The Medici Dagger

Medici Dagger pressed to her throat, his Glock 17 aimed at my heart. Two feet away, Werner Krell leaned against the railing, sweat pouring down his face, eyes wild and darting. Heath wasn’t there.

“Ace . . . you do always turn up, don’t you?” Nolo said. “Say hello to Herr Krell.”

My chest heaved, breath rasping in my smoke-scorched throat. My eyes locked on Ginny’s. The wind blew her hair across her terrified face.

“Ginny,” I whispered.

Nolo nodded at my gun. “Put it down.”

I laid it on the platform floor, my mind racing.

“Boot it over,” Tecci ordered.

I kicked it into the ravenous gorge. “Where’s Heath?”

“He took a little stroll,” Tecci smirked.“Missed all the fireworks.”

Krell clasped his hands together and looked up. “If there was a heaven, neglected fruit would sail skyward instead of crashing to the dirt to molder and reek. So you see, Newton’s law of gravity is really God’s precept of the plummeting souls of fruit and men. And my bombs . . . my bombs, which will carry their souls in their skin. Each one consecrated by the blood of the Medici Dagger.” He flashed a smile that oozed madness.

I felt boundless rage. “You’re fucking insane,” I seethed.

“The time for talk is over, boys,” Tecci said.

Krell cackled,“Ah, time. Time, time, time. What time is it, anyway?”

“It’s later than you think,” Nolo said.

The smile dropped off Krell’s smooth face.“No it isn’t,” he snapped. “It’s exactly when I think! You told me,‘Time is a desert.’ Well, this ismytime. I am God’s camel, and your only purpose is to fill my hump. And now I have the Dagger and the desert is mine! So, do what you have to do,” he ordered, waving his hand at me. “I’ve got history to make.”

My skin prickled.

“Werner,” Nolo said quietly, almost reverently. “Welcome to history.”

He turned the gun on Krell, shooting him between the eyes. The blast sent him over the railing into a tumbling free fall. Ginny screamed as he pointed the smoking gun back at me.

“I’ll miss him quoting me,” he said.

“You just killed Werner Krell,” I said, stalling. “When did you decide to do that? Really, I’m interested.”

Nothing.

I tried again. “You never cared about the alloy, did you? About Krell’s plans or Soon Ta Kee. What were you and Heath up to?”

“That depends on when, Flame Boy,” he said.

“You blackmailed Heath’s father, way back in merry old England,” I said, “didn’t you?”

He looked surprised for a second, then amused.

“You told him about you and Jack, and threatened to spread the news.”

Nolo laughed again. “How’d you figure that out? Jack never did.”

“And you didn’t like it much when Krell and Ta Kee paired up, either.”

“Flame Boy, do I look like someone who socializes with people who take rickshaw rides? When Werner connected with Ta Kee, in my mind, his day was done. You see I’m really quite a free spirit. Freedom—that’s what satiates my appetite. Werner, he was way different. His gut was full from grazing in his personal pasture of horrors for so long. Hey, that’s a good line; I should write that down. So, satellites, bombs, who cares? I get to enjoy the smell of fresh air again.”

“You mean flesh air,” I said, anger spiking. “Burning flesh.”

“It’s true. I do like that, too. The smell of blood isn’t bad either, or the scent of a man . . . or a wet woman. Oops,” he said, pressing the blade against Ginny’s throat. “She’s starting to tremble.”

“She’s amajorpain in the ass, isn’t she?” I blurted.

Ginny gaped at me.

“You mean pain in the neck,” Nolo chuckled. “Literally. You know she tried to stab me in the throat with her little pig here?” He pointed to Ginny’s stick pin woven into his lapel.“It was right after I told her about signing you. Personally, I think she has a crush on you. Tell me it’s true, honey.” Nolo sang, “You’ve got a crush on Ace . . . sweetie piiiie . . .”

Tears trailed down Ginny’s cheeks.

“She’s a smart one, though,” I said, barely containing.

“Oh yeah, a real Poindexter. You should have seen her figuring out da Vinci’s poetry. It was beautiful, too, those Circles of Truth. Shewanted this knife badly. And now,” he said, laying the flat of the blade against Ginny’s jaw, “she’s gonna get it.”

“No,” Ginny pleaded, squirming against his arm. “Reb, please . . .”

“What, honey?” Tecci laughed. “You think Flame Boy’s going to save you? Wrong. You’re next. I’m the carver, babe, and you’re going to do the sleeping. Down in the mighty whorl.”