Key of Knowledge - SG - Chaps 12&13 - 18/7/10 - Page 2

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so different
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Chapter Four

Mayank saw three things when he charged into the room after his dog: his sister sitting on the floor laughing like a lunatic; a sharp-looking brunette standing at the end of the couch heroically trying to dislodge Moe; and, to his surprise and delight, the woman he'd been thinking about for the better part of the day, mostly buried under Moe's bulk and insane affections.

M -"Okay, Moe, down. I mean it. That's enough." He didn't expect the dog to listen. He always tried; Moe never listened. But it seemed the right thing to do as he gripped the dog around the barrel of his belly. He had to lean down—well, maybe not quite as far as he did. But she had the prettiest eyes, even when they were shooting daggers at him.

M -"Hi. Nice to see you again." Muscles jumped in her jaw when she clenched it.

N -"Get him off!"

M -"Working on it."

G -"Hey, Moe! Cookie!" That did the trick. Moe leaped over the crate, nipped the cookie out of the hand Gunjan held in the air, then landed. It might have been a graceful landing if he hadn't skidded several feet over the uncarpeted floor.

G -"Works like a charm." Moe loped back, the cookie already history, and insinuated his bulk under it.

R -"Wow. He's really a big dog." Ridz eased over, held out a hand, then grinned when Moe licked it lavishly. "Friendly."

N -"Pathologically friendly. That's the second time today he's landed on me."

Brushing at the dog hair that had transferred itself to her once pristine linen shirt.

M -"He likes girls.You never told me your name."

G -"Oh, so you're the idiot and his dog. Should've known. This is Nupur Bhushan, and Ridhima Gupta. My brother, Mayank."

R -"Are you Mayank Sharma, M.Sharma, wih the Valley dispatch !?" chrouching to stroke Moe's ear, looked up at mayank under her bangs.

M -"Guilty."

R -"I've read a lot of your articles, and I never miss your column."

M -"Thanks. Is this a book club meeting, and will there be cake?"

G -"No. But if you've got a minute, maybe you could sit down." Patting the floor. "We'll tell you what it is."

M -"Sure." But he sat on the couch. "Nupur Bhushan? The Gallery, right?"

N -"Not anymore," she grimaced.

M -"I've been in a couple times, must've missed you. I don't cover arts and entertainment. I see the error of my ways." She noticed He had the nicest eyes and smile

N- "I doubt we have anything to offer that could complement your decor."

M -"You hate the couch, right?"

N -" 'Hate' is much too mild a word."

G -"It's very comfortable." He glanced over at Gunjan's comment and smiled.

M -"It's a napping couch. You nap, your eyes are closed, so you don't care what it looks like.Celtic Mythology" he read, angling his head to read the titles on the

books scattered over the crate. "Myths and Legends of the Celts" He picked one up, turned it in his hands as he studied his sister. "What gives?"

G -"I told you I was going to that cocktail party at Warrior's Peak?"

His face went hard the instant the affable smile faded.

M -"I thought you weren't going because I said there had to be something off about that since nobody I talked to got an invitation."

Gunjan picked up her Coke can, gave him a mildly interested look.

G -"Do you actually think I listen to you?"

M -"No."

G -"Okay, then. Here's what happened." She'd barely begun when he turned away from her and those nice eyes sharpened on Nupur's face.

M -"You got an invitation?"

N -"Yes."

M -"And you." He nodded at Ridz. "What do you do, Ridhima?"

R -"Right now I'm an unemployed hairdresser, but—"

M -"Married?"

R -"No."

M -"Neither are you," he said as he looked at Nupur again. "No ring. No 'I'm married' vibe. How long have the three of you known each other?"

G -"Mayank, stop doing a damn interview. Just let me tell you what happened."

Gunjan started again, and this time he boosted a hip off the couch, took a notebook out of his back pocket. Doing her best to appear as if she wasn't the least bit interested in what he was doing, Nupur slid her gaze to the left and down. He used shorthand, she realized. And real shorthand, not any sort of bas***dized version, as she did. She tried to decipher it as Gunjan spoke, but it made her a little dizzy.

M -" "The Daughters of Glass,' " he muttered and kept scribbling.

N -"What? "You know this story?" Without thinking, nupur reached over and clamped her fingers on his wrist.

M -"A version of it, anyway. My Irish nanny told me lots of stories." Since he had her attention, he shifted toward her. His knee bumped hers.

N -"Why didn't you recognize it?" nupur asked gunjan.

M -"She didn't have my Irish nanny."

G -"Actually, we're steps, My father married his mother when I was eight."

M -"Or my mother married her father when I was eleven. It's all point of view." He reached up to toy with the ends of Nupur's hair, grinned easily when she batted his fingers aside. "Sorry. There's just so much of it, it's irresistible. Anyway, my nanny liked to tell stories, so I heard plenty of them. This one sounds like "The Daughters of Glass.' Which doesn't explain why the three of you were invited up to the Peak to

listen to a faerie tale."

R -"We're supposed to find the keys," sneaking a peek at her watch.

M -"You're supposed to find the keys to unlock their souls? Cool. Now it's my duty to ask how, when, and why."

G -"If you'd shut up for five minutes, I'd tell you. Nupur goes first. She has twenty-eight days, starting today, to find the first key. When she does, either Ridz or I goes

next. Same drill. Then the last of us gets her shot."

M -"Where's the box? The Box of Souls?" Gunjan frowned as Moe deserted her to sniff Nupur's toes.

G -"I don't know. They must have it. Pitte and Rowena. If they don't the keys won't do them any good."

M -"You're telling me you're buying this? Miss Steeped-in-Reality? And you're going to spend the next few weeks looking for keys that open a magic glass box that holds the souls of three goddesses."

N -"Demigoddesses. And it isn't a matter of what we believe. It's a business deal." Nupur nudged Moe with her foot to discourage him.

G -"They paid us twenty-five thousand each. In advance."

M -"Twenty-five thousand dollars' ! Get out!"

N - "The money's been deposited in our bank accounts. It's been verified." Forgetting herself, Nupur reached for a cookie. Moe immediately dropped his heavy head on her knee. "Could you call off your dog?"

M -"Not as long as you've got cookies. These two people, whom you don't know, gave each of you twenty-five grand to look for magic keys? Did they have any beans for sale? A golden goose, maybe?"

N -"The money's real," she said stiffly.

M-"And what if you don't deliver? What's the penalty?"

N -"We lose a year."

M -"You're, what, indentured to them for a year?"

R -"A year gets taken away from us." looking at her watch again.

M -"What year?" She gave him a blank look.

R -"Well, I… The last year, I guess. When we're old."

M -"Or this year," he said and pushed to his feet. "Or next. Or ten years back, if we're being weird, which we sure as hell are."

R -"No, that can't be." Pale now, she shook her head. "It can't be from before. That would change everything. What if it's the year I had Sahil, or the year I got pregnant? That can't be."

M -"No, it can't, because none of this can be." He shook his head and looked down at his sister. "Where's your head, Gunji? Didn't it occur to you that when you don't come up with the goods these people might hurt you? Nobody dumps that kind of money on strangers. Which means you're not strangers to them. For whatever reason, they know you. They've looked into you."

G -"You weren't there, Eccentric is definitely apt in their case. Psychotic isn't."

N -"Besides, there's no motive for them to hurt us."

He spun back to Nupur. No, he wasn't affable now, she realized, but annoyed. And working his way rapidly to irate.

M -"And there is one for them to dump big gobs of money on you?"

R -"I've got to go." her voice shook as she grabbed her bag. "I have to get to Sahil. My son." She streaked out, and Gunjan leaped to her feet.

G -"Nice job, Mayank. Very nice job scaring the single mother witless." She bolted after Ridz, hoping to calm her. He jammed his hands in his pockets, stared hard at Nupur. M -"You scared?"

N -"No, but I don't have a nine-year-old boy to worry about. And I don't believe Pitte or Rowena wants to hurt us. Besides, I can take care of myself."

M -"Why do women always say that after they've gotten themselves in a really big jam?"

N -"Because men usually come along and make things worse. I'm going to look for the key, as I agreed to do. We all are. So would you." She had him there. He jingled the change in his pocket, considered. Cooled off.

M -"What did they tell you would happen if you found the keys?"

N -"The souls would be unlocked. And we'd each get a million dollars. And yes, I know how ridiculous that sounds. You had to be there."

M -"When you add that these three goddesses are currently sleeping in crystal beds in a castle behind the Curtain of Dreams, I guess you did have to be there."

N-"They have a painting of the Daughters of Glass. They look like us. It's a brilliant painting. I know art, Sharma, and this is no paint-by-numbers deal. It's a goddamn masterpiece. It has to mean something." His face sharpened with interest.

M -"Who painted it?"

N -"It wasn't signed, not that I could see."

M - "Then how do you know it's a masterpiece?"

N -"Because I know . It's what I do. Whoever painted it has an amazing talent, and a great love and respect for the subject matter. That sort of thing shows. And if they'd wanted to hurt us, why didn't they do something last night, when we were all there? Gunjan was there, alone with them, before I arrived. Why not bash her over the head and chain her in the dungeon, then do the same with me, with Ridz. Or drug

the wine? I've already thought about all that, already asked myself all the questions. And I'll tell you why. Because they believe everything they told us."

M -"And this eases your mind? Okay, who are they? Where do they come from? How did they get here? Why did they come here? This isn't exactly Mystic Central."

G- "Why don't you find out instead of scaring people?" she demanded as she returned.

N -"Is Ridz okay?"

G -"Sure, she's just great now that she has visions of somebody using her kid as a human sacrifice." She punched Mayank in the shoulder.

M -"Hey, if you didn't want somebody to point out the flaws in the plan, you shouldn't have had your party at my place. So, tell me everything you know about this Rowena and Pitte." He took more notes, managing to hold back any scathing comments on the lack of information. "Anybody still got the invitation?"

He took the one Nupur pulled out of her bag. "I'll see what I can find out."

N - "Did your nanny's story say anything about where the keys were hidden?"

M -"No, just that they couldn't be turned by the hand of the gods. Which leaves a pretty open field."

Mayank waited until Nupur left, then crooked a finger so Gunjan would follow him into the kitchen. As rooms went it was a sad statement, with its ancient coppertone appliances, white-with-gold-speckled counter-tops and fake-brick linoleum floor.

G -"When are you going to do something about this room? It's awful."

M -"All in good time, my pretty, all in good time. Now, tell me what you know about the very sexy Nupur Bhushan of the big eyes." Asked as he took out a beer for both of them.

G -"I just met her last night."

M -"Uh-uh. Women know stuff about women. Like telepathically. The more a

woman likes or dislikes another woman, the more she knows. There have been several scientific studies to verify this phenomenon. Give, or no beer for you."

She hadn't particularly wanted the beer, until he'd used it as a hammer.

G -"Why do you want to know about her specifically? Why not Ridz?"

M -"My interest in Ridz is more academic. I can hardly start the wild and passionate affair I have in mind with Nupur until I know all her secrets and desires."

G -"You're going to make me sick, Mayank." He merely tipped up his beer, took a long, slow sip, while holding hers out of reach. "I'm not your silly dog who'll beg for cookies. I'm only going to tell you so I can sit back and laugh derisively when she blows you off. I do like her," she added and held out a hand for the beer.

"She strikes me as smart, ambitious, open-minded without being naive. She worked at The Gallery, just got canned over a dispute with the owner's new trophy wife. Since Nupur called the new wife a bimbo, to her face, I'd say she doesn't always rate high on the tact and diplomacy scale, but calls 'em like she sees 'em. She likes good clothes and knows how to wear them—spends too much on them, which is why she was broke before this morning's windfall. She's not currently in a relationship and would like to own her own business."

M -"You really buried the lead. So, she's not dating anyone. And she's gutsy.

Not only does she tell off the boss's wife, but she drives alone, at night, to a spooky house."

G -"So did I."

M -"I can't have a mad, passionate affair with you, sweetie. It would just be wrong."

G -"Now, there, you have made me sick." But she smiled when he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

M -"Why don't you move in here for a couple weeks?" Her dark chocolate eyes went baleful.

G -"Stop looking out for me, Mayank."

M -"Can't do it."

G -"If I wouldn't move in when I was broke, why would I now that I'm flush? You know I like my own space, and you do too. Such as it is. And the goblins of Warrior's Peak are not going to come down and spirit me away in the night."

M -"If they were goblins, they wouldn't worry me." But because he knew her, so he eased off. "How about telling your new pal Nupur what an amazing man I am. All brainy and sensitive and buff."

G -"You want me to lie to her?"

M -"You're mean, Gunjan. You're just mean."

When he was alone, Mayank settled down in his upstairs study. He booted up his computer, stepped over Moe, who had already flopped in the middle of the floor.

Then he sat, rolled his head as a boxer might before a round, and got down to some serious surfing. If there was anything in the cyberworld about the new residents of Warrior's Peak, he would find it. As always, he got sucked into the sirens' song of information. One hour passed into two, two headed toward three, before Moe solved the matter by giving the desk chair a push that shot it and Mayank halfway across the room.

M -"Damn it, you know I hate that. I just need a few more minutes." But Moe had heard that one before, and he protested by plopping massive paws and a great deal of body weight onto Mayank's thighs.

M-"So, maybe we'll take a walk. And if we happen to wander by a certain pretty girl's door, we could just stop in and share currently gathered information. And if that doesn't work, we'll pick up some pizza so it won't be a complete loss."

The word "pizza" had Moe tearing to the doorway. By the time Mayank made it downstairs, the dog was by the front door, his leash clamped between his teeth.

