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

Hi im aastu,

i have been a silent reader of all of your ff's for some time and thought of writing one inspired by one of my fav books of nora roberts..Has any1 read it? it revolves around some very strong characters.
I dont follow a lot of tv soaps but am somewhat a mjht and dmg fan...the story is gonna mainly revolve around the main characters of these shows. Its a trilogy all characters are interconnected. the first story will revolve around MN , the second SG and the third around AR

Key Of Light (MN) , Key Of Knowledge(SG) , Key Of Valor (AR)

Fate brings three women (nupur,gunjan,ridhima) together for a chance to unlock their deepest desires. The trio is challenged with a quest to find three keys that unlock a magical box. This box contains the souls of three demigoddesses that are being held prisoner by an evil sorcerer. Each woman must find one key during a four-week period. If she finds the key, then the next woman has four more weeks to find the next key. If all three keys are found and the box unlocked, the souls will be saved and Nupur, Gunjan and Ridhima will each receive $100,000.

Main Characters

Nupur Bhushan : Nupur is a bright and talented gallery manager. Art and the beauty it provides is an integral part of her life. shes a shopaholic and the ultimate perfectionist.

Gunjan Mehra : Gunjan a strong woman with intelligence and the love of knowledge that makes her one heck of a librarian who is far from stereotypical.

Ridhima Gupta : Ridhima is a beautician/stylist and a single mom. She is smart, loyal and fiercely devoted to her young son.

Mayank sharma: Mayank..gunjan's step brother, owns the local newspaper. He is a charming, funloving guy who attracted to his sisters new friend nupur.

Samrat Shergill : samrat is a famous author...and one of mayank's best friends from childhood. gunjan and samrat are former lovers with a complicated past.

Arman Mallik: Arman is a rich and an heir to a successful business empire. He is sometimes comes across as snooty but overall a very lovable down to earth guy. He is mayank's other childhood best friend and is drawn to Ridhima.

Supporting characters

Rowena and Pitte. Guardians to the Box of Souls. an otherworldly beautiful , strong couple who will help them in this quest.

Basically am planning to re-write the book with these characters... pls let me know if u like it and i should continue.😃

Thanx

Index

Key OF Light - MN

Chap 1 - page 1

Chap 2 - page 1

Chap 3 - page 2

Chap 4 - page 2

Chap 5 - page 2

Chap 6 - page 3

Chap 7 - page 3

Chap 8 - page 4

Chap 9 - Page 4

Chap 10 - Page4

Chap 11 - Page5

Chap 12 - page 5

Chap 13 - Page 5

Chap 14 - Page 6

Chap 15 - Page 6

Chap 16 - Page 7

Chap 17 - Page 8

Chap 18 - Page 8

Chap 19 - Page 9

Chap 20 - Page 9

Key Of Knowledge - SG

Chap 1 - Page 10

Chap 2 - Page 10

Chap 3 - Page 10

Chap 4 - Page 10

Chap 5 - Page 11

Chap 6 - Page 11

Chap 7- Page 11

Chap 8 - Page 11

Chap 9 - Page 14

Chap 10 - Page 14

Chap 11 - Page 15

Chap 12 and 13 - Page 15

VERY VERY IMPORTAN ALL FANS MUST READ THIS

Key of Light

Chapter One

The storm ripped over the mountains, gushing torrents of rain that struck the ground with the sharp ring of metal on stone along with lightning. There was a gleeful kind of mean in the air, a sizzle of temper and spite that boiled with power. It suited Nupur bhushan's mood perfectly. Hadn't she asked herself what else could go wrong? Now in answer to that weary, and completely rhetorica—nature was showing her just how bad things could get. There was an ominous rattling somewhere in the dash of her sweet little beetle, and she still had nineteen payments to go on it. In order to make those payments, she had to keep her job. She hated her job. That wasn't part of the Nupur Life Plan, which she had begun to outline at the age of eight. Twenty years later, that outline had become a detailed and organized checklist, complete with headings, subheadings, and cross-references. She revised it meticulously on the first day of each year.

She was supposed to love her job. It said so, quite clearly, under the heading of career.

