark. It also means you’ve come to Ethiopia, to Axum, and that by now you know that the Ark isn’t in Axum anymore.” His smile wavered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for never telling you about any of this, for keeping secrets -- it killed me to do it.” He chuckled. “Well. Probably not literally. That…”
Estelle leaned forward, breathless, as her father trailed off. Ambient noise filled the dead air, an imprint of wherever he’d been when he made the recording. His expression fell and he glanced down at something only he was able to see. Finally he shook his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t joke. I know how angry you must be with me. How confused. I wish I could change that. I wish things had been different, hadn’t gone the way they must’ve gone if you’re viewing this -- but it’s too late. Just know that everything I did was to make the world a better place for you. To protect you.” A hint of the smile returned, tempered with sadness. “You probably hate hearing that, but it’s the truth.”
A Covenant of Thieves Page 44
