Omens and Artifacts Page 7

“Unless it’s in a cave formed by an immortal,” Tenzin said. “Those don’t show up on geological surveys.”

  “Tenzin, I’m not calling an earth vampire to help us look.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s just one more person knowing that we’re looking in this location.” He draped the towel across his shoulders. “And the last thing we need is someone blabbing—”

  “I could probably…” She paused. Ben would most likely not approve of looking for a rival vampire and using them to search before dispatching them.

  He frowned. “You could probably what?”

  “Nothing.” She glanced at the nonsentient machine he’d been using. “Your machine sounds very interesting. Tell me more about it.”

  His eyes narrowed. “No.”

  “What?” She made her eyes very big again. It had worked well with the Frenchman. “You don’t want me to know about the machine?”

  “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.” The eye trick did not work with Ben. He rose and walked toward her. “Whatever you were thinking just now. No.”

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

  “I’m sure you don’t.” He grabbed a can of beer from the cooler and cracked it open. “Isn’t my metal detector nice?”

  “Yes, very nice.” She smiled, but he did not look reassured. “And, of course, vampires wouldn’t be able to use something like that. Excellent planning, Benjamin.”

  ✕

  SHE rested that day, meditating and watching over Ben as he slept. But the next night, she flew over the search area while Ben was making notes on his grid. She was glad he’d spent a few days turning up nothing. He was learning one of the cardinal rules of treasure hunting: Most of it was boring. Patience was rewarded; daring was not. Tenzin had the patience of a hunting cat. When she was focused on something, she could wait as long as necessary for her prey to reveal itself. And riches were her favorite kind of prey.

  The countryside was deserted and high fog rolled in off the North Sea. She flew over the trees and ducked between them to land in the wooded glade of Dunino Den. She breathed deeply; the ancient energy of the wood surrounded her, and she understood immediately why Ben had been so certain of this location. The air felt heavy, and the wind spoke to her, removed from the roar of modern life and humanity. This was an old place.

  Trees, brush, and exposed rock marked the tiny corner of wild. Moss hung heavy from trees and lichen decorated rocks. The stream had swollen with the recent rain, and the sound of rushing water filled the air along with the scent of moldering debris. She walked up the den, letting her fingers flutter over the ribbons and beads tied among the bushes. Wilted flowers, leaves, and lovers’ tokens hung on an ancient stump at the center of the glade.

  “Humble folk still be hanging ribbons at the Raven King’s tree.”

  How had Tywyll known Ben was thinking of this place?

  She passed the old stump and walked beside the exposed limestone that bordered the natural amphitheater. Her fingers traced the crosses and symbols inscribed on the rock and she floated up to investigate. Some artist had added the visage of a gnarled face with a wide nose and full beard. The scowling face emerged from the rock, a silent and disapproving witness to the pilgrims who offered their gifts. She floated up the stone steps cutting through the twin outcroppings and let the night wind speak to her.

  “Ravens like ribbons, but they like silver more.”

  She reached the top of the steps and saw the pool in front of her. It was a round ceremonial well. The holy men who came later would have taken it for their own purposes, but Tenzin spotted the hollowed-out footprint at its edge. To the immortal eye, it was clear evidence of an earth vampire.

  Brennus?

  But Ben had said this was a Pictish site.

  “…he didn’t have a coin for the new king’s stone.”

  That phrase was the key. Those were the words that had made Ben’s eyes come alive. Tenzin had heard king’s but had Tywyll been saying kings? Who were the new kings? Would the Picts have been the “new kings” to an ancient like Brennus?

  The new kings’ stone…

  Tenzin wandered up the path with the wind whispering in her ears.

  The new king’s stone.

  The new kings’ stone.

  She walked the narrow lane between the woods and the churchyard, drawn to the graves that dotted the deep green grass. She passed an old headstone with the penitent’s face worn away by time. A mourner was carved into the edge of the granite, her hood smooth and worn by water and wind. Past the headstone in the moonlight, Tenzin caught the shine of silver.