It was a nice evening for a walk. Quiet, balmy, with his little postcard town basking under the late-summer sun. At such moments, when the air was soft, the breeze fragrant, he was glad he'd made the decision to take over the Dispatch from his mother rather than heading out to make his mark at some big-city paper. A lot of his friends had gone to the city, and the woman he'd thought he loved had chosen New York over him. Or he'd chosen the Valley over her. It depended, he supposed, on your point of view. Maybe the news here didn't have the scope or the edge of the news in Philly or New York, but there was still plenty of it. And what happened in the Valley, in the hills and mountains that surrounded it, mattered. And just now he scented a story that would be bigger and juicier than anything the Dispatch had reported in the sixty-eight years since its presses began to run. If he could help three women, one of whom was a sister he loved very much, flirt with an incredibly attractive girl ,and expose a major con…well, that would be a hell of a hat trick.

M- "You have to be charming," he told Moe as they approached the trim brick building that he'd watched Nupur enter that morning. "You act like a dog, we'll never get through the door." As a precaution, Mayank wrapped the leash twice around his fist before going into the twelve-unit building. He considered it good luck that N.Bhushan was on the ground floor. Not only would he not have to drag Moe up steps or pull him into an elevator, but the building's ground level had little patios. That gave him the option of bribing Moe with the cookie he'd stuffed in his pocket and staking him outside.

M -"Charming," he said again, sotto voce, giving Moe a narrow stare before he knocked on Nupur's door. Her greeting, when she answered, wasn't what he could call flattering. She took one look at him and Moe.

N -"Oh, my God. You've got to be kidding."

M -"I can put him outside," he said quickly. "But we really need to talk."

N -"He'll dig up my flowers."

M -"He doesn't dig." Please God, don't dig. "I've got a—I can't say the C word, or he'll get excited. But I've got one in my pocket. I'll just put him out there, out of the way."

N -"I don't—" Moe's nose arrowed straight into her crotch. In defense she skipped back, which was all the invitation Moe required. He was through the door, dragging Mayank merrily over an antique Turkish carpet, barely missing slapping his lethal tail into a Deco vase filled with late-summer lilies. Terrified, Nupur made a dash for her patio door, yanked it open.

N -"Out, out, straight out." It was a word Moe knew. And he objected to going out when he'd just come in to so many fascinating scents. He simply dropped his wide butt on the floor and dug in. With dignity no longer an option, Mayank hooked both hands in Moe's collar and dragged him bodily across the room and out the door.

M -"Oh, yeah, that was charming." Out of breath, he looped the leash around the trunk of a tree. And as Moe began to howl, he dropped to his knees. "Stop it. Have you no pride? Have you no sense of masculine solidarity? How am I going to get my hands on that woman if she hates us?" He pushed his face into Moe's. "Lie down and be quiet. Do this for me, and the world is yours. Starting with this." He pulled out the cookie. The howling stopped instantly, and the tail began to thump. "Screw this up and next time I leave you home." He stood up and sent what he hoped was an easy smile toward Nupur, who stood warily on the other side of the door. He figured it was a major victory when she opened it and let him in.

N - "Have you tried obedience school?" she demanded.

M -"Ah, well, yeah, but there was an incident. We don't like to talk about it. This is a great place." Stylish, arty, and female, he decided. Not delicate-little-trinket female but bold-unique-fascinating female. The walls were a deep, rich rose, a strong background for the paintings. She favored antiques, or reproductions that looked enough like the real thing to pass. Soft fabrics and sleek sculpture. And everything tidy as a shiny new pin. It smelled female, classily so, from the lilies and the dried flower petals that women were forever putting in bowls. And, he supposed, from the woman herself. She had music on low. What was that…Annie Lennox, crooning slyly about sweet dreams. It seemed to him that the entire place spoke of very specific, very high-toned taste. He wandered over to a painting of a woman rising up out of a dark blue pool. There was a sense of speed about it, of sexuality, and of power.

M - "She's beautiful. Does she live in the sea or on the land?" Nupur arched her brow. At least he'd asked an intelligent question.

N -"I think she has yet to choose." She pondered him as he wandered around. He seemed more… well, male, she supposed, here in her place than he had on the sidewalk or stalking around the largely unfurnished room in his own house.

N -"What are you doing here?"

M -"First, I came because I wanted to see you again."

N -"Why?"

M -"You're really pretty." Because he found it both relaxing and entertaining to look at her, he hooked his thumbs in his front pockets and did just that. "You might think that's a shallow reason, but I like to think it's simply basic. If people didn't like looking at attractive things, we wouldn't have any art."

N -"How long did it take you to think of that one?" His grin was fast and appreciative as he flashed his dimples.

M -"Not long at all. I'm pretty quick. Have you had dinner?"

N -"No, but I have plans. Why else are you here?"

M -"Let's do this part first. You haven't had dinner tomorrow night yet. Would you like to have dinner with me?"

N -"I don't think that's a good idea."

M -"Because you're annoyed with me? Or because you're not interested?"

N -"You're pretty annoying."

M -"Not once you get to know me. Ask anybody." No, she had a feeling he wouldn't stay annoying. He'd be entertaining and interesting. And trouble. Plus, however attractive he was, he was anything but her type.

N -"I've got enough on my plate without dating a man who has terrible taste in furniture and questionable taste in pets." She glanced toward the patio as she said it, then couldn't stop the laugh as she saw Moe's ugly face pressed hopefully against the glass.

M -"You don't really hate dogs."

N -"Of course I don't hate dogs. I like dogs." She angled her head to study the furry face. "I don't think that is a dog."

M -"They swore he was when I got him from the pound." Her eyes went soft.

N -"You got him from the pound." Aha, a chink in the defensive wall. He stepped over so they could study Moe together.

M -"He was a lot smaller then. I went in to do a story on the shelter, and he sort of came, well, gamboling up to me, looked at me like he was saying, Okay, I've been waiting for you to show. Let's go home. I was a goner."

N -"What's does 'Moe' stand for? 'Mountain'?"

M -"He looks like Moe. You know, Moe Howard." When her face stayed blank, Mayank sighed. "Women, they don't know what they're missing when it comes to the courageous comedy and wit of The Three Stooges."

N -"Yes, yes, we do know what we're missing. We miss it on purpose." Realizing they were standing close, she took a deliberate step back. "Was there something else?"

M -"I started running down these people you guys are tangled up with. Liam Pitte, Rowena O'Meara. At least those are the names they're using."

N -"Why shouldn't those be their names?"

M -"Because when I used my incredible skills and talents, I found no record of anyone under those names that jibes with the new owners of Warrior's Peak. No social security numbers, no passport numbers, no driver's licenses, business licenses. No corporate paper trail for this Triad. At least none that connects to them."

N -"They're not American," she began, then blew out a breath. "Okay, no passport numbers. Maybe you didn't find it yet, or maybe they've used different names to buy the house."

M -"Maybe. It'll be interesting to find out, because right now it's looking like they popped out of thin air."

N -"I'd like to know more about the Daughters of Glass. The more I know about them, the better chance I have of finding the key."

M-"I'll call my nanny, get more details of the legend. I can fill you in over dinner tomorrow." She considered him, then looked back toward the dog. He was willing to help, and she only had four weeks. On a personal front, she would keep it simple. Friendly, but simple. At least until she'd decided what to do about him.

N -"Would that be a table for two or for three?"

M -"Two."

N -"All right. You can pick me up at seven."

M -"Great."

N -"And you can go out that way." She pointed toward the patio door.

M -"No problem." He walked to the door, glanced back. "You really are pretty," he said, then eased the door open just enough to squeeze out. She watched him unhook the dog, watched him stagger under the weight when Moe leaped up to lavishly kiss his face. She waited until they'd trotted off before she chuckled.

Chapter Five

Nupur found Ridz's little house easily enough. It was a tiny box on a narrow stamp of lawn. But it had been painted a cheerful yellow with bright white trim. A colorful patch of flowers bloomed vigorously along either side of the door. Even if Nupur hadn't been sure of the address, hadn't recognized Ridz's car parked at the curb, she'd have known the house by the boy in the yard, tossing a ball high in the air, then racing to catch it. He looked almost eerily like his mother. The dark hair, the long-lidded eyes in a pixie face. He had a slight build clad in ripped jeans and a Pirates T-shirt. When he spotted Nupur, he stood, legs apart, flipping the ball lightly into the pocket of his glove. He had the cautious and somewhat arrogant stance of a boy who'd had "don't talk to strangers" drummed into his head, and thought he was old enough, smart enough, to handle himself with one anyway.

N -"You must be Sahil. I'm Nupur Bhushan, a friend of your mother's." She kept a smile on her face as the boy sized her up—and she wished she knew more about baseball than that it involved a number of men throwing, hitting, and trying to catch a ball and running around a field.

S -"She's in the house. I can get her." His way of doing so was to trot toward the door and shout, "Mom! There's a lady out here to see you!" Moments later, Ridz opened the screen door, stood there wiping her hands on a dish towel. Somehow, despite the baggy shorts, old shirt, and bare feet, she still managed to look exotic. She lifted a hand to fiddle with one of the buttons of her shirt.

R -"Oh. Nupur. I wasn't expecting…"

N-"If this is a bad time—"

R -"No, no, of course not. Sahil, this is Miss Bhushan. One of the ladies I'm going to be working with for a while."

S-"Okay. Hi. Can I go over to Scott's now? I finished mowing the lawn."

R-"Looks great. Do you want a snack first?"

S-"Nuh-uh." At her arch look, he grinned, showing a missing tooth and sudden, dazzling charm. "I mean, no thanks."

R -"Go ahead, then. Have a good time."

S -"Yes!" He started to race off, then skidded to a halt when she spoke his name in a tone that Nupur assumed mothers developed through hormonal changes during gestation. He rolled his eyes, but made sure his back was to Ridz as he did. Then he gave Nupur a quick and easy smile. "Nice to meet you, and all."

N -"Nice to meet you, and all too, Sahil." He dashed off, like an inmate escaping the prison walls. "He's gorgeous." At Nupur's statement, Ridz's face lit up with pride and pleasure.

R -"He really is, isn't he? Sometimes I'll sneak to the window while he's out in the yard and just look at him. He's my whole world."

N -"I could see that. And now you're worried that what we've done could hurt him somehow."

R -"Worrying about Sahil is part of my job description. Listen, I'm sorry, come in. I used to spend Saturdays at the salon, so I thought I'd take advantage of having this one off and dig in around here."

N -"You've got a very pretty house." As she stepped inside the door & looked around.

R -"Thanks." looking around as well, grateful that she'd finished buffing up the living room. The pillows were plumped on the bright and cheery blue slipcovers of the sofa, and the old coffee table she'd antiqued was free of dust and held a trio of bottles filled with late-summer daisies snipped from her own little flower bed. The rug her grandmother had hooked when Ridz herself was a child was freshly vacuumed.

"I like to, you know, put things together. Find stuff at yard sales or flea markets and haul it home, fix it up. It makes it yours that way, plus it doesn't cost a lot of money. Ah, would you like something to drink?"

N -"I would, if I'm not holding you up."

R -"No. I don't think I've had a Saturday off in….Ever, It's nice to be home, and to have company." Nupur had a feeling that she was about to be invited to sit down while Ridz went back to the kitchen. To avoid that, she walked over and angled herself toward the doorway. With no choice, Ridz led the way into the kitchen.

R -"I don't have any soft drinks. Sorry, I can't keep them around with Sahil. I've got some lemonade."

N -"That's great." She'd obviously caught Ridz in the midst of a major kitchen cleaning, but still the room exuded the same casual charm as the living area. "I love this." She trailed a finger over the mint-green paint of a cupboard. "It really shows what someone can do with imagination, taste, and time."

R -"Wow. That's quite a compliment coming from somebody like you. I mean, somebody who knows art. I wanted to have pretty things but still make a place where Sahil could run around like a boy. And it's just the right size for us. I don't care about the million dollars. Boy, does that sound stupid. Of course I care about the million dollars. What I mean is I don't need a million. I just want enough so we're secure. I only got into this because it seemed so interesting, and because the twenty-five thousand was like a miracle." Taking a squat glass pitcher out of the refrigerator. She set her company glasses on the counter, shook her head.

N -"And because that night, up at Warrior's Peak, was so compelling, so dramatic? Like we were all the stars of our own movie."

R -"Yes. I got caught up in the idea of it all, but I never considered, not for a minute, that we'd be taking any kind of risk." Letting out a laugh as she poured.

N -"I don't know that we are. I'm not going to worry about that until we know more. But I don't have a child to consider. I wanted to come by and say that if you want to back out, I understand."

R -"I've been thinking about it. One of the advantages of serious cleaning is it's good thinking time. Do you want to take these out in the back? I've got some chairs out there. It's kind of a nice spot."

They walked out, and it was a nice spot—that tidy little yard, the two Adirondack chairs painted the same sunny yellow as the house, and a big, shady maple tree. Once they were seated, Ridz took a deep breath.

R -"If Pitte and Rowena are some kind of lunatics who've targeted us for some reason, there's no backing out. It won't matter. And if they are, doing whatever we can to find the keys makes the most sense. If they're not, then we should keep our word."

N -"It sounds like we're on the same track. I'm toying with going back up there to talk to them again, get another impression. In a day or two, after we— I hope—find out a little more. I know Gunji will be zeroing in on the books, and Mayank's already heating up the Internet. If he finds anything, he'll tell me at dinner tonight."

R -"Dinner? You're going out with Mayank?"

N -"Apparently. Five minutes after he left my apartment I was wondering how he talked me into it."

R -"He's awfully cute."

N-"Any guy would look cute beside that big, ugly dog."

R -"And he was flirting with you. Big time."

