“He would have had them killed,” Daniel answered simply without reflection.
“That’s what I thought you’d say.” Chris walked toward the illuminated manuscripts and faced the wall, not speaking.
Daniel craned his neck. “You said you were going to explain?”
“I’m just having a hard time sorting out the bad guys from the good guys.” Chris continued to gaze at the manuscripts. “And I’m feeling colossally dense right now.”
“Why?” The scion peered up at him.
The librarian reclaimed his place on the bench. “Danny Boy, I got so caught up in the thrill of helping you solve your real-life Raiders riddles that I forgot to ask the most important question of all.”
The scion stared at Chris in mute bafflement.
“I forgot to ask whether it’s a good thing to give your father what he wants. Once they’re all assembled, what’s he going to use these artifacts for?”
Daniel shrugged helplessly. “He won’t tell me.”
“That, all by itself, is suspicious. A person who’s starting an art collection usually wants the world to know about it. A person who’s building a nuclear bomb usually doesn’t.”
“What nuclear bomb? You’re being absurd.”
“OK, maybe that’s a bad example but have you noticed anything strange going on with the brotherhood since your father first sent you chasing these relics?”
The scion paused to consider the question. “There are rumors. Nothing that pertains to what I’m doing.”
The librarian crossed his legs, interlacing his fingers around one knee. “So tell me about the rumors.”
“It’s said that my father has ordered secret facilities to be built near the main compound and at all the satellites where hand-picked men are given weapons and combat training. And then there’s the lab.”
“The lab?” Chris’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Again, it’s nothing but hearsay,” Daniel demurred. “A secret lab was supposedly built several miles from the main compound. A foreign doctor works there on a project for my father. Some of the rumors have grown to ludicrous proportions—that this doctor is creating a lethal substance and that my father is sending malefactors to the lab to be used as test subjects. They’re never seen again.”
The librarian studied his friend in stunned silence. “Danny Boy, connecting the dots isn’t your strong suit, is it?”
“You think all these facts are related?”
“Like a polygamist who marries his first cousin,” Chris countered scornfully. “I can’t believe you don’t see it.”
The scion’s gaze slid away. “You have to understand the way I was raised. Among the Nephilim, the greatest sin is disobedience. From the time we’re small, we’re taught to follow the commands of our parents without question. And that rule applies even more strictly when one’s father is the diviner— God’s voice on earth.”
Chris didn’t seem swayed by Daniel’s explanation. “I thought you dropped all that nonsense when you dropped your black suit and tie.”
The scion shook his head sadly. “Those beliefs run deep. Lately, I’ve been studying the subject of psychology, and I’ve learned about a hidden part of the mind called the unconscious. Maybe that’s where my compulsion to do as I’m told is lurking. Even if I don’t rationally think that blind obedience is a virtue, the urge to please my heavenly father and my earthly father is still alive at the core of my being.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Maybe that impulse forced me to suppress glaring evidence that my own flesh-and-blood could be guilty of horrible crimes. And yet...” He trailed off as he contemplated a new idea. “Some part of me knew and resisted. I’ve been waging a war with myself ever since this dismal relic quest began.” He laughed sardonically. “The thief named Cassie told me so a year ago. She said I had to get off the fence and pick a side.”
“And this woman is your enemy?” Chris’s tone was incredulous. “She sounds more like a friend offering you a piece of good advice.”
Daniel gave him a stricken look. “What do you think my father’s goal is?”
Chris raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know how the artifact hunt factors into it, but I think your father wants to start a war. Maybe he’s waiting to collect the last relic before he fires the first shot.”
“But the Nephilim are a peaceful sect. Our scriptures instruct us to bear up patiently under the corruption of the Fallen World until the Final Judgment is at hand.”
Chris smiled wryly. “As I’ve observed before, your father isn’t the patient sort. He probably got tired of waiting and decided to bump up the schedule on Judgment Day.”
“And you think he’ll launch some sort of attack once the Sage Stone is in his possession?”
The librarian nodded somberly.
Daniel leaped to his feet. “I can’t allow that! Innocent people would die. Not just the Nephilim. Thousands among the Fallen.” He could feel a wave of panic rising in his throat.
“Whoa, hold on there.” Chris’s tone was soothing. “You can’t quit cold turkey. Do you remember what we discussed that day we took our walk in Grant Park?”
The question curbed Daniel’s dark imaginings. He temporarily switched his focus from bloody visions of Armageddon to the peaceful stroll with his friend in the Beaux Arts Garden. “We were talking about the big picture,” he murmured, recalling the scene.
“Right.” The librarian stood and placed a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. In a gentle tone, he continued. “You remember I told you it would be worse if you didn’t continue the quest. That if it wasn’t you, your father would pick somebody more ruthless to take your place.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Daniel asked helplessly.
“You’ll play along. Pretend to cooperate. Maybe you can form an alliance with those