  “…he didn’t have a coin for the new kings’ stone.”

  She stepped closer and bent to inspect the coins, careful not to move any of them. Currency from all over was piled on top of the lichen- and moss-covered rock. Silver and nickel mostly. Some copper. Some brass. It wasn’t a gravestone, it was a standing stone or the stump of one. The ground was cleared around the stone, as if someone had cut back the grass around the base.

  What was this place? A holy tree. A ceremonial well. A standing stone.

  A place of ritual. Of spiritual power. A natural amphitheater.

  Dunino Den was a place of holiness, ritual, and authority.

  Her eyes fell to the standing stone covered in coins. In offerings.

  In… tribute.

  “You should always bring a coin for the Raven King’s throne.”

  Tenzin went to her knees before the old stone and scraped back more of the grass to bare the soil. She sank her hands into the packed dirt and bent, putting her mouth to the ground. She held back the instinctive revulsion at the taste of earth against her lips so she could concentrate on breathing out the air that would speak to her. She exhaled, forcing her amnis into the ground with her element.

  Then she closed her eyes and waited. Her hair hung around her like a curtain, brushing the grass and gathering water as she waited.

  She waited.

  Her breath crawled along roots and under rocks, seeking tiny spaces to possess. It traveled along grains of rock and rotting vegetation. It traveled down.

  Down.

  Down.

  Tenzin sank into her mind. Dug her fingers into the ground and let the air within her connect to the night and the blackness and the space in all things. She felt the night birds move over her and the wind moving the trees. She dissolved into her senses and the amnis within all things.

  She waited.

  Until the air she’d breathed from her body found the hidden places she’d been seeking. It crawled and explored, tasted and gathered secrets. Then the air came back to her, whispering tales of gods and treasures.

  The new kings’ stone.

  The Raven King’s throne.

  Tenzin started awake from her trance, tasting the soil on her lips. She sat up and put a hand on the strange rock, her eyes wide and her mind racing.

  “Brennus,” she whispered. “You clever bastard.”

  Chapter Six

  BEN WOKE THAT AFTERNOON, HIS body rolling into the beam of light that cut across the bed in the west bedroom. He could hear Tenzin in the front part of the house, moving with her familiar lightness, a fluid combination of walking and flying that marked her presence to his ears. He lay in the angled light and let the sun warm his face.

  It was no coincidence that he’d chosen this room for his bedchamber, just as it was no coincidence that he slept better in the day. Sun meant safety. For the past week, he’d been working days, searching the glade and streambed, and he’d been restless at night until Tenzin had arrived. His sleep had completely turned around, and it felt good to enjoy a long nap in the afternoon sun.

  He heard the kettle whistle and knew Tenzin had put the tea on, which meant she knew he was awake. He enjoyed one last stretch in the sunbeam, a scratch on his belly, and then he rose, unfolding his limbs from the short bed in the cottage. He threw on a flannel shirt and made his way out to the kitc
hen, forcing his hair into submission under a knitted beanie as he debated for the hundredth time whether or not he should shave it all off.

  “Good evening,” Tenzin said. “Or afternoon, I suppose.”

  “You went exploring last night.” He slumped at the kitchen table, still not quite awake, and rubbed his eyes. “When did you get back?”

  “Six or seven?” She filled the teapot and Ben enjoyed the rising aroma of bergamot and black tea. “You were in your room scribbling, so I decided not to interrupt you. Then I think you fell asleep.”

  “I haven’t been sleeping at night,” he said with a yawn. “And I’ve been working during the day, so yeah. A bit exhausted.”

  She turned toward him, and for a moment, her eyes were so sharp with pain his breath caught in his chest.

  “Tenzin?”

  The moment dissipated like steam in a cold room. “I do miss sleep. Sometimes I miss sleep.”

  Tenzin wasn’t one to complain about… well, anything. Not seriously. She only whined to annoy him or tease.

  “I didn’t know you missed it,” he said carefully. “You don’t get tired though, do you?”