N -"That I got. Flirting isn't on the agenda for the next few weeks if I'm going to focus on finding the first key."

R -"Flirting with a cute guy's a nice side benefit." she sighed, sat back and wiggled toes that she'd painted poppy pink. "Or at least I seem to recall it was, from the dim, dark past."

N -"Are you kidding? Men must hit on you all the time." Surprised, she looked back at Ridz's sexy faerie face.

R -"The initial sortie usually stops dead when they find out I've got a kid. And I'm not interested in the lets-keep-it-casual deal. I've been there." She shrugged.

N - "Right now, I'm not interested in the let's-keep-it-casual-and-make-it-serious deal. I have to figure out what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. My current windfall isn't going to last forever, but it does give me time to decide if I really want my own business, and how to go about it if I do."

R -"That's something else I was thinking about today. I'm going to have to get back to work. But the thought of starting a new job, with new people, out at the mall…" Ridz puffed out her cheeks and blew a hard breath. "And the last thing I want is to try to run a salon out of the house. Nobody takes you seriously when you do that. They start thinking hair's your hobby instead of your job. Plus, where you live isn't home anymore, and I'm not taking that away from Sahil the way it was taken away from me."

N -"Your mother did hair out of your house?"

R -"Trailer. She did the best she could, considering we lived a couple miles outside Nowhere, West Virginia. My daddy took off when I was twelve, and I was the oldest of four."

N -"That's rough. I'm sorry."

R -"Rough on all of us, but like I said, she did the best she could. I'm just hoping to do better."

N -"I'd say making a pretty house and home for you and your son means you're doing absolutely fine." Color washed into her face.

R -"Thanks. Anyway, I thought I'd start scouting around, see if I could find a

place for rent that I could outfit for a salon."

N -"If you find one, see if you can find a nice storefront for me and my artworks shop." With a laugh, Nupur set her glass aside. "Or maybe we should just combine the two and go into business together. Art and beauty, one-stop shopping. I've got to go." She rose. "I'm going to swing by and see Gunji, then go home and see if I get a brainstorm over that stupid clue. You want to plan for the three of as to get together one day early next week? A powwow."

R -"Fine with me, as long as we can work around Sahil's schedule."

N -"We can do that. I'll call you." She didn't know if it qualified as a brainstorm, but it was at least a direction. Nupur studied the clue line by line, searching for metaphors and hidden meanings, double entendres, loose connections. Then she stepped back again to look at it as a whole. There were mentions of the goddess. And the keys themselves were reputed to unlock imprisoned souls. Put all that together, she decided, and you had a sort of religious reference. With that in mind, she spent the rest of the day going through every church and temple in the Valley. She came home empty-handed, but she felt she'd done something positive with her day. She dressed for dinner, keeping it simple with a sleeveless black top and black cropped pants, topped with a tailored jacket the color of strawberries. At exactly seven, she was sliding into heeled sandals and preparing to wait. In her experience she was the only one who habitually made it a point to be on time. So it was a surprise, a pleasant one, to hear the knock on her door even as she was checking the contents of her purse.

N -"You're prompt," she said to Mayank when she opened the door.

M-"Actually, I was here ten minutes ago, but I didn't want to seem anxious. You look amazing." He handed her a small bouquet of baby roses, nearly the same color as her jacket.

N -"Thanks. I'll put these in water. Very nice touch, by the way " She eyed him as she sniffed the rosebuds. He was cute, she thought. Dog or no dog.

M -"I thought so. Moe wanted to go for candy, but I held out for flowers." She stopped.

N -"He's not out there, is he?"

M -"No, no, he's home, making do with the Bugs Bunny marathon on the Cartoon Network. Moe's nuts about Bugs."

N -"I bet. Do you want a drink before we go?"

M -"Depends. Can you walk in those shoes or would you rather drive it?"

N -"I can walk three miles in heels. I'm a professional female."

M - "Can't argue with that. And because I can't, I'd like to do what I've been thinking about doing since I landed on top of you."

He moved in. That's what Nupur would think later, when her brain started to function normally again. He simply moved into her, ran his hands up the sides of her body, over her shoulders, along her throat, then cupped her face in them. It was all very slow, all very smooth. Then his mouth was on hers, taking its own sweet time. Somehow

she was backed against the counter, pressed snugly between it and his body. Somehow her hands were gripping his hips, her fingers digging in. And somehow she was sliding into the kiss without a single murmur of protest. His fingers threaded back into her hair, and he nipped, not so playfully, at her bottom lip. When her breath caught, the tone of the kiss changed from flirty warmth to flashing heat.

N -"Whoa. Wait." She managed to catch the fading echo of warning bells ringing in her head, but her body stayed plastered against his.

M -"Okay. In a minute." He needed another minute of her, of the taste of her, and the feel of her. There was more here than he'd expected, and he'd expected quite a punch. There was something erotically sharp about the flavor of her, as if her mouth was a rare delicacy that he'd only just been allowed to sample. And something so soft about her texture, all those clouds of gilded hair, all those lovely curves and dips. He gave her lips one last rub with his, then eased back. She stared at him, those big eyes he'd decided were irresistible, now wide and wary.

N -"Maybe…" She hoped the long, slow breath would level her voice again. "Maybe we should just start walking now."

M -"Sure. I figured if I kissed you now, I wouldn't be thinking about it all during dinner and lose track of the conversation."He offered a hand, and found himself flattered when she not only evaded it, but skirted around him to get her purse.

He went to the door, opened it for her.

M -"The trouble is, now that I have kissed you, I'm probably going to be thinking about kissing you again all during dinner and lose track of the conversation. So if you notice that my mind wanders, you'll know where and why."

N -"You think I don't know why you just said that. By saying that, you'll plant the seed in my head so I'll be thinking about you kissing me all through dinner. Or that's the plan."

M -"Damn, you're good. If you're quick enough to unravel the dastardly plots of men regarding dating, the puzzle of the key ought to be child's play to you."

N -"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But the simple fact is I've had more experience with the dastardly plots of men regarding dating than I have with puzzles regarding goddesses and mythological spells."

M -"I don't know why"—he caught her hand in his, grinned at the sidelong look she sent him—"but I find that very exciting. If I ply you with wine at dinner, will you tell me about those experiences? There may be some plots I've missed along the way."

N -"You're going to buy me a martini, then we'll see." He'd chosen one of the town's prettiest restaurants and had arranged for a table on the back terrace with a view of the mountains. By the time she was sipping her martini, she was relaxed again.

N -"I'd like to discuss the key. If I find your attention wandering, I'll kick you under the table."

M -"So noted. I'd just like to say one thing first."

N -"Go ahead." He leaned toward her, breathed deep.

M - "You smell terrific." She leaned toward him.

N -"I know. Now, would you like to know what I did today?" She waited a beat,

then kicked him lightly on the ankle.

M -"What? Yes. Sorry." She lifted her glass for another sip to hide her amusement.

N -"First I went to see Ridz." She relayed the gist of their conversation, pausing when the first course was served.

M-"The little yellow house.Used to be dog-shit brown. She's really fixed it up. I've seen the kid in the yard, now that I think about it. Sahil. He looks just like her. It's almost spooky. Now that you mention it, I would've put that together when I met her if I'd been able to take my eyes off you for two minutes." Her lips twitched, and damn it, she was flattered.

N -"You've very good at that—both timing and delivery."

M -"Yeah, it's a gift."

N -"Then I went to see Gunji at her apartment. She was buried in books and brooding."

M -"Two of her best things."

N -"She hasn't been able to track down a version of the

Daughters of Glass story yet, but she's working on it. Then I got this idea. Goddesses equal worship. All the reading I've been doing indicates that a lot of churches were built on pagan worship sites. Most Christian holy days coincide with the early pagan holy days, which were based on seasons, agriculture, that sort of thing. So I went to church. In fact I went to every church and temple in a twenty-mile radius."

M -"That's an interesting connection. Good, clear thinking."

N -"That's one of my major skills. I kept going over and over the clue. Look within, look without, singing goddess, and so on. So I went looking. Didn't expect to walk in and see the key waiting for me on a pew. But I thought maybe I'd see the symbol of it, you know? Something worked into a stained-glass window or a molding. But I didn't."

M -"It was still a good idea."

N -"A better one might be to go back to that house and talk to Rowena and Pitte again."

M -"Maybe. Want to know what I found out? I talked to my nanny."

N -"Your in touch with your nanny?" asked baffled by this.

M- "She came to become very close to my mom and me and she doesn't have much family of her own."

N – "Oh..Ok" baffled further..she wasn't used to dating very many nice guys

M - "Anyway talked to her about the story. There were some details I didn't remember clearly. First, there was dissension in the ranks over the god-king making a mortal his queen. It was okay to fool around with mortals, but he brought her behind the Curtain of Power—or the Curtain of Dreams. It's called both. And he took her as his wife. Because of this, some of the gods set themselves apart from the young king and his mortal wife, established their own rule."

N -"Politics."

M -"Can't get away from it. Naturally, this didn't sit too well with the king. There are other stories, full of war and intrigue and heroics, and that brings us to the daughters. Beloved by their parents, and by those loyal to the king and his wife. Each had beauty, as you'd expect, and each had power—a talent. One was an artist, one a bard, and one a warrior. Devoted to each other, they grew up in the kingdom, taught by a young goddess of magic, guarded by the king's most trusted warrior god. Either the teacher or the guard was to be with them at all times, to keep them safe from the plots surrounding them."

N -"In the painting there were two figures, a man and a woman, in the background. They seemed to be in an embrace."

M- "That fits with what's coming. The king's advisers were campaigning to have the daughters marry three gods of rank from the opposing faction. To unite the kingdom again. But the self-proclaimed king of the opposing faction didn't like the idea of giving up his throne. Power had corrupted him, and his thirst for more, for complete dominance of this, let's say, netherworld, and the mortal one, consumed him. He wanted to kill the daughters, but he knew that if he did, all but his most devoted followers would turn against him. So he devised a plot, and the two who

were closest to the daughters aided him, by falling in love."

N -"They betrayed the daughters?"

M -"Not purposely. By distraction. By looking at each other rather than looking after their charges. And as the daughters were young women, fond of their keepers, they made it easy for the lovers to slip away from time to time. And one day when they were unprotected, the spell was cast."

N - "Their souls were stolen."

M -"It's more than that. Dessert?"

N -"No, just coffee. Tell me the rest."

M -"Two coffees, a crme brulee, and two spoons. You'll never hold out against the crme brulee. The bad king's a clever guy, and a sorcerer. He doesn't take heat for slaying innocents, and he turns the good king's choices and policy against him. If a mortal is fit to be queen, if three half-mortals are worthy of rank, then let the mortals prove it. Only mortals can break the spell. Until that's done, the daughters will sleep—unharmed. If mortal women, one to represent each daughter, can find each of the three keys, then the Box of Souls will be unlocked, the daughters' souls restored, and the kingdoms united."

N -"And if they fail?"

M -"The most popular version, according to nanna, has the bad king setting a time limit. Three thousand years—one millennium for each daughter. If the keys aren't found and the box unlocked within that time, he alone rules, both the god-world and the mortal."

N -"I never understand why anyone wants to rule the world. Seems like one big headache to me." She pursed her lips when the dish of crme brulee was set between them. mayank was right, she decided. She wasn't going to be able to hold out against it.

N -"What happened to the lovers?"

M -"A couple of versions of that, too." He dipped his spoon in at one end of the dish while Nupur dipped into the other. "Nanna's pick is the one that has the grieving king sentencing the lovers to death, but his wife intervened, asking for mercy. Instead of execution, banishment. They were cast out through the Curtain of Dreams, forbidden to return until they found the three mortal women who would unlock the box of souls. And so they wander the earth, gods living as mortals, in search of the triad who will release not only the souls of the daughters but their own as well."

N-"Rowena and Pitte think they're the teacher and the warrior?" It pleased him that their conclusions meshed.

M -"That would be my take. You've got a couple of weirdos on your hands, Nups. It's a nice faerie tale. Romantic, colorful. But when people start casting themselves and others in the roles, you're edging into psychoville."

N-"You're forgetting the money."

M -"No, I'm not. The money worries me. Seventy-five thousand means it's not a game to them, not a little role-playing entertainment. They're serious. Either they actually believe the myth or they're seeding the ground for a con."

N - "With the twenty-five thousand, I now have approximately twenty-five thousand, two hundred and five dollars, which includes the twenty I found in a jacket pocket this morning. My parents are fairly average middle-class people. They're not rich or influential. I don't have any rich or influential friends or boyfriends. I've got nothing worth conning."

M -"Maybe they're looking for something else, something you haven't thought of. But back to those boyfriends for a minute. Do you have any poor ones?"

She sipped her coffee, measuring him over the rim. The sun had set while they'd had dinner. Now it was candlelight that flickered between them.

N -"Not at the moment."

M -"Here's a coincidence. Neither do I."

N -"I'm in the market for a key, Mayank, not a boyfriend."

M-"You're assuming the key exists."

N -"Yes, I am. If I didn't assume that, I wouldn't bother to look for it. And I gave my word I would."

M -"I'll help you find it."

N - "Why?"

M -"A lot of reasons. One, I'm just a naturally curious guy, and however this thing works out, it's an interesting story." He skimmed a fingertip over the back of her hand, and the little thrill danced straight up her arm. "Two, my sister's involved. Three, I'll get to be around you. The way I figure it, you won't be able to hold out against me any more than you could hold out against the crme brulee."

N -"Is that confidence or conceit?"

M -"Just fate, sweetie. Look, why don't we go back to my place and… Well, hell, I wasn't thinking about kissing you again until you gave me that snotty look. Now I've lost my train of thought."

