The Serpent in the Stone - By Nicki Greenwood Page 0,55

Sara. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Sara’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t hear me unzip the door?”

“No. Zip it back up.”

Sara did, then took a seat beside her, only beginning to relax now that she saw her sister in one piece. She swept the table with a glance. On it sat the skull and belt buckle from the fault. “What are you doing?”

“I was in a divining trance. I didn’t think I was going to have company in the middle of the night.” She favored Sara with a worried look. “Are you okay?”

“I will be. We have to talk.”

“That’s an understatement,” said Faith. “You first.”

Sara took a breath and plunged in. “Ian came down and stayed part of the night.” Leaning forward, she dropped her tone to a whisper. “Faith, he caught Becky sneaking into my tent. I think she tried to steal the amulet.”

Faith opened her mouth in what was sure to be an anxious tirade.

“She didn’t get it,” Sara interrupted, “but Lamb just came out with a couple of the guys saying Ian attacked her. Ian went back to his camp, but I’m worried. I think the three of us should leave. I don’t know if we can trust anybody right now.”

“We can’t. I told you I read these...”

Sara cast a suspicious look at the skull resting on her sister’s table. Reading artifacts had always been a risky business for Faith. Reading human bones was categorically dangerous. “Faith...”

“After what happened today, I’d just as soon learn everything I can about this dig site, as fast as I can learn it. That scaffold didn’t stay down by itself today.”

Sara frowned. “Are you saying someone was pushing down on it? Like, with telekinesis?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I saw Flintrop and some of the others put it back up like it weighed nothing. Someone was holding it down in the first place. And that’s not all.” She picked up the skull and put it into Sara’s hands. “Say hello to Hakon Ivarsson.”

“Hakon?”

“Our druid-killer from the vision was a Viking, and not just any Viking. Sara, I’ve had dreams about him since I was a kid. Just flashes, mostly, but I think he wants me to do something. Help him. He’s the ghost I’ve been sensing since we got here, even without my power.”

Sara eased the skull back onto the table as if it were radioactive.

“I’ve spent all night trying to communicate with him,” Faith added. “Something’s keeping him from talking to me. I can only catch bits and pieces. He’s here right now.”

“Did he bring up the amulet?” Sara cast a suspicious look around as if the ghost would appear from thin air, though she knew better.

“I haven’t used Old Norse since college. I’m trying. He said something about the moon, the next full moon. He mentioned a sword, but I can’t make out what.” Faith sighed. “We have to stay on Hvitmar until I figure this out.”

“The next full moon isn’t for three weeks. If Becky knows about the amulet, others must know. If whoever wants it is like us and can use the amulet—if someone today pushed that scaffold down on Cameron—we are all in serious trouble,” Sara said.

“I don’t like it any better than you do. I don’t make the rules. At this point, I don’t even know the rules.”

Biting her lip, Sara thought of Ian’s father. “I—I think I’d better tell you something.” In halting words, feeling guilty for betraying Ian’s confidence, she related his father’s murder to Faith.

When she finished, her sister sat still as a marble obelisk. Sara watched her go through the same succession of emotions that she’d had. Shock. Horror. A twisted sense of kinship that there were others out there with proven supernatural abilities...and the worry that not all of them might be good souls.

Finally, Faith pursed her lips and picked up the belt buckle from her table. “I trust Hakon. I think he may be able to help us. I’m going to keep trying to speak to him.”

“Alone?”

“We haven’t got time to argue about it, have we? Besides, he won’t hurt me. I don’t know why I know that, but I know that.” Sara gave a doubtful murmur, but Faith cut her off. “He won’t leave tonight. If anyone comes, he’ll warn me.”

Sara paced the tent, realizing Ian had been right in his warning. “If Becky tried stealing the amulet tonight, what’s to stop her from sneaking into my tent again over three weeks? Your tent?” She felt the color