  “It’s not physical. I meditate to rest,” she said, turning back to the cupboard and getting two mugs for tea. “But I don’t get tired. Not like humans do. Not in my body. Just my mind.”

  “I think anyone would. I’m glad meditation helps.”

  “But sometimes…” Her eyes drifted again. “Sometimes you need more. You need a break. Most of the past century was a break for me. I went into the mountains with Nima and I just… was. I didn’t see anyone. I didn’t talk to anyone.”

  Ben remained frozen. It was so unusual for Tenzin to speak about her past, he feared the slightest movement would break whatever strange spell was causing her to confide in him.

  “Giovanni had left me,” she continued. “He’d become tired of mercenary work. I was too. The human world became violent on a different scale. Wars were global. Everything was changing so fast. I decided to take a break.”

  “In Tibet. With Nima.”

  “Yes. Most of us do, you know.”

  “Take a break?”

  “Yes. Very old vampires become tired or bored or overwhelmed. We debate going into the sun. Some of us do.” Her eyes met his. “But then others who are still hungry for life… we sleep. Not as humans do. It’s a kind of stasis. In my longest stasis, I became a living idol. My cave became a shrine, and I fed from those who came to pray to me.”

  “No one tried to harm you?”

  She shook her head, and her eyes became less dreamy. Sharper. “The humans thought I was a goddess. Because to them, I had always been there. Never moving. Never aging. But I wasn’t asleep. If something had tried to attack me, I would have protected myself.”

  “But nothing did.”

  Tenzin poured the tea and added a twist of lemon to hers and milk to his. She walked over and sat at the kitchen table across from him. “No, nothing did. They left treasure for me. Beautiful things. Many of them are still in that cave.”

  Ben tried not to salivate at the thought of a hidden treasure cave in the Himalayas. “The humans didn’t take the treasure?”

  “Of course not. They were offerings,” Tenzin said, leaning closer. “Offerings to a god. To take them would have been… unwise.”

  …he didn’t have a coin for the new king’s stone…

  Ben sipped his tea. Put the mug down. Thought about their strange conversation and the growing knot in his gut. “You’re not just feeling chatty, are you?”

  Tenzin shook her head.

  His conversation with Tywyll leapt to his memory. “Brennus didn’t give me permission to share where he buried the Fitheach Lann, so I suppose we’re at an impasse…”

  Past tense. Or so he’d thought. “Tiny, if you’re saying—”

  “Brennus is alive,” she said. “He was never killed. You found his treasure, but you found the Raven King too.”

  ✕

  BEN sat with his notes and charts and maps spread in front of him. Pictures and drawings. Old survey maps and handwritten accounts. Small mountains of paperwork and notes. Over a year’s worth of research.

  Tenzin sat across from him. “You have to leave it.”

  But he couldn’t. He’d done too much work. He had a client. His first client. A client who had hired him to find the Sanguine Raptor, the Fitheach Lann, or whatever old vampires wanted to call it. And now he had René Dupont in Edinburgh. He didn’t have time to restrategize.

  And it was just one sword…

  He could leave the treasure if Brennus was still alive. All he needed was one sword and his reputation would be established. He’d be twenty-four and his reputation in the immortal world and the antiquities collecting market would be set.

  He pulled at the hair that had escaped from his hat. “One sword, Tenzin.”

  “Stop it,” Tenzin said. “You don’t know what you’re asking for if you try to unearth him.”

  “Weren’t you the one who got more excited at the idea of stealing from a living vampire than a dead one?”

  “That was when I thought he was hiding in Fiji or had started a new life in South America. I didn’t think he’d actually be in stasis with the treasure we were hunting. I won’t let you do this, Benjamin.”

  His anger began to simmer. “Let has nothing to do with it.”

  Tenzin bared her fangs. “Do you not understand what I’m telling you? I was in stasis. I would have attacked anything that tried to disturb me. It would have been automatic. But Brennus is not resting peacefully in a cave where penitents feed him. He is resting in a barrow of his own making. An ancient king with his wealth gathered around him. He has not set traps to deter thieves, he is the trap. All anyone would need to do is disturb his treasure and he would wake. And he would wake hungry.”