N -"I'm not having any trouble following that train."

M -"Okay, that wasn't my track, but I'm willing to jump on board. What I was going to say was we could go back and do some research. I can show you what I've got so far, which is basically nothing. I can't dig up any data on your benefactors, at least not under the names they used to buy the Peak, or any variations of those names."

N -"I'll leave the research to you and Gunji for now. I've got some other trails to follow."

M -"Such as?"

N -"Logic. Goddesses. There are a couple of New Age shops in the area. I'm going to check them out. Then there's the painting. I'm going to find out who painted that portrait, see what else he or she has done, and where those paintings might be. Who owns them, how they acquired them. I need to take another trip up to Warrior's Peak, have another talk with Pitte and Rowena, and get another look at that painting. A better look."

M -"I'll go with you. There's a story here, Nups. This could be a huge scam, which would make it big news and my duty to report it." She stiffened up.

N -"You don't have any proof that Rowena and Pitte aren't legitimate—possibly loony, yes, but not crooks."

M -"Easy. I'm not writing anything until I have all the facts. I can't get all the

facts until I meet all the players. I need an entree to that house. You're it. In exchange you get the benefit of my keen investigative skills and dogged reporter's determination. I go with you, or I talk Gunji into taking me up there."

She tapped a finger on the table while she considered her options.

N -"They might not talk to you. In fact, they may not like it that we've brought you into this, even on a peripheral level."

M -"Leave that part to me. Getting into places where I'm not wanted is part of my job description."

N -"Is that how you got into my apartment last night?"

M -"Ouch. Why don't we run up there tomorrow morning? I can pick you up at ten."

N -"All right." What harm could it do to have him along? "There's no need to walk me all the way to the door," Nupur said as they approached her apartment building.

M -"Sure there is. I'm just an old-fashioned guy."

N -"No, you're not." She muttered it as she opened her purse for her key. "I'm not asking you in."

M -"Okay." She slanted him a look as they stepped up to the door.

N -"You say that like you're an affable, easygoing man. You're not that, either. It's a ploy."He grinned, damn that smile.

M – "It is?"

N -"Yes. You're stubborn and pushy and more than a little arrogant. You get away with it because you put on that big, charming smile and that I-wouldn't-hurt-a-fly demeanor. But they're just tools to help you get what you want."

M -"God, you see right through me." Watching her, he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "Now I either have to kill you or marry you."

N - "And being appealing on some screwy level doesn't make you less annoying. Therein lies the flaw." At those words he caught her face in his hands and crushed his lips enthusiastically to hers. The heat shot straight up from her belly and seemed to burst out the top of her head.

N -"Neither does that," she managed. She shoved her key in the lock, pushed the door open. Then shut it in his face. Half a beat later, she yanked it open. "Thanks for dinner." He rocked gently on his heels when the door shut in his face a second time. When he strolled away, he was whistling, and thinking Nupur Bhushan was the kind of woman who made a man's life really interesting.

Hey bothe the parts were fab

wow gr8 part dear
thanks for pm

Chapter Six

Gunjan gulped down her first cup of coffee while standing in her tiny kitchen, eyes closed, brain dead. She drained it, hot, black, and strong, before letting out a soft whimper of relief. She downed half the second cup on the way to the shower.By the time she was done, her circuits were up and running, and she was too awake to sulk about being awake. With a toasted bagel and her third cup of coffee, she settled down with her current breakfast book. She'd turned only the second page when the knock on her door interrupted her most sacred of rituals.

G -"Damn it." She marked her place. Her annoyance faded, a little, when she opened the door to Nupur. "Aren't you the bright-and-early girl?"

N- "Sorry. You said you were working this morning, so I thought you'd be up and around by now."

G -"Up, anyway." She studied the minute green checks of the soft cotton shirt that precisely matched the color of Nupur's pleated trousers. Just as the dove-gray slides she wore exactly matched the tone and texture of her shoulder bag.

G - "Do you always dress like that?"

N -"Like what?"

G -"Perfect." With a little laugh, Nupur looked down at herself.

N -"I'm afraid so. It's a compulsion."

G -"Looks good on you, too. I'll probably end up hating you for it. Come on in anyway." The room was a compact, informal library. Books stood or were stacked on the shelves that ran along two walls from floor to ceiling, sat on the tables like knick-knacks, trooped around the room like soldiers. The short leg of the L-shaped room boasted still more books, as well as a small table that held the remains of Gunjan's breakfast. With her hands on her hips, Gunjan watched Nupur's perusal of her space. She'd seen the reaction before.

G -"No, I haven't read them all, but I will. And no, I don't know how many I have. Want coffee?"

N -"Let me just ask this. Do you ever actually use the services of the library?"

G -"Sure, but I need to own them. If I don't have twenty or thirty books right here, waiting to be read, I start jones-ing. That's my compulsion."

N - "Okay. I'll pass on the coffee, thanks. I already had a cup. Two, and I'm wired."

G -"Two, and I can just manage to form complete sentences. Bagel?"

N -"No, but go ahead. I wanted to catch you before you left for work. Fill you in."

G -"Fill away."

N -"I'm going back up to Warrior's Peak this morning. With Mayank."

G -"I figured he'd horn in. And hit on you." factually.

N -"Are either of those things a problem for you?"

G -"No. He's smarter than he comes across. That's one of the ways he gets people to spill their guts to him. If he hadn't horned in, I'd have baited him until he helped out. As for hitting on you, I had to figure he'd go for either you or Ridz. He really likes women, and they really like him." Nupur thought of the way he'd moved in on her in her kitchen, the way she'd gone pliant as putty when he had.

N -"There's a definite chemical reaction there, but I haven't decided if I like him or not."

G- "Might as well give in to it. He'll just wear you down, which is another thing

he's really good at. He's like a damn Border collie."

N -"Excuse me?"

G -"You know how they herd sheep?.How they keep heading them off, working them around until the sheep end up going where the collie wants them to go? That's Mayank. You'll think, nope, I want to go over here, and he's thinking, well, you'll be better off over there. So you end up over there before you realize you've been herded. And the hell of it is, when you find yourself there you almost always realize youare better off. He stays alive by never saying I told you so." She'd gone to dinner with him, hadn't she? Nupur considered. Kissed him—twice. Three times if she was going to be technical. And he was not only coming with her to Warrior's Peak, he was driving her. Huh.

N -"I don't like being maneuvered." Gunjan's expression was a combination of pity and amusement.

G- "Well, we'll see how it goes. What are you hoping for with Rowena and Pitte?"

N -"I don't expect to get much from them. It's the painting. The painting's important somehow, What it says, and who said it." She took a moment to explain the rest of the tale as Mayank had relayed it to her over dinner.

G -"So they're taking on the roles of the teacher and the guard."

N -"That's the theory, I'm interested in how they'll react when I broach it. And I can use Mayank to distract them long enough to give me time to get another look at the painting and take a couple of pictures of it. That could lead to other paintings with similar themes. It might be helpful."

G -"I'll do a search on mythological art this morning. I've got to go but, the three of us should get together on this as soon as we can."

N -"Let's see what we come up with today." They walked out together, and Nupur stopped on the sidewalk. "Gunji. Is it just crazy to do all this?"

It was a more pleasant, if less atmospheric, drive on a sunny morning. As a passenger, Nupur could indulge herself with the scenery and wonder what it was like to live high on a ridge where the sky seemed only a hand span away and the world was spread out like a painting below. A fitting view for gods, she supposed. Lofty and dramatic. She had no doubt Rowena and Pitte had chosen it for its power as much as for the privacy.

In another few weeks, when those elegantly rolling hills felt the chill of fall, the colors would stun the eye and catch the breath. Mists would hover in the morning, sliding into those folds and dips between the hills, And still the house would stand, black as midnight, with its fanciful lines etched against the sky. Guarding the valley. Or watching it. What did it see, she wondered, year after year across the decades? What did it know? The question brought on a shudder, a sudden sharp sense of dread.

M -"Cold?" She shook her head, and rolled down her window. All at once the car seemed hot and stuffy.

N-"No. I'm spooking myself, that's all."

M -"If you don't want to do this now—"

N -"I want to do it. I'm not afraid of a couple of rich eccentrics. In fact, I liked them. And I want to see the painting again. I can't stop thinking about it. Whatever direction my mind goes off in, I keep coming back to the painting. Would you want to live up here?" looking out of the window

M -"Nope." Intrigued, she looked back at him.

N -"That was fast."

M -"I'm a social animal. I like having people around. Moe might like it." He gazed into the rearview mirror to see Moe, nose jammed into the narrow window opening, floppy ears flying.

N -"I can't believe you brought the dog."

M -"He likes to ride in the car." She angled around, studied Moe's blissful expression.

N -"Obviously. Have you ever considered getting him clipped so his hair isn't in his eyes?"

M -"Don't say clipped. We're still not over the whole neutering deal."

He slowed as they drove along the wall that edged the estate. Then stopped to study the twin warriors who flanked the iron gate. "They don't look friendly. I camped up here a couple of times with some friends when I was in high school. The house was empty then, so we climbed over the wall."

N -"Did you go into the house?"

M -"There wasn't enough courage in a six-pack of beer for that, but we had a hell of a time freaking ourselves out. Sam claimed he saw a woman walking on the parapet or whatever you call it. Swore he did. He wrote a book about her later, so I guess he saw something. Samrat Shergill, You might've heard of him."

N -"Samrat Shergill wrote about Warrior's Peak?"

M -"He called it—"

N - "Phantom Watch. I read that book." As a ripple of fascination raced up her spine, she stared through the bars of the gates. "Of course. He described it all perfectly, but then he's a wonderful writer." She looked back at Mayank, suspiciously. "You're friends with Samrat Shergill?"

M-"Since we were kids. He grew up in the Valley. I guess we were sixteen—me, Samrat, and Arman—sucking down beers in the woods, slapping mosquitoes the size of sparrows, and telling very inventive lies about our love lives."

N -"It's illegal to drink at sixteen," Nupur said primly. He shifted, and even through the shaded lenses of his sunglasses, she could see his eyes laughing.

M-"Really? What were we thinking? Anyway, ten years later, Sam's got his first bestseller, and Armi's off running the family empire—that would be lumber and the HomeMakers, and I'm planning on heading to New York to be a hotshot reporter for the Times ." Her eyebrows winged up.

N -"You worked for theNew York Times ?"

M -"No, I never went. One thing and another, Let's see what I can do about getting us through this gate." Even as he started to step out of the car, the gate opened with a kind of otherworldly silence that sent a chill dancing along the nape of his neck." I guess somebody knows we're out here." He slid back behind the wheel and drove through. The house looked just as strange and stark and stunning in daylight as it had in a night storm. There was no magnificent stag to greet her, but the flag with its key emblem flew high and white, and rivers of flowers ran below. Gargoyles clung to the stone, and looked, to Nupur's mind, as if they were considering leaping, not so playfully, on any visitor.

M -"I never got this close in the daylight." Slowly Mayank stepped out of the car.

N -"It's spooky."

M -"Yeah, but in a good way. It's terrific, like something you expect to see on a cliff above a raging sea."

N -"Wait until you see the inside." moving up beside him, and didn't object in the least when Mayank took her hand. The tickle at the back of her throat made her feel foolish and female. "I don't know why I'm so nervous." She caught herself whispering it, then her hand jerked in Mayank's when the big entrance door opened.

Rowena stood framed in the towering doorway. She wore simple gray pants with a roomy shirt the color of the forest. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, her lips were unpainted, her feet bare. But however casual the outfit, she managed to look exotic, like some foreign queen on a quiet holiday. Nupur caught the glint of diamonds at her ears.

Ro -"How lovely. How nice to see you again, Nupur. And you've brought me such a handsome surprise."

N -"Mayank Sharma. He's Gunjan's brother."

Ro-"Welcome. Pitte will be right along. He's just finishing up a call." She gestured them inside. Mayank had to resist gawking at the foyer.

M -"It doesn't seem like the kind of place you'd find telephones."

Rowena's chuckle was low, almost a purr.

Ro-"We enjoy the advantages of technology. Come, we'll have tea."

N -"We don't want to put you to any trouble,"

Ro -"Guests are never any trouble."

M-"How did you find out about Warrior's Peak, Miss…"

Ro -"Rowena." She slid an arm silkily through Mayank's as she walked them to the parlor. "You must call me Rowena. Pitte always has an ear to the ground for an interesting spot."

M -"You travel a lot?"

Ro -"We do, yes."

M -"For work or pleasure?"

Ro - "Without pleasure, there's little point in work. Won't you sit? Ah, here's the tea." Nupur recognized the servant from her first visit. She brought the tea cart in silently, and left the same way.

M -"What business are you in?"

Ro -"Oh, we do a bit of this and that, and some of the other. Milk? Honey, lemon?"

N -"A little lemon, thank you. I have a lot of questions."

Ro- "I'm sure you do, as does your very attractive companion. How do you like your tea, Mayank?"

M -"Black's fine."

Ro -"And what is your business, Mayank?" He took the delicate cup she offered. His gaze was direct, and suddenly very cool.

M -"I'm sure you already know. You didn't pick my sister's name out of a hat. You know everything you need to know about her, and that would include me."

Ro -"Yes." Rowena added both milk and honey to her own tea. Rather than looking insulted or chagrined, she looked pleased. "The newspaper business must be very interesting. So much information to be gathered, and dispersed. I imagine it takes a clever mind to know how to do both well. And here is Pitte." He entered a room, Mayank thought, like a general. Measuring the field, gauging his ground, outlining his approach. However genial his smile, Mayank was certain there was a steely soldier behind it.