She'd worked at The Gallery for seven years, the last three of those as manager, which was right on schedule. And she had loved it—being surrounded by art, having an almost free hand in the displaying, the acquiring, the promotion, and the setup for showings and events. The fact was, she'd begun to think of The Gallery as hers, and knew full well that the rest of the staff, the clients, the artists and craftsmen felt very much the same.

Mr.Rahul Bhatt might have owned the smart little gallery, but he never questioned Nupur's decisions, and on his increasingly rare visits he complimented her, always, on the acquisitions, the ambience, the sales. It had been perfect, which was exactly what nupur intended her life to be. After all, if it wasn't perfect, what was the point?

Everything had changed when her boss ditched fifty-three years of comfortable bachelorhood and acquired himself a young, sexy wife. A wife, nupur thought with her eyes narrowing in resentment, who'd decided to make The Gallery her personal pet.

It didn't matter that the new Mrs.Bhatt knew next to nothing about art, about business, about public relations, or about managing employees. Rahul doted on his Sheena, and Nupur's dream job had become a daily nightmare.

But she'd been dealing with it, Nupur thought as she scowled through her dark, drenched windshield. She had determined her strategy: she would simply wait Sheena out. She would remain calm and self-possessed until this nasty little bump was past and the road smoothed out again. Now that excellent strategy was out the window. She'd lost her temper when Sheena countermanded her orders on a display of art glass and turned the perfectly and beautifully organized gallery upside down with clutter and ugly fabrics.

There were some things she could tolerate, she told herself, but being slapped in the face with hideous taste in her own space wasn't one of them. Then again, blowing up at the owner's wife was not the path to job security. Particularly when the words myopic, plebeian bimbo were employed. A very bad move on her part, which only showed what happened when you gave in to temper and impulse.

To top it off, she'd spilled coffee on Sheena's expensive suit. But that had been an accident. Almost. However fond Rahul was of her, Nupur knew her livelihood was hanging by a very slim thread. And when the thread broke, she would be sunk. Art galleries weren't a dime a dozen in a pretty, picturesque town like PleasantValley. She would either have to find another area of work or relocate. Neither option put a smile on her face. She loved the small-town feel, the mix of quaint and sophisticated that drew the tourists, and the getaway crowds that spilled out of the neighboring cities for impulsive weekends. Visiting with her parents at 14 she had decided to one day move here. She loved the tidy streets of a valley town, the simplicity of the pace, the friendliness of neighbors. Just as she'd decided, when she wandered through The Gallery that long-ago autumn, that she knew would one day be part of that space.

Of course, at the time she had thought her paintings would hang there, but that was one item on her checklist that she'd been forced to delete rather than tick off when it was accomplished. She would never be an artist. But she had to be,needed to be, involved with and surrounded by art. Still, she didn't want to move back to the city. She wanted to keep her gorgeous, roomy apartment two blocks from The Gallery, with its views of the mountains, its creaky old floors, and its walls that she'd covered with carefully selected artwork. But the hope of that was looking as dim as the stormy sky.

So she hadn't been smart with her money, Nupur admitted with a windy sigh. She didn't see the point of letting it lie in some bank when it could be turned into something lovely to look at or to wear. Until it was used, money was just paper. Nupur tended to use a great deal of paper.

She was overdrawn at the bank. Again. She'd maxed out her credit cards. Ditto. But, she reminded herself, she had a great wardrobe. And the start of a very impressive art collection. Which she would have to sell, piece by piece and most likely at a loss, to keep a roof over her head if Sheena brought the axe down.

But maybe tonight would buy her some time and goodwill. She hadn't wanted to attend the cocktail reception at Warrior's Peak. A fanciful name for a spooky old place, she thought. Another time she would've been thrilled at the opportunity to see the inside of the great old house so high on the ridge. And to rub elbows with people who might be patrons of the arts. But the invitation had been odd—written in an elegant hand on heavy, stone-colored paper, with a logo of an ornate gold key in lieu of letterhead.

She remembered the wording.

