The Serpent’s Curse. Tony Abbott
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stay with you. I never even thought of going home, and now I really want to, but I guess I should stay. I don’t know.”
Lily pulled away from Darrell and put her hand on Becca’s wrist, and Becca sat. It was like that for a long while, everyone quiet, eyes down, not knowing what to say.
Wade once more remembered his dream of the cave: Becca lying lifeless on the floor. Then the way Markus Wolff had stared at her in San Francisco. He suddenly feared that Becca might be in some particular kind of danger, but he still didn’t know how to express it. He just gazed at her, then at Lily, then at Becca again.
Finally, dishes were removed and dessert came, and that seemed to reset things.
“Is Boris Volkov a friend of yours?” Roald asked over a final coffee.
“No, not a friend,” Terence said, waving a waiter over and asking for the check. “But he’s useful. Listen to what he has to say. He knows many people in Russia who may be able to help you. However, I wouldn’t entirely trust him. Boris doesn’t do anything for nothing.”
Wade felt uneasy to hear those words. But he hoped that the mysterious Russian would shed light on the relic’s whereabouts. At the very least, the family was, as his father had hoped, moving forward.
To Russia. To the second relic … and Sara.
“In the meantime,” Julian said, “Dad and I will focus on finding out what we can from our side. The instant we discover anything, we’ll call you.”
“Night or day,” Roald said, looking around at the children.
With a final firm pledge of assistance, Terence made a call. Seven minutes later, Dennis pulled up outside the Water Club in yet another limo. Their luggage packed and safely in the trunk, the kids and Roald began their roundabout journey to JFK, to await their evening flight to London.
Madrid; London
March 19
Ebner von Braun woke to the tinny ascending scale of a digital marimba that suddenly sounded like a skeleton drumming a piano with its own bones. It was a ringtone he was determined to change at his first opportunity.
He blinked his eyes onto a black room.
Where am I?
More marimba.
Right.
Madrid.
He slid open the phone. “¿Hola?”
It was an Orc from the Copernicus Room. He listened. “¿Londres?” he said. “¿Cuándo?” The voice replied. Ebner pulled the phone away from his face. “¿Quién es el jefe del Grupo de los Seis?”
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