P -"Miss Bhushan. What a pleasure to see you again." He took her hand, brought it to within an inch of his lips in a gesture that seemed too fluid not to be natural. Which irked Mayank.

N -"Thanks for seeing us. This is Mayank—"

P -"Yes. Mr. Sharma. How do you do?"

M -"Well enough." Said curtly.

Ro-"Our friends have questions and concerns,"

P -"Naturally. You're wondering, I imagine, if we're…whats the word?"

Ro - "Lunatics,"

P - "Ah, yes, lunatics. I can assure you we're not, but then again, so would I if we were. So that's very little help to you. Tell me, Miss Bhushan, are you having second thoughts about our arrangement?"

N -"I took your money and gave you my word." His expression softened, very slightly.

P -"Yes. To some that would make little difference."

N -"It makes all the difference to me."

M -"That could change, Depending on where the money comes from."

Ro -"Are you implying we could be criminals?" Now temper showed in the flush that swept her ice-edged cheekbones. "It shows considerable lack of courtesy to come into our home and accuse us of being thieves."

M- "Reporters aren't known for their courtesy, and neither are brothers when they're looking out for their sisters and her friends."

Pitte murmured something quiet and foreign, skimmed his long fingers over the back of Rowena's hand, the way a man might soothe a cat who was about to spit and claw.

P -"Understood. It happens I've some skill in monetary matters. The money comes to us through perfectly legal means. We're neither lunatics nor criminals."

N -"Who are you? Where do you come from?"

P -"What do you think?"

N -"I don't know. But I think you believe you represent the teacher and the warrior who failed to protect the Daughters of Glass." An eyebrow arched slightly.

P -"You've learned more since you were here last. Will you learn more yet?"

N -"I intend to. You could help me."

P- "We're not free to help in that way. But I will tell you this. Not only teacher and warrior but companions and friends to those precious ones, and so only more responsible."

M -"It's only a legend." The intensity in his eyes dimmed, and he leaned back again.

P -"It must be, as such things are beyond the limits of your mind and the boundaries of your world. Still, I can promise you the keys exist."

M -"Where is the Box of Souls?"

P -"Safe."

N -"Could I see the painting again? I'd like Mayank to see it."

Ro -"Of course." She rose and led the way into the room dominated by the portrait of the Daughters of Glass. Nupur heard Mayank catch his breath, then they were moving together closer to the painting.

N- "It's even more magnificent than I remembered. Can you tell me who painted this?"

Ro -"Someone, who knew love, and grief."

M -"Someone who knows Nupur. And my sister, and Ridhima Gupta." Rowena let out a sigh.

Ro -"You're a cynic, Mayank, and a suspicious one. But as you've put yourself in the role of protector, I'll forgive you for it. We don't wish either three of them any harm. Quite the opposite." Something in her tone made him want to believe her.

M -"It's pretty disconcerting to see my sister's face up there."

Ro -"You'd do whatever needed to be done to keep her safe and well. I understand that kind of loyalty and love. I admire and respect it. She's in no danger from me or Pitte. I can swear that to you." He turned now, zeroing in on what hadn't been said.

M -"But from someone else?"

Ro -"Life's a gamble," She turned toward the door just as Pitte stepped to it.

P -"There seems to be a very large, very unhappy dog of some sort outside."

The temper and sharp words hadn't ruffled Mayank a bit, but that single statement made him wince.

M -"He's mine."

Ro -"You have a dog?" The change in her tone was almost girlish. Everything about her seemed to go light and bright, then bubble out as she gripped Mayank's hand.

N -"He calls it a dog," said under her breath. Mayank merely gave her a sorrowful look before speaking to Rowena.

M -"You like dogs?"

Ro -"Yes, very much. Could I meet him?"

M -"Sure."

N -"Ah, while you're introducing Rowena and Pitte to Moe, at their peril, could I take a minute to freshen up?" Casually, Nupur gestured toward the powder room. "I remember where it is."

Ro -"Of course." For the first time since nupur had met her, Rowena seemed distracted. She already had a hand on Mayank's arm as they started down the hall. "What kind of a dog is he?"

M -"That's debatable."

Nupur slipped into the powder room and counted to five. Slowly. Heart pounding, she opened the door a crack and did her best to peer up and down the corridor. Moving quickly now, she dashed back to the portrait, dragging out the little digital camera in her purse as she ran. She took half a dozen full-length shots, then some of smaller details. With a guilty look over her shoulder, she shoved the camera back into the purse and pulled out her glasses, a plastic bag, and a small palette knife. With her ears buzzing, she stepped up on the hearth and carefully, gently, scraped flakes of paint into the bag.

The entire process took less than three minutes, but her palms were slick with sweat, her legs loose and wobbly by the time she'd finished. She took another moment to compose herself, then strolled—with what she hoped was casual ease—out of the room and out of the house. The instant she stepped outside, she stopped dead. There was the regal and magnificent Rowena sitting on the ground with a mountain of dog sprawled over her lap. And she was giggling.

Ro -"Oh, he's wonderful. Such a big sweetheart. What a good boy you are." She bent her head and nuzzled Moe's fur. His tail beat like a jackhammer. "What a kind, pretty boy." She looked up at Mayank and beamed. "Did he find you or did you find him?"

M -"It was sort of mutual." One dog lover recognized another. Tucking his thumbs in his pockets, he scanned the expansive lawns, the slices of woods. "Big place like this, lots of room to run. You could have a pack of dogs."

Ro -"Yes. Well." Rowena lowered her head again and rubbed Moe's belly.

P -"We travel considerably." Pitte laid a hand on Rowena's hair, stroked it.

M -"How long do you plan to stay here?"

P -"When the three months is up, we'll move on."

M -"To?"

P - "That will depend.A ghra ."

Ro -"Yes. Yes." Rowena cuddled Moe another moment, then with a wistful sigh got to her feet. "You're very lucky to have such goodness in your life. I hope you treasure him."

M -"I do."

Ro -"I see you do, yes. You may be cynical and suspicious, but a dog like this knows a good heart."

M -"Yeah, I believe that."

Ro -"I hope you'll bring him if you come back. He can run. Good-bye, Moe."

Moe sat up and lifted one massive paw with unaccustomed dignity.

M -"Wow. That's a new one." he blinked as Moe politely allowed Rowena to shake his paw. "Hey, Nups! Did you see—" As he said her name, Moe's head swiveled, and he was off at a sprint in Nupur's direction, bringing a distressed yip to her throat as she braced for the onslaught. Rowena called out, a single indecipherable word in a calm, brisk tone. Moe skidded to a halt inches from Nupur's feet, plopped onto his butt. And once more lifted his paw.

N -"Well." she expelled a relieved breath. "That's more like it." She reached down, obligingly shook the offered paw. "Good for you, Moe."

M -"How the hell'd you do that?"

Ro -"I have a way with animals."

M -"I'll say. What was that, Gaelic?"

Ro -"Mmmm."

M -"Funny that Moe would understand a command in Gaelic when he mostly ignores them in plain English."

Ro -"Dogs understand more than words. I hope you'll all come back. We enjoy company."

N -"Thanks for your time." Nupur walked to the car with Moe trotting happily beside her. The minute she sat, she tucked her purse on the floor like a guilty secret.

Rowena laughed, but the sound was a bit watery as Moe stuck his head out of the backseat window. She lifted a hand in a wave, then leaned against Pitte as Mayank drove away.

Ro -"I have real hope, I can't remember the last time I felt real hope. I—it frightens me. It actually frightens me to feel it." Pitte wrapped an arm around her, drew her tighter to his side.

P -"Don't weep, sweetheart."

Ro -"Foolish." She dashed a tear away. "To cry over a stranger's dog. When we get home…" He shifted her, cupped her face in his hands. His tone was gentle, yet somehow urgent.

P - "When we get home, you'll have a hundred dogs. A thousand."

Ro-"One will do." She rose on her toes to brush her lips across his.

In the car Nupur let out a long, long breath.

M -"I take that sound of relief to mean you got the pictures."

N -"I did. I felt like an international art thief. I guess I have to give Moe points for being the main distraction. So, tell me what you thought of them."

M-"They're slick, smart, and full of secrets. But they don't seem crazy. They're used to money—real money. Used to drinking tea out of antique cups brought in by a servant. They're educated, cultured, and a little snobby with it. The place is full of stuff—fancy stuff. They've only been here a few weeks, so they didn't furnish those rooms locally. They had it shipped in. I should be able to track that."

Frowning, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "She went goony on Moe."

N -"What?"

M -"She turned into a puddle the minute she saw him. I mean, he's got a lot of charm, but she melted. I have this impression of her from inside. Cool, confident, aloof. The kind of woman who's sexy because she knows she's in charge. Strolling up Madison Avenue with a Prada bag on her arm, or running a board meeting in L.A. Power, money, brains, and looks."

N -"I get it. You thought she was sexy." Dryly.

M -"Last checkup, I had a pulse, so, yeah. But you should've seen her face when Moe jumped out of the car. All that polish, that sheen just vanished. She lit up like Diwali."

N -"So, she likes dogs."

M -"No, it was more. It wasn't the coochee-coo that some fancy women do with dogs. It was fall down on the ground, roll in the grass, and gut-laugh. So why doesn't she have one?"

N -"Maybe Pitte won't have one around."

M - "You're more observant than that. The guy would slice open a vein for her if she asked him to. Something strange about the way she got Moe to shake hands. Something strange about the whole deal."

N -"No argument. I'm going to concentrate on the painting, at least until one of us comes up with a different angle. I'll leave you to try to pin down Rowena and Pitte."

M -"I've got to cover a town hall meeting tonight. How about we get together tomorrow?" He maneuvers. He herds. She remembered Gunjan's words and shot him a quick, suspicious look.

N -"Define 'get together.' "

M -"I'll adjust the definition any way you want."

N -"I've got four weeks—less now—to find this key. I'm currently unemployed and have to figure out what I'm going to do, at least professionally, for the rest of my life. I recently ended a relationship that was going nowhere. Add up all the above, and it's very clear I don't have time for dating and exploring a new personal relationship."

M -"Hold on a minute." He pulled off to the side of the windy road, unhooked his seat belt. He leaned over, took her shoulders, and eased her over as far as her own belt would allow while his mouth ravished hers. A rocket of heat shot up her spine and left its edgy afterburn in her belly.

N -"You've, ah, really got a knack for that," she managed when she could breathe again.

M -"I practice as often as possible." To prove it, he kissed her again. Slower this time. Deeper. Until he felt her quiver. "I just wanted you to add that to your equation."

N -"I was an art major. Math isn't my strong suit. Come back here a minute." She grabbed his shirt, yanked him to her, and let herself go. Everything inside her sparked. Blood and bone and brain. If this was what it meant to be herded, she thought dimly, she could be flexible about her direction. When his hands clenched in her hair, she felt a stir of power and anxiety that was as potent as a drug.

N -"We really can't do this." Even as she was clutching his shirt .

M -"I know. Can't." He fumbled with the buckle of her seat belt. "We'll stop in a minute."

N -"Okay…" He shifted her, cursed when he rapped his elbow on the steering wheel. And Moe, delighted with the prospect of a wrestling match, squeezed his head between the seats and slathered both of them with sloppy kisses.

N-"Oh, God!" Torn between laughter and shock, Nupur scrubbed at her mouth. "I really, really hope that was your tongue."

M -"Ditto." Struggling to get his breath back, he stared down at her. Her hair was sexily tousled, her face flushed, her mouth just a little swollen from the assault of his. With the flat of his hand, he shoved Moe's face away and snapped out a curt order to sit. The dog flopped back on his seat and whined as if he'd been beaten with a club.

M -"I wasn't planning on moving this fast."

N - "I wasn't planning on moving at all. And I've always got a plan."

M- "Been a while since I tried this in a car parked on the side of the road."

N -"Me, too." She slid her gaze toward the pathetic sounds coming from the backseat. "Under the circumstances…"

M -"Yeah. Better not. I want to Kiss you." He drew her up. "To touch you. To hold you. I want that, Nupur."

N -"I need to think. Everything about this is complicated, so I have to think about it." She certainly had to think about the fact that she'd nearly torn the man's clothes off in the front seat of a car, on the side of a public road, in broad daylight. "My life's a mess, Mayank." The thought depressed her enough to have her pulse calming again. "Whatever the equation, I've screwed things up, and I have to get back on track. I don't do well with messy situations. So, let's slow this down a little." He hooked a finger in the V of her blouse.

M - "How much is a little?"

N -"I don't know yet. Oh, I can't stand it." She scooted around, leaned over the seat. "Don't cry, you big baby." She ruffled the fur between Moe's ears. "Nobody's mad at you."

M -"Speak for yourself," Mayank grumbled.