  Ben tapped on a map of the churchyard, an X marked in the spot where the standing stone sat. He’d made notes and taken pictures of its location, but he hadn’t connected the stone to the king. He’d been too focused on the well and footprint at Dunino Den.

  “Ben, are you listening to me?”

  The Raven King was an earth vampire. He could burrow anywhere. And an ancient holy site that had crowned kings and was then protected by new druids—as Brennus probably saw the holy men who founded the church—would have seemed perfect. No one would be disturbing his rest. The earth was verdant. There was water nearby.

  “He’s not dead.” Tenzin’s voice rose. “He will be hungry. The first thing that unearths him will be food for that hunger. He will be ravenous. Animallike. Out of his senses. There will be no reasoning—”

  “We can bring an animal with us,” Ben said quietly. “An offering. If he wakes, he’ll feed from that.”

  “If he wakes, he’ll want human blood.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I have been in stasis, do you understand?” she shouted. “Leave this alone, Benjamin. I forbid it.”

  He glared at her. “You don’t get to forbid me from doing anything,” he said. “I am not your servant. I am your partner. And if I think the risk of trying for the sword is worth it—”

  “Don’t you understand?” Her eyes were wild. “It’s just treasure! It’s a metal sword. There are a million swords in the world. They are like stars in the sky.”

  “Says the woman who has a reputation to fear and the wealth to back it up. I’m not you, Tenzin. I need this.”

  “This treasure is not worth your life when you are so fragile.”

  “So now I’m fragile?” He sneered.

  She flew over the table and grabbed him by the shirtfront. “You know what I mean!”

  “And you know why I need to do this!”

  She was hovering over him, her face inches from his, but Ben refused to be intimidated. Her fangs had cut her bottom lip, and he could smell the metallic scent of her blood. Her fingers were cool against his neck, but her breath was hot.

  “I am
not yours to command,” he whispered.

  Tenzin was not his mistress. Not his employer. He brought just as much to this business as she did, and this was his job, not hers.

  “You’re insane,” she said, shoving him back and returning to her chair.

  “No, just determined. And flexible. I received new information about the mark—thank you very much—but I’m not giving up the job.”

  “This is not a con.”

  “I know that.”

  “Brennus will kill you.”

  “Or maybe I’ll kill him.”

  Tenzin snarled. “Foolish boy! Do you think I have no honor? Brennus is a warrior of legend. Father of your friends. Do you think I would let you slay him while he rests?”

  “Is he an honorable warrior or an animal with no reason?” Ben asked. “You can’t have it both ways, Tiny. If he attacks me, I’ll defend myself.”

  “And you’ll die.”

  “Says you.”

  “Says common sense,” Tenzin said. “You’re not thinking clearly. You’re too focused on the gold. You need to—”

  “You need to stop treating me as a child,” he said. “I’m not one. You think I’ve never stolen anything from someone more powerful and dangerous than me? Think again.”

  “Not. Brennus.”

  “You don’t even know this vampire.”

  “I know his type.”

  Ben took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “This is useless. I’m not asking your permission. I’ll dig during the day. It’ll offer another layer of protection. If Brennus wakes—”

  “And you think the church is just going to let you dig up the area under a historic standing stone for… what? Fun? Bribes? What’s your plan here?” she asked. “You need to have permission to dig during the day. I’m not going to be with you, so we can’t use amnis.”

  He paused and thought. She had a point. He couldn’t dig during the day without attracting human attention. The area was sparsely populated, but it wasn’t deserted. And he couldn’t dig at night, not when the monsters had free run of the countryside.

  “Dawn and dusk,” Ben said. “I’ll scout the location today at dusk. Before the sun goes down. Get a reading on how deep it is, then come back just before dawn and dig. It can’t be that deep, and he’s in stasis. He might even be sleeping. Not everyone is a day walker.”