She could tell he was on the edge of refusing again, but something finally held him back. “Hold on,” he said at last. “There’s someone I can call, a friend of mine who’s an expert in Egyptian history and mythology if you’re interested in learning more.”
Tessa started to say that wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind but then realized that was as close an admission as he was going to make.
He might not know she was recording him, but he was still cautious of saying anything that might be quoted back against him. She gave a small nod. “Thank you.”
He took out his ego and strolled off to one of the small storage rooms adjacent to the main conference area. Although he shut the door, Tessa could still make out occasional snatches of conversation.
“. . . don’t know . . . one of the elect . . . young . . . would have to be in public . . . bodyguard.”
Tessa waited as patiently as she could, with panic welling up inside her as she tried to school her face to neutrality. She hoped whatever nervousness she showed about her lies would just be read as anxiety about the recurring dreams. When Dr. Cassidy returned, his face was grim.
“Well, we’ve got a bit of luck, but I don’t think we can take advantage of it. My friend is actually here downtown as we speak, finishing up dinner with another colleague. She says she’d be willing to talk to you, which is nice and provides the convenience of a public place to meet, but she wouldn’t want your bodyguard around. Or even me. It’s really best at this point if you just meet with her, so we’ll have to find a time when you can be on your own to talk to her.”
Tessa could feel the opportunity starting to slip away, and her gaze fell on the adjoining rooms. “Do any of those lead out?”
“One is shared with a neighboring conference room, so—no,” he said with a groan. “No. I’m not going to encourage you to slip away from your bodyguard. Your family has that protection for a reason.”
“It’s my decision to make. Just tell your friend I’ll be there, and tell me where to go.” Seeing his reluctant face, she added, “There’s been no sign of danger, and it’s pretty unlikely tonight’s the night some adversary followed us here and is waiting outside this building—on its very public street—hoping that I’ll just happen to walk out alone.”
Dr. Cassidy wasn’t happy about the plan. Really, when all was said and done, he was a pretty upright person and didn’t want to be involved in the corruption or endangerment of youth. But it was also clear he felt her concerns and “dreams” needed addressing, and he took a chance on what he saw as the greater good, especially since his contact was relatively close and in a safe area. He showed Tessa the storage room that led to another conference room, which in turn was serviced by a corridor and elevator different from the one Rufus was currently waiting for her in. She sent Rufus a message saying she was staying late to help work on a project. He should have no reason to actually come look in the room to check on her, and if all went well, she could return later with him none the wiser.
Dr. Cassidy’s contact was dining in a very upscale establishment, and Tessa was glad she’d followed the YCC’s style of wearing dress clothes to their meeting. She still felt self-conscious as she stepped into the dining room, having to tell the hostess that she didn’t even know the name of who she was looking for. All Dr. Cassidy had told her was to look for a black-haired woman with gold coins in her hair.
Tessa soon found her, dining at a corner table with a man whose back was to Tessa. The cold coins were part of barrettes used to pin the woman’s thick hair into an elaborate updo. Tessa approached, and the woman glanced up. She said something to her companion that must have been a dismissal or farewell because he rose and held out his hand to shake hers goodbye. Tessa reached the table and then froze as he turned to leave.
It was Geraki.
The one time they’d met, he’d been in jeans and a T-shirt, so it was surprising to see him in an expensive suit now, with his shoulder-length hair neatly pulled back. He looked equally astonished and then threw back his head and laughed.
“You, huh?” he said to Tessa. “I should’ve guessed you were the potential protégée Damaris was meeting. Justin seems so reluctant when we meet, and all the while he’s been encouraging your calling. I knew his faith was greater than he let on. Enjoy the evening, ladies.”
He gallantly offered his chair to Tessa who took it nervously, as her stunned mind tried to fully process what he’d just said. The woman across from her had a serene, statuesque kind of beauty and smiled kindly at Tessa. “My name is Danique,” she told Tessa, who silently noted that that wasn’t the name Geraki had called her. “Our mutual friend tells me you’ve been troubled by dreams. I hope I might be able to help you.”
Tessa spun out the same story she’d told Dr. Cassidy, feeling even more anxious than before. If Danique was some kind of expert, then surely she’d see the lie that her colleague had missed. But Danique’s face remained calm and intrigued, showing no trace of disbelief or indignation.
“That’s fascinating,” she said when Tessa finished.
“I think it sounds silly,” Tessa responded. “I’m worried I’ve wasted your time. And Dr. Cassidy’s. It’s just a dream.”
“A dream that stays with you in the day and has left a lasting impression,” clarified Danique. “There’s nothing silly about that. There are some who believe the gods speak to us in dreams. Have you ever heard that?”
Tessa was a bit taken aback. Even though she’d hoped to insinuate supernatural involvement with her dream story, she hadn’t expected it would be met with this sort of response. “No. I mean, not in seriousness.”
“There are some who believe the gods have returned to us again and are now battling for a place in the world. Those who believe gods are active in the affairs of mortals also believe that only a few very, very lucky people have direct communication with those gods. Dreams are the preferred means of contact. Such people might think that you were sent a divine message.”
“Do you think that?” asked Tessa, noticing that Danique was very careful to use terms like “such people” and “those who believe.”
Danique’s dark eyes glittered with amusement. “I’m not the one who sought out help. What do you think? Did your dream feel like something unusual?”
“Yes,” said Tessa, again feeling bad at the lie. “But I don’t really feel like it was a direct message.”
“What does it make you want to do?”
Tessa groped for a response that would be both believable and further her goals. “It makes me want to learn more about the things I saw in my dream. I mean, I guess I already am learning more about Senator Darling—being with the YCC and all. It’s the other stuff that pulls me but that I still just don’t get. Like the falcon. And that statue of O-Osiris. That was his name, right? Dr. Cassidy said you’re an expert in Egyptian stuff.”