Chapter Seven

I feel the sun, warm and somehow fluid like a quiet waterfall gliding from a golden river. I smell roses, and lilies, and some spicier flower that cuts the sweetness. I hear

water, a playful trickle and plop as it rises up, then falls back into itself. All these things slide over me, or I slide into them, but I see nothing but a dense white. Like a curtain I

can't part. Why am I not afraid? Laughter floats toward me. Bright and easy and female. There's a youthful cheer in it that makes me smile, that brings a tickle of laughter to my own throat. I want to find the source of that laughter and join in. Voices now, that quick bird-chatter that is again youth and female. The sounds come and go, ebb and flow. Am I drifting toward it or away? Slowly, slowly, the curtain thins. Only a mist now, soft as silken rain with sunlight sparkling through it. And through it, I see color. Such bold, rich color it sears through that thinning mist and stuns my eyes. Tiles are gleaming silver and explode with sunlight in blinding flashes where the thick green leaves and hot-pink blossoms of trees don't shade or shelter. There are three women, girls, really, gathered around the fountain that plays its happy tune. It's their laughter I hear. One has a small harp in her lap, and the other a quill. But they're laughing at the wriggling puppy the third holds in her arms. They're so lovely. There is about them a touching innocence that's so perfectly suited to the garden where they spend this bright afternoon. Then I see the sword sheathed at one's hip. Innocent perhaps, but strong. There is power here; I can feel the tingle of it now sparking on the air. And still I'm not afraid. They call the puppy Diarmait, and set it down so it can romp around the fountain. Its excited yaps ring like bells. I see one girl slide her arm around the waist of another, and the third rest her head on the second's shoulder. There, they become a unit. A whole of three parts that chatter about their new puppy, and laugh as he rolls gleefully in the flowers. I hear them say names I know, somehow know, and look as they look. In the distance, in the shade of a

tree that drips down with graceful branches heavy with jeweled fruit, are a couple caught in a passionate embrace. He's tall and dark, and there's a strength to him I can sense might be terrible if roused. She's beautiful, and very slender. But there is about her, too, a sense of more. They're desperately in love. I can feel that need, that heat inside me, throbbing like a wound. Is love so painful? The girls sigh over it. And they wish. Someday, they hope. Someday they will love like that—desire and romance, fear and joy all tied into one consuming entity. We are, all of us, caught in that urgent embrace, absorbed with our envy and our dreams. The sky darkens. The colors dim. I feel the wind now. Cold, cold as it spins around and around. The sudden roar of it screams in my ears. Blossoms tear from branches, petals fly like bright bullets. Now I'm afraid. Now I'm terrified even before I see the sly black shape of the snake slither over those silver tiles, before I see the shadow slink out of the trees and lift high the glass box it holds in its black arms. Words boom out. Though I press my hands to my ears to block them, I hear them inside my head.

Mark this time and mark this hour when I wield my awful power. Mortal souls of daughters three forever will belong to me. Their bodies lie in eternal sleep, their souls imprisoned in this glass. The spell will hold sure and deep unless these things come to pass. Three keys to find, to fit, only by mortal hands to turn. Three thousand years in which to learn. An instant more and souls will burn. This test, this quest, to prove a mortal's worthiness. With these words I wind them, and with my art I bind them. These locks I seal and forge these keys, and here hurl them to the hand of destiny. The wind dies, and the air goes still. There on those sun-washed tiles, the three girls lie, their eyes closed as if in sleep, their hands clasped. Three parts of one whole. Beside them is a glass box, its clear panels leaded at the seams, its trio of locks glinting gold. Warm blue lights dance frantically inside it, seem to beat against the glass walls like trapped wings. Three keys lie scattered around it. And seeing them, I weep. Nupur was still shaky when she opened the door to Ridz.

R - "I got here as soon as I could. I had to get Sahil off to school. You sounded so upset on the phone .What—"

N -"Gunjan's not here yet. I'd rather just go through this once. I made coffee."

R -"Great. I'll get it. You look like you still need to catch your breath. Kitchen that way?" putting a hand on Nupur's shoulder and simply lowering her into a chair.

N -"Yeah." Grateful, Nupur leaned back, rubbed her hands over her face.

R - "Why don't you tell me how your date with Mayank went the other night?"

N -"What? Oh. Good. Fine." She dropped her hands, then stared at them as if they belonged to someone else. "That must be Gunjan."

R -"I'll get it. Just sit."

G -"Okay, where's the fire?"demanded. Then stopped, sniffed. "Coffee. Don't make me beg for it."

R -"I'm getting it. Go sit with Nupur." Gunjan plopped down in a chair, pursed her lips, and gave Nupur a long, hard stare.

G -"You look terrible."

N - "Thanks so much."

G -"Hey, don't expect hugs and kisses when you get me out of bed and over here within twenty minutes and on one cup of coffee. Besides, it's reassuring to know you don't roll out of bed looking perfect. What's up?" Nupur glanced over as Ridz came back with three thick white mugs of coffee on a tray.

N -"I had a dream."

G -"I was having a damn good one myself. I think it involved Spike fromBuffy the Vampire Slayer, and then you called and interrupted it."

R -"Gunjan. A nightmare?"

N -"No. At least… no. As soon as I woke up, I typed it out." She rose now and picked up papers from the table. "I've never had a dream with so much detail before. At least I've never remembered details so clearly after I woke up. I wrote it down because I wanted to make sure I didn't forget anything. But I'm not going to. Anyway, it'll be easier if you both just read it." She handed them the typed pages, then took her own coffee and paced to the patio doors.

G -"Wow. I can see why this shook you up. But it's pretty clear where it came from. Mayank told me you guys went up to see the painting again yesterday. All of this is on your mind, and your subconscious just flipped you into it."

R -"It's scary! No wonder you were so upset. I'm glad you called us."

N -"It wasn't just a dream. I was there." She warmed her chilled hands on the coffee mug as she turned. "I walked into that painting."

G -"Okay, honey, take it down a notch or two. You're over identifying, that's all. A

strong, vivid dream can really suck you in."

N -"I don't expect you to believe me, but I'm going to say out loud what's been in my head since I woke up." Woke up, she remembered, shaking with cold, with the sound of that terrible wind still ringing in her ears. "I was there. I could smell the flowers and feel the heat. Then the cold and the wind. I heard them screaming." She closed her eyes and fought a fresh surge of panic. She could still hear them screaming.

N -"And I felt this, this charge in the air, this pressure. When I woke, my ears were still ringing from it. They were speaking Gaelic, but I understood them. How could I?"

R -"You just thought—"

N - "No!" She shook her head fiercely at her. "I knew . When the storm came, when everything went crazy, I heard them calling out for their father.Chi athair sinn . Father, help us. I looked it up this morning, but I knew. How could I know? Their names were Venora, Niniane, and Kyna. How would I know?" She walked back to sit. The relief of saying it all calmed her. Her pulse leveled, as did her voice. "They

were so afraid. One minute they were just young girls playing with their puppy in a world that seemed so perfect and peaceful. And the next, what made them human was being torn out of them. It hurt them, and there was nothing I could do."

G -"I don't know what to think about this, I'm trying to be logical here. The painting's drawn you from the first, and we know the legend is Celtic in origin. We look like the girls in the painting, so we identify with them."

N -"How did I know the Gaelic? How do I know their names?"

G -"I can't explain that." Frowning into her coffee.

N -"I'll tell you something else I know. Whatever locked those souls away is dark, and it's powerful, and it's greedy. It won't want us to win."

R -"The box and the keys,You saw them. You know what they look like."

N -"The box is very simple, very beautiful. Leaded glass, a high, domed lid, three locks across the front. The keys are like the logo in the invitations, like the emblem on the flag flying on the house. They're small. Only about three inches long, I'd say."

G -"It still doesn't make sense, If they had the keys, why hide them? Why not just hand them to the right people, and game over?"

N -"I don't know. There must be a reason."

G - "You said you knew the names they called the couple making out under the tree," Gunjan reminded her.

N -"Rowena and Pitte." she dropped her hands. "Rowena and Pitte," she repeated. "They couldn't stop it either. It happened so quickly, so violently."

After a morning staff meeting that included jelly doughnuts and a pissed-off reporter who'd had her article on fall fashion cut by two inches, Mayank escaped to his office.

As his staff consisted of fewer than thirty people, including the eager sixteen-year-old he paid to write a weekly column from the teenage perspective, having one reporter in a snit was a major staff glitch. He could hear the occasional ring of a phone, and even with his door shut, the muffled clatter of fingers on keyboards. The police radio on top of his file cabinet beeped and hummed, the television squeezed between books on a shelf was set on mute. Now and then he heard a door or drawer slam from the room beyond. Rhoda, the society/fashion/gossip reporter, was still making her annoyance known. Without looking through the glass, he could see her in his mind, spitting darts at him.She, along with more than half the staff, had worked for the paper since he'd been a boy. And plenty of them, he knew, continued to see the Dispatch as his mother's paper. If not his grandfather's. There were times when he resented it, times when he despaired of it, and times when it simply amused him. He couldn't decide which reaction he was having at the moment. All he could think was that Rhoda scared the hell out of him. The best he could do was not think about it, or her, and settle in to polish his article on the meeting he'd attended the night before. Nobody around here would ever call him Chief. Even without Rhoda's periodic snits, he wasn't certain that anyone, including himself, really believed he was in charge. His mother cast a very long shadow. Mrs.Shilpa Sharma. He loved her. Of course he did. Most of the time he even liked her. They'd butted heads plenty when he was growing up, but he'd always respected her. You had to respect a woman who ran her life and her business with equal fervor, and expected everyone else to do the same. Just as you had to give her credit for stepping out of that business when necessity demanded it. Even if she had dumped it in her reluctant son's lap. She'd dumped it all, including, he thought with a wary glance toward Rhoda's desk, surly reporters. She was filing her nails instead of working, he noted. Baiting him. File away, he thought. Today's not the day we square off, you cranky old bat. But that day soon will come. He was deep into adjusting the layout on page 1 of section B when Gunjan walked in.

M -"Not even a cursory knock. No little head peek in the door. Just stomp right in."

G -"I didn't stomp. I've got to talk to you." She threw herself into a chair, then glanced around."Where's Moe?"

M -"It's backyard day for the Moe."

G -"Oh, right."

M -"And maybe you could go by, hang out with him for a while this afternoon. Then maybe you could throw together some dinner, so I'd come home to a hot meal."

G -"Sure, that'll happen."

M -"Listen, I've had a rough morning, I've got a goddamn headache, and I've got to finish this layout."

G- "Rhoda sniping at you again?"

M -"Don't look," Mayank snapped before Gunji could turn around. "You'll just encourage her."

G -"Mayank, why don't you just fire her ass? You take entirely too much crap off her."

M -"She's been with theDispatch since she was eighteen. That's a long time. Now, while I appreciate you dropping in to tell me how to handle my employee problems, I need to finish this."

G - "She really stirred you up this time, huh?"

M -"Forget it." He blew out a breath, then yanked open his desk drawer to hunt up a bottle of aspirin.

G -"You do a good job here, Flynn."

M - "Yeah, yeah," he muttered as he dug a bottle of water out of another drawer.

G -"Shut up. I'm serious. You're good at what you do. As good as Ma was. Maybe better at some areas of it because you're more approachable. Plus you're a better writer than anybody you've got on staff." He eyed her while he washed the aspirin down.

M -"What brought this on?"

G -"You look really bummed." She couldn't stand to see him seriously unhappy. Irritated, confused, pissed off, or surly was fine. But it hurt her heart to see misery etched on his face. "Pleasant Valley needs the Dispatch , and theDispatch needs you. It doesn't need Rhoda. And I bet knowing that just sticks in her craw."

M - "You think?"

G -"You bet. Feel better?"

M -"Yeah." He capped the water bottle, dropped it back in the drawer. "Thanks."

G -"My second good deed for the day. I've just spent an hour at Nupur's, and another twenty minutes wandering around trying to decide if I should dump on you or just keep it between us girls."

M -"If it has to do with hairstyles, monthly cycles, or the upcoming Red Tag sale at the mall, keep it between you girls."

G -"That's so incredibly sexist, I'm not even going to… what Red Tag sale?"

M -"Watch for the ad in tomorrow'sDispatch . Is something wrong with Nupur?"

G - "Good question. She had a dream, only she doesn't believe it was a dream."

She related the discussion before digging in her bag for the typed account Nupur had given her.

G -"I'm worried about her, and I'm starting to worry about me, because she's got me half convinced that she's right."

M -"Quiet a minute." He read it through twice, then sat back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "What if she is right?" Exasperation spiked into her voice.

G -"Do I have to start playing Scully to your Mulder? We're talking about gods and sorcery and the capture of souls."

M -"We're talking about magic, about possibilities. And possibilities should always be explored. Where is she now?"

G -"She said she was going to The Gallery, to do some research on the painting."

M -"Good. Then she's sticking with the plan."

G -"You didn't see her."

M -"No, but I will. What about you? Dig anything up?"

G -"I'm tugging a few lines."

N - "I really owe you for this…"

B -"Oh, honey, any day I can do something behind the bimbo-nazi's back is a day of celebration." Still, Benji cast a cautious look right and left before he opened the door to what had once been Nupur's office and was now Sheena's domain.

N -"Oh, God, what has she done to my space?"

B -"Hideous, isn't it? like the walls vomited Louis XIV. My only satisfaction is

that she actually has to look at this when she comes in."

N - "Where is she now?"

B -"Lunch at the club." he checked his watch. "You've got two hours."

N -"I won't need that much. I need the client list," she said as she headed for the computer on the desk.

B -"Oooh, are you going to steal clients from under her rhinoplasty?"

N -"No. Hmm, happy thought, but no. I'm trying to pin down the artist on a particular painting. I need to see who we have that buys in that style. Then I need our files on paintings with mythological themes. Damn it, she's changed the password."

B -"It's mine."

N -"She uses your password?"

B -"No—M-I-N-E. She wrote it down so she wouldn't forget it—after she forgot

two other passwords. I happened to, ah, come across the note."

N -"I love you, Benji," Nupur exclaimed as she keyed it in.

B -"Enough to tell me what this is all about?"

N -"More than enough, but I'm in kind of a bind about that. A couple of people I'd have to talk to first." She worked fast, locating the detailed client list, copying it to the disk she'd brought with her. "I swear I'm not using this for anything illegal or unethical."

B -"That's a damn shame." She chuckled at that, then opened her bag to offer him a look at the printout she'd made from the digital photo.

N -"Do you recognize this painting?"

B -"Hmm, no. But something about the style."

