Daniel couldn’t follow them through security. He stood uncertainly in the terminal lobby, still wondering at his bizarre need to identify them. Then the reason hit his consciousness with a force that made him tremble. He had just seen three ghosts! The scion staggered to the nearest bench. He felt dizzy and feared he might pass out from the shock. His mind was surely playing tricks on him. The three Fallen from Karfi were dead! Two had suffocated in the earthquake, and the third had tumbled off a cliff. He had seen those things happen with his own eyes.
Daniel sunk his face into his hands. What did this mean? His mind had absurdly fixed on three random people who bore a passing resemblance to the departed ones. He thought he had left his guilty conscience behind in Chicago, but it had obviously pursued him across the ocean to torture him anew. Would this be his fate as he continued the relic quest? To be haunted by the memory of his crimes when he least expected it? Would he project a false resemblance every time he saw a group of three people walking together? Was he going mad?
The scion thought grimly that if he were going mad, it was no more than he deserved. The blood of the innocent stained his own hands just as surely as it stained the hands of Leroy Hunt. For a brief second, he flashed on Hannah’s plaintive face the last time they had spoken together. Her words echoed in his head. “How bad does it have to get before you finally walk away?”
Not yet, he thought. Demons taunting him in the guise of ghosts were only the beginning. He had a foreboding that fresh horrors lay in store. He hadn’t suffered nearly enough for his sins. He felt the worst was still to come.
Chapter 26 – Bask in the Culture
“It must be nearby.” Griffin paused at an intersection to consult the slip of paper in his hand.
The Arkana team had just finished checking into a vintage hotel off the Plaza Moyua in Bilbao, Spain and were now en route to the restaurant where their trove contact was to meet them.
“This way, I believe.” The scrivener struck off to the right, and his two teammates followed.
“So, how’s your room?” Cassie tried to conceal her impish expression as she asked Erik the question.
The security coordinator gave her an impassive glance. “Fine.”
“No broom closet, this time?”
“Nope.”
“Maddie must have finally gotten over her snit because you trashed that hotel room in Venice.”
“Allegedly. I allegedly trashed it.”
The pythia laughed. “You’re still going with that story?”
“Why doesn’t anybody believe me?” Erik finally grinned in spite of himself. “Anyway, Maddie booked me a decent room this time.”
“She’s decided to let bygones be bygones?”
Erik paused a long moment before replying. “Not exactly. She made me sign a waiver before we left that says if I set anything else on fire the repairs are coming out of my paycheck.”
Cassie couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. “Kind of gives you an incentive to act all middle-aged and responsible, doesn’t it?”
“That’ll be the day!” The security coordinator snorted in derision.
Their conversation ended when Griffin came to an abrupt stop. He compared his scribbled directions to the building in front of them and announced, “Here we are.”
They were standing in front of a cafe with outdoor seating. Since the weather was warm for early fall, they decided to place their orders and eat outside while waiting for their contact.
None of them were prepared for the sight which greeted them when they entered the cafe. Under a glass dome lay a dizzying array of small plates of food. Each item rested on a thick slice of what appeared to be French bread and was skewered with a very long toothpick. Some of the creations looked like vertical shish kebobs.
“What are those?” Cassie asked cautiously
Griffin pointed wordlessly to a sign on the wall which read Pinxtos.
“Oh, here we go again.” She sighed. “Practically every sign I’ve seen since we got here has a word with an X in it. Did they get tired of using all the other letters? How do you pronounce that? ‘Pinks toes?’”
“As in Maltese, the X is pronounced as SH.”
“For crying out loud! Why don’t they pronounce an X like the rest of the world, instead of SH?”
“Shhh!” Griffin replied.
“That’s what I said. Stop correcting me,” Cassie muttered indignantly.
“I don’t mean SH; I mean shhh as in keep your voice down.” The scrivener glanced furtively toward the cashier. “The Basque people are very proud of their language. It’s called Euskara, and it’s very ancient. I don’t think they appreciate tourists mocking their mother tongue.”
“Sorry,” Cassie whispered. “But honestly, they’ve got a J that’s pronounced like Y and a Z that’s pronounced like S. Now it’s an X that’s pronounced like SH. Why not get rid of the extra letters if you’re not planning on using them? Maybe send the spares to those Balkan countries where there’s a vowel shortage.”
By this time the trio had reached the counter where row upon row of pinxtos confronted them. They stood wavering in indecision.
“Whatever you call them, they do look good,” Cassie admitted.
Thus far Erik had been silent. He frowned. “I don’t see any cheeseburgers.”
Cassie stared at the security coordinator in disbelief. “Dude, I have now watched you eat cheeseburgers in three separate countries. For the love of goddess, it’s enough already. Man up and try something different.”
The security coordinator made no reply other than continuing to scowl at the offending plates.
After vacillating for several more moments, they made their
