When I got back to Bergman’s lair, he’d finished translating some writing on the map that had stumped Cole, despite his extensive knowledge of languages.
“This cat’s amazing, you know that?” he asked me as I settled down on one of his cushy red chairs while Astral gave us both her inscrutable stare from the middle of his coffee table. It struck me then that she might be a frustrated centerpiece. But I was distracted from the thought when he shoved a copy of the map into my hands. “Look what she came up with.”
I nodded over the paper, which had English written in place of the words we hadn’t been able to translate before.
The paragraph at the top of the page read: Cursed and thrice cursed be ye who raise the Rocenz without offering proper dues or sacrifice.
For Cryrise’s hammer and Frempreyn’s chisel may spel your salvation, or your doom.
I found it harder to understand the words at the bottom: Who holds the hammer stil must find the keys to the triple-locked door.
“Wow, aren’t we al creepy and cryptic,” Cole said when Vayl had read out the entire translation.
Bergman slumped farther down in his chair. “This is ridiculous,” he said, his words beginning to slur as his fight to stay awake began to fail. “Hammers? Chisels? And now keys? Ya know, whoever made this map doesn’t know squat about real treasure.” He shook his finger in the air, like he was lecturing a bunch of unruly fourth graders.
“Diamonds, man! Silver crowns embedded with rubies the size of my fist! That’s what we’re supposed to be searching for!” He’d raised his hand to emphasize the point. Now he dropped it, plop, in his lap, like it weighed too much to bother with anymore. “I’m tired.”
“Why don’t you go to bed, Miles? We’ve got it from here,” I said.
Without waiting for his reply, Vayl picked him up and moved him to the bed, not even bothering to turn down the shimmering green spread before laying him gently on it.
Bergman struggled to his elbows. “Where’s Astral? Jaz?
Can Astral stay and, you know, keep me company?”
“Of course.” I gave the cat her order and she trotted over to Miles, who was already snoring. After patting his face experimental y with one paw, she decided he wasn’t going to issue any commands in the near future, and curled up under his chin.
I looked back at the guys, who were sitting on Bergman’s sofa, poring over the map.
“So does anybody know what al these colored squares and circles are supposed to represent?” asked Cole.
“Maybe it’s like a code,” said Sterling. “One color, or one sequence of colors, actual y means a word.” Cole stared at them for a while. “I don’t see a pattern.”
“Maybe it’s an actual map of someplace,” I suggested.
They looked up at me.
“Where?” asked Sterling. “There’s no reference to it.
There’s not even a key on the map to tel you which square or circle is which landmark.”
I held up my hand. “I know how we can find out.” I skipped downstairs and out the front door. “Yousef? I hope you’re not dragging poor Kamal along with you, because at four twenty in the morning I’d real y think you were a lowlife.” I waited. “Yousef! Get out of the damn bushes!”
Yousef stepped out from behind the thick growth of palm trees the original owner had planted at the front corner of Riad Almoravid. Sucker didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed.
I grabbed his hand. “Come on.”
He wouldn’t budge. Just stood there staring stupidly into my face, like he’d just heard the world was about to end. I slapped him and he came alive, his eyes sparkling as he spoke rapidly. I looked around for Kamal, but the kid had final y found the backbone to send his friend out solo.
So I beckoned for Yousef to fol ow me into the riad, which he did so eagerly I almost felt guilty. Until I reminded myself exactly what he was hoping to find on the other side of my bedroom door.
We trotted up to Bergman’s. “This is Yousef,” I said, yanking my hand out of his once I’d final y gotten him through the door. “He’s my stalker. Yousef? These are my friends. Cole, could you translate?”
Cole stood up, speaking quickly so our newest party guest wouldn’t run off before we could take advantage of his native knowledge. When it seemed like he’d run out of words I said, “Tel him we want to show him a picture and I want to know where in the city he thinks it’s located. Tel him I’d be very grateful if he’d think hard about what it could be before he says anything.”
I nodded to Sterling, who handed Yousef the map. He glanced so casual y at the writing that I decided he couldn’t read it. But the drawing he seemed to recognize right away, because he began speaking almost immediately.
“Of course!” Cole translated. “This is the tannery! It has been here for centuries! You should come see. I wil give you a tour.” He slapped himself on the chest proudly. “I give the skins second life.”
Big
—the first time Cole and I had run into them. And why they’d been holding bath supplies. When you work at a place that makes you wish for a gas mask, you’re definitely going to hit the hammam after work so you can dip yourself in scented soap and aftershave.
As Yousef chattered Cole explained. “Tanning is not just turning hides into leather for them. It’s mystical, watching the skin of a dead creature be reborn under their hands. These guys are also considered lords of fertility so, uh”—Cole started to grin—“if you’re having some problems in the baby-making department he says he’d be more than happy to lend you a hand.”
“I’m set,” I said. And I meant it. So why had Vayl gone so stil al of a sudden?
