Griffin shook hands. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”
“You too,” Rinchen replied. “See you both in Chicago.”
The twins receded into the shadows at the cave entrance, leaving Cassie and Griffin to their nerve-wracking vigil.
***
Two hours later, the pythia’s teeth were chattering. “My goddess, it’s cold up here!”
Even though they both wore winter parkas, the wind cut through the layers of insulation as if their coats had been made of cheesecloth. Cassie could feel the icy sting of snowflakes on her face. She huddled closer to Griffin. He tentatively slipped his arm around her shoulders. They had retreated to the far end of Saptarishi Cave between the pedestals of the last two chortens, their backs exposed to the mountainside. The bedsheet-sized prayer flags strung from the golden spires concealed them from the front as they waited for the Nephilim to arrive.
The pythia tensed when she heard the sound of falling gravel. She checked her watch again. It was two o’clock. “Say what you want about the Nephilim,” she whispered, “they’re very punctual.” She reached into her coat pocket and withdrew a compact stun gun. Handing it to Griffin, she explained, “Here, take this. I’ve got one too. If we’re both armed, we might stand a chance of making it through the night without getting shot.”
Griffin wordlessly accepted the weapon and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.
The crunch of footsteps on gravel became more distinct. Then flashlight beams illuminated the interior of the cave.
Cassie and Griffin pressed back against the chortens as far as they could without falling off the ledge entirely. The prayer flags which concealed them also cut off their view. All they could see were rays of light through a thin sheet of fabric.
At first, there was no sound but heavy breathing followed by a string of curses.
“Every goddam time we go on one of these junkets, I end up with gravel twixt my toes.” It sounded as if Hunt had seated himself on the floor of the cave and was shaking out his boots. The cowboy’s voice carried to such a distance that even without the use of their sight, Cassie and Griffin knew exactly what the Nephilim operatives were up to.
“Shhh!” Daniel hissed sharply.
“Who the hell is gonna hear us way up here in God’s waitin’ room?”
“I’ve been told that pilgrims sometimes camp out on the trail or even in the cave itself.”
“In this cold?” The cowboy’s voice was filled with disbelief. “If’n they wanna die of frostbite maybe. I didn’t see no tents on our way up. You got a bead on anybody in here?”
For one anxious moment, Cassie held her breath, wondering if the duo might actually make a thorough search of the cave. Her hand crept into the pocket that held her stun gun.
“No, there’s no one here,” came Daniel’s quiet reply. “I’m just saying there might be.”
“And there might be pixies dancin’ a conga line.” Hunt snorted in derision. “You got too much imagination, that’s your trouble.”
“I’m not inclined to disagree with you,” the scion remarked ruefully.
“Ain’t nobody around. Not even them three thieves who been doggin’ us since Day One. I ain’t seen hide nor hair of ‘em.”
“Nor have I.” Daniel sounded mildly relieved.
“And it’s a good thing too—for them. There’s scores that need settlin’, especially with Miss Cassie. If that scrappy little bitch ever comes at me again with that bug zapper of hers, I got a bullet with her name on it!”
“Mr. Hunt!” The scion’s shocked voice echoed through the cave.
Griffin’s arm tightened protectively around Cassie’s shoulder. She gave his hand a comforting squeeze.
“Oh, don’t you go boneless on me now, boy. You know your daddy give me a job to do—grab the doodads and don’t let nothin’ get in the way. Right from the start, them three made a whole career out of gettin’ in the way. All I’m sayin’ is if they do it again, it’ll be for the last time!”
“Fortunately, they haven’t shown themselves at all during this trip. Perhaps they’ve given up.”
“Smartest thing they could do,” Hunt concluded. “Well, let’s get on with it then. We gotta climb down this mountain before daylight.” It sounded as if the cowboy had risen to his feet. “You shine that flashlight over here so’s I can see. Now, where did I stash that screwdriver?”
For several minutes all was quiet as the two men worked at their task. Eventually, the sound of metal scraping against stone meant that the frame and sheet of glass had been removed.
The cowboy uttered a cry of triumph. “Ha! Got it.”
In the silence that followed, the relic was presumably being lifted from its niche.
“Careful now, you don’t want to shake loose any of them shiny rocks on this doodad,” the cowboy cautioned.
“I’ll be careful, Mr. Hunt. See, I’m lowering it very gently into my backpack. Are you happy now?”
“I’ll be a mite happier when we get shed of this town. I never seen a place where folks can’t even figure out how to brew a pot of tea without it tastin’ like stewed cowhide.”
“I should think you’d like it here,” the scion observed. “The Tibetans all seem to favor cowboy hats. You ought to feel right at home.”
“And that’s another thing!” Hunt exclaimed in an offended tone. “How’s a body supposed to feel special when all and sundry are sportin’ his style? These here locals look like a cross between John Wayne and Fu Manchu. It just ain’t natural! The sooner I scrape the grit of this place off my boots, the happier I’ll be.”
It sounded as if the cowboy was moving toward the entrance.
“Are you just going to leave the frame lying there on the ground?” Daniel challenged.
“What the hell am I gonna put it back for? It’s like shuttin’ the barn door after the horses run off!”
“Very well,” the scion relented. “We should be on our way.”
“Damn straight,” Hunt agreed. “Let’s get outta here.”
Cassie could see the glow from their flashlights fade as they made for
