leave this investigation without mixed feelings. I am concerned about Aaron Lightner. He has not called me for weeks. I would like to contact Aaron. Please advise.”
Around four a.m., the fax awakened Yuri. The reply had come back from Amsterdam. “Yuri, let this matter alone. Aaron is in good hands. There are no better investigators than Erich Stolov and Clement Norgan, both of whom are now assigned full-time to this case. This investigation is proceeding very rapidly, and someday you will hear the whole tale. Until then, all is secret. Do not ask to speak to Aaron again.”
Do not ask to speak to Aaron again?
Yuri couldn’t sleep after that. He went down into the kitchen. The kitchen was made up of several huge, cavernous rooms and full of the smell of baking bread. Only the night cooks worked, preparing this bread and pushing it into the huge ovens, and they took no notice of Yuri as he poured himself some coffee, with cream, and sat on a wooden bench by the fire.
Yuri realized that he could not abide by this directive from the Elders! He realized very simply that he loved Aaron, indeed that he was so dependent upon Aaron that he could not think of life without him.
It is a terrible thing to realize that you depend so much upon another; that your entire sense of well-being is connected to that one—that you need him, love him, that he is the chief witness of your life. Yuri was disappointed in himself and leery. But this was the realization.
He went upstairs and quietly placed a long-distance call to Aaron.
“The Elders have told me not to talk to you directly any longer,” he said.
Aaron was astounded.
“I’m coming,” said Yuri.
“This might mean expulsion,” said Aaron.
“We’ll see. I will be in New Orleans as soon as I can.”
Yuri made his plane arrangements, packed his bags and went down to wait for the car. Anton Marcus came down to see him, disheveled, in his dark blue robe and leather slippers, obviously just awakened from sleep.
“You can’t go, Yuri,” he said. “This investigation is becoming more dangerous by the moment. Aaron doesn’t understand it.”
He took Yuri into his office.
“Our world has its own timekeeper,” said Anton gently. “We are like the Vatican if you will. A century or two—that is not long to us. We have watched the Mayfair Witches for many centuries.”
“I know.”
“Now something has happened which we feared and could not prevent. It presents immense danger to us and to others. We need you to remain here, to wait for orders, to do as you are told.”
“No, I’m sorry. I’m going to Aaron,” said Yuri. He got up and walked out. He did not think about this. He did not look back. He had no particular interest in Anton’s emotional reaction.
He did take a long farewell look at the Motherhouse itself, but as the car went on towards Heathrow, there was really only one theme which played itself out in his mind, rather like a fugue. He saw Andrew dying in the hotel room in Rome. He saw Aaron sitting opposite him, Yuri, at the table, saying, “I am your friend.” He saw his mother, too, dying in the village in Serbia.
There was no conflict in him.
He was going to Aaron. He knew that was what he had to do.
Seven
LARK WAS SOUND asleep when the plane landed in New Orleans. It startled him to discover that they were already at the gate. Indeed, people were disembarking. The stewardess was beaming down at him, his raincoat dangling from her graceful arm. He felt a little embarrassed for a moment, as though he had lost some precious advantage; then he was on his feet.
He had a terrible headache, and he was hungry, and then the searing excitement of this mystery, this Rowan Mayfair offspring mystery, came back to him in the shape of a great burden. How could a rational man be expected to explain such a thing? What time was it? Eight a.m. in New Orleans. That meant it was only six a.m. back on the coast.
Immediately he saw the white-haired man waiting for him and realized it was Lightner before the man clasped his hand and said his own name. Very personable old guy; gray suit and all.
“Dr. Larkin. There’s been a family emergency. Neither Ryan nor Pierce Mayfair could be here. Let me take you to your hotel. Ryan will be in touch with us as soon as he can.” Same British