N -"Exactly. Something about the style. I can't quite place it, but it's nagging at me. I've seen this artist's work before, somewhere. If you remember, give me a call. Day or night."

B –"Sounds urgent."

N -"If I'm not having a psychotic episode, it may very well be."

B -"Does this have anything to do with M.Sharma? Are you working on a story for the paper?"She goggled.

N-"Where did that come from?"

B - "You were seen having dinner with him the other night. I hear everything,"

N - "It doesn't have anything to do with him, not directly. And no, I'm not writing a story. Do you know Mayank?"

B -"Nope..but my neighbor does, she has a major crush on him."

N -"Well… I think I might be dating him. I wasn't going to, but I seem to be."

B – "Whats he like?"

N –"he's funny and interesting and sweet. Pretty bossy in a really clever way so you barely notice until you've been bossed. Smart, and I think tenacious."

B -"Sounds perfect."

N –"Hmm i think so too..i may have to keep him..Mission accomplished with no loss of life. Thanks." She threw her arms around him, gave him a big, noisy kiss on the cheek. "I've got to get to work on this."

She hunkered down in her apartment, systematically going through the data, cross-referencing, eliminating, until she had a workable list. By the time she left for Mayank's, she'd winnowed The Gallery's client list by seventy percent. Gunji was already there when she arrived.

G -"Had dinner?"

N -"No." looking around, cautiously, for Moe. "I forgot."

G -"Good. We've got pizza coming. Mayank's out back with Moe for their daily romp. You're okay that I told him about your dream?"

N -"Yeah. We seem to have brought him into this."

G -"Okay. Go in and flop. We'll have some wine." She'd barely done so when Ridz arrived with Sahil in tow.

R -"I hope it's all right. I couldn't get a sitter."

S - "I don'tneed a sitter,"

R -"I need a sitter." she hooked an arm around his neck. "He's got homework, so if there's a corner he can use. I brought the shackles." Gunjan winked at him.

G -"We'll use the dungeon. Can we torture him, then feed him pizza?"

R -"We've already had—"

S -"I could eat pizza," Sahil interrupted. Then he let out a whoop as Moe charged in from the back of the house. "Wow! That's some dog!"

R-"Sahil, don't—" But boy and dog were already rushing together, caught in the throes of mutual love at first sight.

G -"Hey, Mayank, look what Ridz brought us. We get to make him do homework."

M -"I've always wanted to do that with somebody. You must be Sahil."

S -"Uh-huh. This is a great dog, mister."

M -"The dog's Moe, I'm Mayank. Ridz, can Sahil take Moe back out so they can run around like maniacs for a while?"

R -"Sure. Twenty minutes, Sahil, then you hit the books."

S -"Sweet!"

M -"Straight out the back, there's a ball out there with toothmarks and drool all over it. He likes you to chase it and fetch it back to him."

S-"You're funny, let's go Moe!"

G -"Pizza," Gunjan announced when the bell rang. "Want to call him back?"

R -"No, he's fine. He just finished eating three helpings of spaghetti."

G -"Mayank, be a man. Pay for the pizza."

M -"Why do I always have to be the man?" Then he zeroed in on Nupur and grinned. "Oh, yeah. That's why." Gunjan sat on the floor with a fresh notebook in her lap.

G - "Let's be organized about this. The librarian in me demands it. Ridz, pour yourself some wine. We can each report what we've found or thought or

speculated on since the last time we got together."

R -"I haven't found much. I typed up all my notes, though."

G -"Aren't you a good girl?" Delighted, Gunjan took the folder, then pounced on the first box of pizza when Mayank dropped two of them on the coffee table. "I'm starving ."

M-"There's news." He sat on the sofa beside Nupur, turned her face toward him with his hand, then kissed her long and firm. "Hi."

N – "Hi" smiling.

R -"Gee, don't I get one of those?"

At Ridz's question, he shifted and leaned toward her, but she laughed and gave him a light shove. "I'd better settle for the wine."

G -"Settle down, We know about Nup's experience. I have the typed report of it here, which I'll add to the collection of notes and other data."

N -"I've got more. I have a list of people—clients through The Gallery— who've purchased or shown interest in classical and/or mythological subject matter in art. I've also started a search of like styles, but that's going to take some time. I intend to start making phone inquiries tomorrow."

R -"I could help, I was thinking that maybe we should do a search for paintings that include the element of a key. Like a theme."

N -"That's good,"

R -"I've got some appointments tomorrow, but I'll work around them."

G -"I've been working on the clue itself. I'm wondering if we should take some of the key phrases and do a search on place names. Like restaurants or shops. Take the Singing Goddess, for example. I didn't find anything on that, but it's the sort of thing that could be the name of a shop or a restaurant or a site."

M - "Not bad,"

G -"I've got some more. I put in some Internet time running the three names Nupur heard in her… in her dream. "Niniane" comes up a few times. Some legends have her as the sorceress who enchanted Arthur's Merlin and trapped him in the cave of crystal. There's another that has her as Merlin's mother. But when I put her together with the other two, I found one hit from this esoteric little site on goddess worship. It gives a variation on the Daughters of Glass—and calls them by those names."

N -"Those are their names. You can't think it's a coincidence that I dreamed those names and you found them today."

G -"No, But isn't it possible you came across the same site and the names stuck in

your head?"

N -"No. I would've written it down. I would've remembered. I never heard them before the dream."

M -"Okay." patting her knee. "First, I'll tell you I haven't found any record of a shipping or moving company that serviced Warrior's Peak. And no record of any company shipping furniture here for clients under Triad."

G-"They had to get all that stuff in there somehow,They didn't just click the heels of their ruby slippers together."

M -"Just giving you the facts. The real-estate company didn't make the arrangements for them, either. At this point, I haven't found any trail leading Rowena or Pitte to the Peak. Not saying there isn't one, Just saying I haven't found one through the logical sources."

R -"I guess we have to look at the illogical ones." He shifted to beam at Ridz.

M -"There you go. But I've got one more logical step to take. Who do I know

who collects art seriously, someone I could use as a source? The Malliks. So I gave my old pal Arman a call. It so happens he's heading back here in a couple of days."

G -"Armi's coming back to the Valley?"

M -"He's taking over the local headquarters for Home-Makers. Arman's got the Mallik passion for art. I described the painting to him, or started to. I wasn't close to being finished when he gave me the title.The Daughters of Glass ."

N -"No, that can't be. I'd have heard of it." Nupur pushed herself to her feet and began to pace. "Who's the artist?"

M -"Nobody seems to be sure."

N -"Just not possible, A major talent like that, I'd have heard. I'd have seen more of the artist's work."

M - "Maybe not. According to Arman, nobody seems to know much about the artist.The Daughters of Glass was last seen in a private home in London. Where it was, by all accounts, destroyed during the Blitz. In 1942."

_______________________________________________________________

Nupur closed herself in her apartment for two days. She submerged herself in books, telephone calls, E-mail. It was foolish, she'd decided, to run around chasing a dozen different angles and suppositions. Better— far better—to conduct the search with technology and systematic logic. She couldn't function, simply couldn'tthink , in disorder. Which was why, she admitted as she carefully labeled yet another file, she'd failed as an artist. The painting at Warrior's Peak, or one done by the same artist, was the path. She was sure of that now. Why else did she keep coming back to it? Why had she somehow in her dreams walked into it? Why had she been chosen to find the first key, she thought, if not for her knowledge of and contacts in the art world? She'd been told to look within and without. Within the painting, or another by the same artist? Did "without" mean to look at what surrounded the painting? Opening a file folder, she studied the printout of the painting again. What surrounded the daughters? Peace and beauty, love and passion—and the threat to destroy it. As well as, she mused, the method to restore it. A key in the air, in the trees, in the water. She was damn sure she wasn't about to pluck a magic key out of the air or from a tree branch, so what did it meant And which of those three was hers? Too literal? Perhaps. Maybe "within" meant she was to look inside herself to her feelings about the painting, both the emotional and the intellectual response. Where the goddess sings, she reflected as she rose from her piles of research to pace. No one had been singing in the dream. But the fountain had reminded her of music. Maybe it had something to do with the fountain. Maybe water was her key. And, she thought in frustration, she might not have left her apartment, but she was still running in circles.

There were only three weeks left. Her heart jumped at the quickrat-a-tat on her glass patio doors. There stood the man and his dog on the other side. Instinctively she ran a hand over the hair she'd yanked back into a ponytail sometime that morning. She hadn't bothered with makeup or with changing out of the baggy cotton pants and tank she'd

slept in. Not only was she not looking her best, but she was pretty sure she'd dipped below her personal worst. When she opened the door, she decided Mayank verified that when he took a good, hard look at her.

M -"Honey, you need to get out." She felt, actually felt, her face arrange itself in a sulk.

N -"I'm busy. I'm working."

M -"Yeah." He glanced at the neat stacks of research materials on her dining room table. It was amazing to him, and oddly charming. Even alone and at work she kept things tidy. Moe bumped her leg with his snout, then gathered himself to leap. Recognizing the signal now, Nupur stuck out a hand.

N -"No jumping," she ordered and had Moe quivering in his desire to obey. As a reward she gave him a congratulatory pat on the head. "I don't have any—"

M -"Don't say it, Don't say any food words. He loses his head. Come on, let's get out." He caught Nupurs's hand in his. "We'll go for a walk."

N -"I'm working. Why aren't you?"

M -"Because it's after seven, and I like to pretend I have a life outside of the paper."

N -"After seven? I didn't realize it was so late."

M -"Which is why you need to go for a walk. Fresh air and exercise."

N -"Maybe, but I can't go out like this."

M -"Why not?"

N -"I'm in my pajamas."

M -"They don't look like pajamas."

N -"Well, they are, and I'm not going out in them, and with my hair all horrible and no makeup on."

M - "There's no dress code for walking the dog." Still, he was a man who had a mother and a sister, and he knew the rules. "But if you want to change, we'll wait."

He'd dealt with enough women to know the wait could be anywhere from ten minutes to the rest of his life. Since he'd learned to think of the female grooming process as a kind of ritual, he didn't mind. It gave him a chance to sit out on the patio, with Moe flopped over his feet, and scribble ideas for articles in his notebook. In his opinion, time was only wasted if you didn't do something with it. If the something was staring off into space and letting the mind drift on whatever current was the strongest at that moment, that was fine. But since that current was how he might get his hands on Nupur again, he figured it would be more productive all around to channel his energies into work. Since Armi was coming back to the Valley, theDispatch would need a solid feature on him, on the Malliks, on HomeMakers. The history of the family and their business, the face of that business in today's economic climate, and any plans for the future. He would handle that one himself, and combine his professional and personal interests. Just as he was doing with Nupur. So he began to note down various aspects that described her.

Both updates were good

Chapter Eight

He got to his feet, hooking a hand in Moe's collar before the dog could leap on Nupur.

M -"You look great. Smell even better."

N -"And I'd like to keep it that way." She leaned down, tapped a finger lightly on Moe's nose. "So, no jumping."

M -"Why don't we take a drive down to the river? Then he can run around like crazy." She had to give him points. He'd managed to turn walking the dog into a date and had done it smoothly. So smoothly, she didn't realize she was on a date until they were sitting on a blanket by the river eating ice cream while Moe raced around barking hopefully at squirrels. But it was hard to complain when the air was cool and fresh, and the light softening as the sun sank lower in the west. When it dropped beneath those peaks, everything would go soft and gray and it would be cooler yet. She would need the light jacket she'd brought along—at least she would if they stayed to watch the stars come out. And how long had it been since she'd watched the stars come out? Now that she was here, she wondered if the enforced hibernation, however brief, had accomplished anything more than creating a logjam in her mind. She wasn't an isolationist. She needed contact with people. Conversations, stimuli, sound and movement. And realizing that only made her understand how much she needed to be part of the workforce again. If she grabbed the million dollars at the end of this strange rainbow, she would still need to work. Just for the day-to-day energy.

N -"I have to admit, I'm glad you got me out."

M -"You're not a cave dweller. You're a social animal. Take Gunji, she's more cave dweller than social animal. If you left her alone, she'd be perfectly happy holed up with mountains of books and a vat of coffee. At least for a few weeks. Then she'd need to come up for air. Me, I'd go nuts after a day or two. I need the charge. So do you."

N -"You're right. And I'm not sure how I feel about you figuring that out so soon."

M -"Soon's relative. I've spent, oh, about a year thinking about you in the past week. Given time and energy ratios. It's been a while since I've given that much thought to a woman, in case you're wondering."

N -"I don't know what I'm wondering. Yes, I do, Why haven't you brought up the key, or asked me what I'm doing about finding it?"

M -"Because you've had enough of that for now. If you'd wanted to get into it, you'd have brought it up. You're not shy."

N -"You're right. Why did you bring me out here, away from town?"

M -"It's quiet. Nice view. Moe likes it. There's the slim chance I can get you to make out with me on this blanket—"

N -"Try slim to none."

M -"Slim's enough to keep me going. And I wanted to see if Armi's moving in yet." He looked across the ribbon of water to the rambling two-story frame house on the opposite bank. "Doesn't look like it."

N -"You miss him."

M -"You got that right."

N - "I have some friends from college. We were so close, and I guess we all thought we'd be close forever. Now we're all scattered and hardly see each other. Once or twice a year if we can all manage it. We talk on the phone or through E-mail now and then, but it's not the same. I miss them. I miss who we were when we were friends, and that telepathy you develop so that you know what the other's thinking, or what she'd do in some situation. Is it that way for you?"

M -"Pretty much." He reached over, toyed with the ends of her hair in the same absent way. "But we go back to being kids together. None of us are big on phone calls. Maybe because Armi and I end up on the phone through most of our workday. E-mail does the job. Sam, he's the E-mail king."

