top row, grasped it, and pulled it out sharply. Alexander winced, then they both looked at each other and smiled.
“Nothing’s going to happen yet, right?” Montross asked. “Not until I set everything in position. Put all the pegs where I want them, and then try the door. At that point, either it opens…”
“Or,” said Alexander, “we both get squished.”
“Squished?” He looked up at the ceiling, then the cracks along the walls. He cocked his head. “What’s he got up there? A trap ceiling? Something to crush the hapless intruders? Or do the walls close in like that garbage compactor in the first Star Wars?”
“It was actually Episode Four,” Alexander corrected.
“First for me,” Xavier said. “So, how do you know there aren’t hidden blades that might come out and slice us to pieces?”
“I don’t know.”
“How about fire? A release of natural gas and a spark? And after the inferno your mom can come down here and sweep up our ashes?”
Alexander grimaced. “I don’t know, but I’ve dreamed of stuff like that.”
“Have you now?”
“Traps just like that taking care of people like you.”
“And what kind of person am I, Alexander?”
Without pause he said, “A thief.”
Montross smiled. “You know, your Uncle Robert came here with me. Is he a thief, too?”
“I don’t believe he’s really with you, but I guess he is if he came to take something that doesn’t belong to him.”
“He did, and let this be an early life lesson for you, kid. Some people will do anything for power. Anything. And the kind of power promised by that artifact in there, it can make friends turn against friends, family against family. You just can’t trust anyone. Can’t trust your mom and dad, can’t trust them even to come home and see you again after a night out. Can’t trust the world, can’t trust God or Fate or anything. The only thing you can trust are your visions, and sometimes not even those, not until you’re really sure your head’s not fu-” He smiled, catching himself. “Your head’s not playing games with you.”
“What are you talking about?” He looked to the stairs at the other end of the room, and thought he might be able to make it if he burst into a run, sprinting with Dash-like speed, but then he was struck with the thought that if he left, the treasure would be defenseless.
He was its protector. While it was true he hadn’t quite figured it all out, he had spent more time down here in his short life than anyone else had. He was closest to it, and sometimes he felt that just by being outside of the entrance, in this testing room, he could feel its power. Feel it calling to him, feel it changing him. Making him stronger. And he could be more patient, since he knew it was there, his birthright.
“Never mind, kid. We’re going in. Sorry to cut short your lesson and interfere with your dad’s teaching plan, but I’m going to cheat and give you the answer.” He started pulling out pegs and resetting them. Alexander tried to look around his broad shoulders to see where he was inserting the pegs, to see if it made any sense.
“What have you figured out so far, my boy?” Montross said after placing the third peg in a new position on the lower shelf.
“I learned that I’m not to share what I’ve learned with thieves.”
“Very good,” Montross said, shaking his head. “But I’m guessing you at least understand the basic concepts of alchemy, one of the key tenets which is ‘As Above-’”
“‘-so Below,” Alexander whispered, completing the mantra he had learned years ago.
“Correct. All that mumbo-jumbo about recreating the heavenly aspects down on earth, in architecture as well as literature, reflecting the orientation and movements of the heavens onto the earth, but also doing the same thing spiritually. Becoming more than mortal, achieving the immortality promised by heaven.”
Alexander swallowed. “So is that what you’re here to steal? Immortality?”
Montross began work on the middle shelf. “You wouldn’t understand my motives, Alexander. Not until you’re a little-no, a lot older.” He took one peg from the middle and moved it two holes to the right, then he stood back, nodding.
“My dad,” Alexander whispered, “did you hurt him?”
Montross turned, regarding the boy quietly. “Did you see something?”
His eyes filling with emotion, Alexander nodded. “Under the ice.”
Montross turned away, lowering his head. “I think he’ll be okay. Sorry, but I needed the Morpheus Initiative out of the way, preoccupied. Needed their focus elsewhere, so they wouldn’t be tipped off about this.”
“There was a woman,” Alexander said. “She’s scary.”
“God, kid, you’re good. Maybe you’re more like me than I thought.”
Alexander withered under the man’s gaze. He felt like he was being analyzed by a crocodile looking for a hint of fear, or just the juiciest area to bite first.
Montross said, “I saw my parents killed before it even happened. It did wonders for me, let me tell you. That kind of freedom, at such a young age. I spent so many years believing that what I saw, what I drew, could have the power to kill. That it was my fault.”
“But that’s not what it does. You’re just seeing the future.”
“I know. But when I was your age, I saw the world a little differently. Thought I was so much more.” Montross looked down at his empty hands, and Alexander wondered if the thief imagined himself holding some scepter of kingship or a torch of knowledge. Whatever it was, Alexander didn’t care.
“Are you going to kill me and Mom?”
Montross turned to him and sighed. “Listen, I’m not a killer, not normally. That’s why for those times where it’s necessary, I use someone like that woman you saw, like Nina. But no, you can help me. You and your mom will be having pie and ice cream in no time, waiting for your daddy to come home. Just a nice happy family again”-he bent to the lowest shelf, took out a peg and moved it all the way to the left-“minus one Emerald Tablet, of course.”
Up at the farmhouse, Lydia sat at the kitchen table, the two mercenary types standing at the door, hands on their guns, while Robert made another pot of coffee.
“Robert,” she whispered. “It’s not too late. Call this off. Send these men out of here before someone gets hurt.”
“I’ve searched too long for that tablet, given up so much. We both have.”
“I know, but if Caleb does have it, he only has our best interests at heart. And, knowing him, he’s probably rigged the lighthouse basement with some god-awful traps, and heaven help you if Alexander is down there when they go off.”
“Montross has it figured out. Don’t worry, I trust him.”
“Like I trusted my husband?” Lydia shook her head. “Robert, this artifact is too powerful. It makes liars out of everyone. How do you know he won’t just turn around and kill us all once he’s found it?”
“He won’t.”
“He could be just like Waxman. Have you thought of that?”
“I have, and he won’t. Besides,” Robert patted his side where Lydia could see the outline a gun strapped under his heavy sweater in a shoulder harness. His face darkened and his eyes tinted with a heady sense of power she had never seen in him before. “We Keepers have our defenses.”
Lydia shook her head, eyeing the two guards. “This is insane. And my son-your nephew-might be down there.”
Robert smiled. “Something tells me Alexander can take care of himself just fine.”
#
“I don’t understand,” said Alexander, a little braver now that he didn’t feel like his life was in immediate danger. “I felt like I was close, but couldn’t figure it out. How do the shelves relate to the ‘As Above, So Below’ thing?”
“You’ll see.”
“I could get it if there were just two shelves-a top and bottom, above and below, but the middle one messes