“That I am,” Danique agreed. “And your conclusions seem logical.
If you feel like you need to learn more about those things, then perhaps you should.”
“I did!” exclaimed Tessa, not needing to feign exasperation. “I looked all over the stream and found lots of things . . . but nothing that seemed real. Nothing that reached me in here.” Tessa touched her chest.
“If you’re saying a god reached out to me, then I feel like whatever response I make—if it’s the right one—is really going to be something I feel.”
“I never said a god was reaching out to you,” Danique said craftily.
“You know more about this than the stream does,” said Tessa.
“You know about these gods—what’s real and what’s meaningful. Please. Tell me what it all means.”
“Have you ever heard people referred to as ‘elect,’ Tessa? No? Well, let me see how best to phrase it. Some believe that there are people—humans like you and me—marked as special, often with notable powers or abilities, who are desired by the gods.”
Tessa’s breath caught. “You think I’m someone like that?”
“No,” said Danique bluntly. “Well, I could be wrong, but I’m usually good at sensing that kind of thing, and I don’t get that vibe from you.”
Tessa had started to get caught up in her act enough that she was almost too disappointed at not being “special” to realize that Danique had slipped for the first time, admitting that she had some involvement with gods.
“Most people are simply worshippers, some fulfilling important functions in a church or temple, but not having that exceptional quality that marks the elect. There’s another category, however, which some call the ‘the ascendants.’ Those are ordinary people, not initially marked like the elect, who nonetheless through remarkable cunning or dedication manage to rise in the ranks of godly esteem and nearly match the elect.”
“You think I’m like that?” asked Tessa, again reminding herself this was all nonsense.
“I don’t know,” admitted Danique. “Usually, an ascendant has purposely sought out the service of a god and worked hard before getting any favor. But there are always exceptions. You getting summoned out of the blue would seem odd to believers, but gods are rarely predictable.”
“What should I do?”
“If you think a god tried to reach out to you, then show your receptiveness. Keep researching—even if you don’t think anything will come of it. Pray. Meditate. Seek wisdom, and maybe the shape of your dreams will change.”
“But I can’t talk to anyone who actively worships that god,” said Tessa, not needing to hide her disappointment.
Danique’s expression grew gentle. “This is a dangerous path for any Gemman, let alone one who isn’t a citizen. Dr. Cassidy told me some of your background. As much as you’d like to learn more from others, solitary learning and contemplation is the best path for you right now. You shouldn’t attract attention, not when you’re so young and without citizenship. This counsel really is for the best. But know that people like me and Dr. Cassidy will be watching. If the time is right . . . well, who can say what will happen someday?”
A message lit up Tessa’s ego, and she saw it was from Rufus:
WHERE ARE YOU?
Apparently, he’d found a reason to come by the room. She wrote back: I’m fine. I’ll talk to you soon.
She turned her attention back to Danique. “I have to go soon. Can you at least tell me what the other things meant? Why did I see a falcon? Why did it turn into Senator Darling?”
“You tell me,” said Danique. “You said you’d researched. Did you find anything about a falcon?”
“The falcon is Horus,” said Tessa. “Is Lucian Darling Horus?”
Danique blinked in surprise. She clearly hadn’t expected that leap.
“In ancient Egypt,” she said, “they believed those marked with greatness became kings and rulers. Then they became the chosen of Horus.”
“So he’s not Horus yet,” said Tessa. “Or won’t really ever be. But he is special and will have Horus’s blessing to guide and lead if he becomes consul?”
Another message from Rufus popped up: If you don’t tell me where you are now, I’ll go to the police and have the GPS locator in your ego activated. What follows won’t be pretty.
Tessa quickly sent Rufus the name of a café across the street and stood up. “I have to go. But am I right? Is Lucian Darling one of the elect? And will he have a god’s power to help guide the country?”
“I think you’re wiser than you know,” said Danique enigmatically.
“And that you should think on what I said about ascendants.”
“Thank you for meeting with me.” Tessa started to leave, then remembered something. “That man who was here—Demetrius Devereaux. Geraki. Is he a, uh, expert in Egyptian mythology too?”
“No,” laughed Danique. “He’s an expert in another area. But we share many similar goals.”
Tessa thanked her again and headed out to meet Rufus. She dreaded the chastisement to come, but Rufus wasn’t her parent. He could only scold and turn her over to Cynthia . . . what would happen then was anyone’s guess. It was hard to be too worried, though, after everything she’d learned and heard tonight. Maybe she hadn’t received any direct confessions, but she was certain that her microphone had recorded more than enough for Daphne to build a pretty incriminating case against Lucian.
The thing was, Tessa realized, there might also be a case against Justin.
CHAPTER 21
Detour
As Mae neared the outskirts of the Holy Lake, the road split into two.
One fork led to what was marked as a public camping and recreation area, something Mae found almost comical. It seemed ludicrous to imagine these hardened, devout people participating in anything like a lakeside picnic. The road’s other branch had signs warning that it was private and was for authorized personnel only. Mae decided this was the most likely route for the Grand Disciple’s residence and found a small pull-off on the road that kept the van concealed from any other traffic passing in the night. After a little maneuvering, she managed to turn off the engine and remove the keys.
“I have to step out for a minute,” she told Cecile. “You’re in charge. You and . . . who’s the closest to a leader this group has?”
Cecile nodded toward one of the older girls in the back, who looked a bit startled at the attention. She’d regarded Mae warily back at the house, but Mae had long since discovered the pressure of responsibility could end up swaying someone to your side.