N -"I met him for about ninety seconds at a book signing, in Pittsburgh, about four years ago. All dark and handsome, with a dangerous gleam in his eye."

M -"You want dangerous?" It made her laugh. He was sitting on a ratty blanket eating ice cream while his big, silly dog barked at a squirrel that was ten feet up a tree.

Then she was flat on her back, his body pressed to hers, and the laugh died in her throat. His mouth was dangerous. Foolish of her to have forgotten that. However affable and easy he appeared on the surface, there were storms inside him. Hot, whippy storms that could crash over the unwary before they could think about taking shelter. So she didn't think at all, but let it rage. And let that secret part of herself, that part she'd never risked exposing, slide out. And take, even as it was taken.

M -"How's this working for you?" he murmured as he fixed that amazing mouth on her throat.

N -"So far, so good." He lifted his head, looked down at her. And his heart shuddered in his chest. "Something here. Some big something here."

M -"I don't think—"

N -"Yes, you do." Impatience, potent and unexpected, snapped out. "You may not want to think—I'm not real keen on it myself, but you do. I really hate using the obvious metaphor, but this is like turning a key in a lock. I can hear the goddamn click." He pushed up, dragged an unsteady hand through his hair.

M -"I'm not ready to hear any goddamn click." She sat up quickly, brushed fussily at the front of her shirt. It threw her off balance that she could find his temper both irritating and arousing at the same time.

N -"You think I want to hear one? I've got enough on my mind right now without you clicking around in my head. I need to find the first key. I've got to work this out. I need to find a job. And I don't even want a stupid job. I want…"

M -"What? What do you want?"

N -"I don'tknow ." She scrambled to her feet. There was a fury inside her. She didn't know where it came from or where it needed to go. Turning away, she stared at the house across the river, folded her arms firmly over her chest. "And I always know what I want."

M -"You're one up on me there." He rose, but didn't go to her. Whatever was pumping inside him—anger, need, fear—was too unstable to risk touching her. The breeze was playing with the ends of her hair, as he had. She looked so slim, so perfect, standing there, half turned away from him.

M -"The only thing I've been absolutely sure I wanted… ever," he realized, "is you." She glanced back as nervous wings began to stir in her belly.

N - "I don't imagine I'm the only woman you've wanted to have an affair with."

M -"No. Actually, the first was Joley Ridenbecker. We were eighteen. And that particular desire was never fulfilled."

N -"Now you're making a joke of it."

M -"I'm not. Not really." He stepped toward her and his voice was gentle. "I wanted Joley, as much as I knew what that meant at eighteen. It was intense, even painful, and kind of sweet. Eventually I found out what that meant. I wanted other women along the way. I even loved one, which is why I know the difference between wanting a woman, and wanting you. If it was just sex, it wouldn't piss me off."

N -"It's hardly my fault you're pissed off." She scowled at him. "And you don't look or sound as if you are."

M -"I tend to get really reasonable when I'm seriously annoyed. It's a curse." He picked up the ball Moe spat at his feet, then threw it with a strong whiplash of arm. "And if you think it's a joy to be able to see both sides of an argument, to see the validity on each end, let me tell you, it's a pain in the ass."

N -"Who was she?" He shrugged, then picked up the ball Moe returned, threw it again. M -"Doesn't matter."

N -"I'd say it does. And that she still does."

M -"It just didn't work out."

N -"Fine. I should be getting back now." She walked back to kneel on the blanket and tidy the remains of their impromptu picnic.

M -"That's a skill I admire, and nobody does it like a woman. The implied 'f**k you,' " he explained, then shot the ball in the air for Moe once more. "She left me. Or I didn't go with her. Depends on your point of view. We were together the best part of a year. She was a reporter for the local station, moved up to weekend anchor, then evening anchor. She was good, and we got to have all these arguments and discussions over the impact and value of our particular news medium. Which is sexier than it may sound. Anyway, we planned to get married, move to New York. Eventually, on the moving part. Then she got an offer from an affiliate up there. She went. I stayed."

N -"Why did you stay?"

M -"Because I'm George f**king Bailey." The ball burst out of his hand again like a rocket.

N -"I don't understand."

M -"George Bailey, giving up his dreams of travel and adventure to stay in his hometown and rescue the old savings and loan. I'm no Jimmy Stewart, but theDispatch sure as hell turned out to be my savings and loan. My stepfather, Gujan's dad, had been ill. My mother shifted some of the responsibilities of editor in chief to me. I assumed it was temporary, until Pa got back on his feet. But the doctors, and my mother, wanted him out of the cold winters. And they wanted, deserved, to enjoy a retirement period. She threatened that if I didn't take over for her at the paper, she would shut it down. My mother doesn't make idle threats." With a humorless laugh, he tossed the ball again. "You can bet your ass she doesn't. A Sharma runs the Valley Dispatch or there is noDispatch ."

N -"If she knew you wanted something different…" He managed to smile.

M -"She didn't want something different. I could've gone, just kicked the dust off my heels and gone with Dia to New York. And all the people who work at the paper would've been out of a job. Half of them, maybe more, wouldn't have been picked up by whoever started another paper. She knew I wouldn't go." He studied the ball in his hand, turned it slowly, spoke softly. "She never did like Dia anyway."

N -"Mayank—" He gave in to Moe's desperate excitement and heaved the ball. "Before I make it sound pitiful and pathetic—I did want to go, then. I loved Dia, then. But I didn't love her enough to pack up and go when she gave me the ultimatum. She didn't love me enough to stay, or to give me the time to work things out here and meet up with her." Then you didn't love each other at all, Nupur thought, but she remained silent.

M -"Less than a month after she'd landed in New York, she called and broke our engagement. She needed to concentrate on her career, couldn't handle the stress of a relationship, much less a long-distance one. I should be free to see other people and make a life, while she was going to be married to her job. And in six months she was married to an NBC news exec and moving steadily up the ladder. She got what she wanted, and in the end so did I." He turned back to Nupur. His face was calm again, eyes clear as if the fury had never been behind them. "My mother was right—and I really hate that part. But she was right. This is my place, and I'm doing exactly what I want to do."

N -"The fact that you see that says a lot more about you than about either one of them." He threw the ball one last time.

M -"I made you feel sorry for me."

N -"No. You made me respect you." She rose, walked to him and kissed his cheek. "I think I remember this Dia from the local news. Short hair, right? Lots of teeth."

M -"That'd be Lily."

N -"Her voice was entirely too nasal, and she had a weak chin."He leaned over, kissed her cheek in turn.

M -"That's a really nice thing to say. Thanks." Moe raced back and spat out the ball on the ground between them.

N - "How long will he do that?"

M -"For all eternity, or until my arm falls off." She gave the ball a good boot with her foot as Moe raced happily off

N -"It's getting dark, You should take me home."

M -"Or I could take Moe home and we could—ah, I see by the way your eyebrows have arched and your lip has curled that your mind is in the gutter. I was going to say we could go to the movies."

N -"You were not."

M -"I certainly was. In fact, it so happens I have the movie section in the car, for your perusal." They were all right again, she realized, and wanted to kiss him—this time in friendship. Instead, she fell into the rhythm and played the game out.

N -"You have the entire paper in the car, because it's your paper."

M-"Be that as it may, I'll still let you pick the flick."

N-"What if it's a Hindi Film?"

M -"Then I'll suffer in silence."

N -"You already know there aren't any such films playing at the local multiplex, don't you?"

M -"That's neither here nor there. Come on, Moe, let's go for a ride." It had done her good, Nupur decided, to step away from the puzzle and the problems for an evening. She felt fresher this morning, and more optimistic. And it felt good to be interested in and attracted to a complicated man. He was complicated, she thought. Only more so because he gave the impression, at least initially, of being simple. And so that made him yet another puzzle to solve. She couldn't deny that click he'd spoken of. Why should she? She wasn't a game player when it came to relationships—she was cautious. It meant she needed to find out if the click was merely sexual or tangled around something more.Puzzle number three, she decided as she hunkered down to continue her research. Her first phone call of the morning left her stunned. Moments after hanging up, she was tearing through her old college textbooks on art history.

The door of the Mallik house was wide open. A number of burly men were hauling furniture and boxes in, or hauling furniture and boxes out. Just watching them gave Mayank a backache. He recalled the weekend years before when he and Sam had moved into an apartment. How they, with Armi's help, had carted a secondhand sofa that weighed as much as a car up three flights of stairs. Those were the days, Mayank reminisced. Thank God they were over. Moe leaped out of the car behind him and without waiting for an invitation raced straight into the house. There was a crash, a curse. Mayank could only pray that one of the Mallik family antiques hadn't bit the dust as he hurriedly followed.

A -"Oh my God! You call this a puppy?"

M -"He was a puppy—a year ago." Looking at his oldest friend, currently being greeted by and slobbered on by his dog. And his heart simply sang.

M -"Sorry about the… was that a lamp?" Arman glanced at the broken china scattered in the foyer.

A -"It was a minute ago. All right, big guy. Down."

M -"Outside, Moe. Chase the rabbit!" In response, Moe let out a series of barks and bombed out the door.

A -"What rabbit?"

M -"The one that lives in his dreams. Hey." He stepped forward, crunching broken shards under his feet, and caught Arman in one hard hug. "Looking good. For a suit."

A -"Who's a suit?" He couldn't have looked less like one in worn jeans and a denim work shirt. He looked, Mayank thought, tall and lean and fit. The Mallik's golden child, the family prince, who was as happy running a construction crew as he was a board meeting. Maybe happier.

M -"I came by last evening, but the place was deserted. When did you get in?"

A -"Late. Let's get out of the way," he suggested as the movers carried in another load. He jerked a thumb and led the way to the kitchen. The house was always furnished, and made available to execs or visiting brass from the Mallik corporation. Once it had been their home in the Valley, a place Mayank had known as well as his own. The kitchen had been redone since the days when he'd begged cookies there, but the view out the windows, off the surrounding deck, was the same. Woods and water, and the rising hills beyond. Some of the best parts of his childhood were tied up in this house. Just as they were tied up in the man who now owned it. Armi poured coffee, then led mayank out on the deck.

M -"How's it feel to be back?"

A -"Don't know yet. Odd, mostly." He leaned on the rail, looked out beyond.

Everything was the same. Nothing was the same. He turned back, a man comfortable in his frame. He had a layer or two of big city on him, and was comfortable with that as well. His hair was used to be wild that had tamed down with the years, just as the dimples in his cheeks were closer to creases now. Much to his relief. His eyes were a stone gray under straight brows. They tended to look intense, even when the rest of his face smiled. Mayank knew it wasn't the mouth that showed Arman's mood. It was the eyes. When they smiled, he meant it. They did so now.

A - "Son of a bitch. It's good to see you." Equally happy to see Mayank.

M -"I never figured you for coming back, not for any length of time."

A -"Neither did I. Things change, they're meant to, I guess. I've been itchy the last few years. I finally figured out I was itchy for home. How are things with you, Mr. Editor in Chief?"

M -"They're okay. I assume you'll be subscribing to our paper. I'll make arrangements for that," he added with a grin. "We put up a nice red box next to the mailbox on the road. Morning delivery out here usually hits by seven."

A -"Sign me up."

M -"I will. And I'm going to want to interview Arman Mallik IV at his earliest convenience."

A-"Shit. Give me a while to settle in before I have to put on my corporate hat."

M -"How about next Monday? I'll come to you."

A -"Christ, you've become Clark Kent. No, worse, Lois Lane..without the great legs. I don't know what I've got going on Monday, but I'll have my assistant set it up."

M -"Great. How about we grab some beer and catch up tonight?"

A -"I can get behind that. How's your family?"

M -"Ma and Pa are doing fine out in Phoenix."

A -"Actually, I was thinking more about the delicious Gunjan."

M -"You're not going to start hitting on my sister again? It's embarrassing."

A -"She hooked up with anybody?"

M -"No, she's not hooked up with anybody."

A -"Is she still that gorgeous?" Mayank winced.

M -"Shut up, Mallik!!" Arman just laughed.

A - "I love yanking your chain over that one. Though it's entertaining, that's not why I asked you to come out. There's something I think you're going to want to see. I did some thinking when you told me about this deal Gunji and her friends got themselves into."

M -"You know something about these people up at Warrior's Peak?"

A -"No. But I know something about art. Come on. I had them put it in the great room. I'd just finished uncrating it personally when I heard you drive up."

He walked along the deck, around the corner of the house to the double glass doors bordered by etched panels. The great room boasted a towering ceiling with a circling balcony, a generous fireplace with hearth and mantel of hunter-green granite framed in golden oak. There was space for two sofas, one in the center of the room, the other tucked into a cozy conversation area along the far wall. More space spilled through a wide arch, where the piano stood and where Arman had spent countless tedious hours practicing. There, propped against the hearth of a second fireplace, was the painting. The muscles in Mayank's belly went loose.

M -"God. Oh, God."

A - "It's called After the Spell . I got it at an auction about three years ago. Do you remember I mentioned I'd bought a painting because one of the figures in it looked like Gunji?"

M -"I didn't pay any attention. You were always razzing me about Gunji." He crouched down now, stared hard at the painting. He didn't know art, but even with his limited eye, he'd have bet the farm that the same hand had painted this that had created the painting at Warrior's Peak. There was no joy or innocence here, however. The tone was dark, a kind of grieving, with the only light, pale, pale light, glowing from the three glass coffins where three women seemed to sleep. His sister's face, and Nupur's, and Ridhima's.

M -"I have to make a phone call." He straightened and dug out his cell phone. "There's someone who has to see this right away."