The pleasure of your company is desired for cocktails and conversation

Eight p.m., September 4

Warrior's Peak You are the key. The lock awaits.

Now how weird was that? Nupur asked herself, and gritted her teeth as the car shimmied in a sudden gust of wind. The way her luck was going, it was probably a scam for a pyramid scheme. The house had been empty for years. She knew it had been purchased recently, but the details were sparse. An outfit called Triad, she recalled. She assumed it was some sort of corporation looking to turn the place into a hotel or a mini resort.

Which didn't explain why they'd invited the manager of The Gallery but not the owner and his interfering wife. Nupur would have passed on the evening. She didn't have a date—just another aspect of her life that currently sucked—and driving alone into the mountains to a house straight out of horror movie on the strength of an invitation that made her uneasy wasn't on her list of fun things to do in the middle of the workweek.

But if she could score a few clients, it might offset the coffee mishap and the bimbo comment.

Her car chugged up the narrowing road that cut through the dense, dark forest.

She had to be close. How far could any single road climb before it just had to start falling down the other side of the mountain? She knew Warrior's Peak stood atop the ridge, guarding the valley below. She hadn't passed another car for miles.

The road forked, and the bend on the right streamed between enormous stone pillars. Nupur slowed, gawked at the life-size warriors standing on each pillar. Perhaps it was the storm, the night, or her own jittery mood, but they looked more human than stone, with hair flying around their fierce faces, their hands gripping the hilts of their swords. In the shimmer of lightning she could almost see muscles rippling in their arms, over their broad, bare chests. She had to fight the temptation to get out of the car for a closer look. But the chill that tripped down her spine as she turned through the open iron gates had her glancing back up at the warriors with as much wariness as appreciation for the skill of the sculptor. Then she hit the brakes and fishtailed on the crushed stone of the roadbed. Her heart jammed into her throat as she stared at the stunning buck standing arrogantly a foot in front of the bumper, with the sprawling, eccentric lines of the house behind him.

For a moment she took the deer for a sculpture as well, though why any sane person would set a sculpture in the center of a driveway was beyond her. Then again,sane didn't seem to be the operative word for anyone who would choose to live in the house on the ridge. But the deer's eyes gleamed, a sharp sapphire blue in the beam of her headlights, and his head with the great crowning rack turned slightly. Regally, Nupur mused, mesmerized. Rain streamed off his coat, and in the next flash of light that coat seemed as white as the moon. He stared at her, but there was nothing of fear, nothing of surprise in those glinting eyes. Then he simply walked away, through the curtain of rain and fog, and was gone. "Wow." She let out a long breath, shivered in the warmth of her car. "And one more wow," she murmured as she stared at the house. Something between a castle, a fortress, and a house of horrors, she decided.

She stopped the car in front of the stone skirt of a wide portico and considered, very seriously, turning back into the storm and driving away. She called herself a coward, a childish idiot. She asked herself where she'd lost her sense of adventure and fun. At the quick rap on her window, a scream shot out of her throat. The bony white face surrounded by a black hood that peered in at her turned the scream into a kind of breathless keening. Gargoyles do not come to life, she assured herself, repeating the words over and over in her head as she rolled the window down a cautious half inch.

"Welcome to Warrior's Peak." His voice boomed over the rain, and his welcoming smile showed a great many teeth. "If you'll just leave your keys in the car, miss, I'll see to it for you." Before she could think to slap down the locks, he'd pulled her door open. He blocked the sweep of wind and rain with his body and the biggest umbrella she'd ever seen. "I'll see you safe and dry to the door." What was that accent? English? Irish? Scots?

"Thank you." She said as she climbed out. The double entrance doors with knockers of dragons' heads. Some welcome, Nupur thought an instant before one of the doors opened, and light and warmth poured out.

The woman had a straight and gorgeous stream of flame-colored hair—it spilled around a pale face of perfect angles and curves. Her green eyes danced as if at some private joke. She was tall and slim, garbed in a long gown of fluid black. A silver amulet holding a fat, clear stone hung between her breasts. Her lips, as red as her hair, curved as she held out a hand sparkling with rings. She looked, Nupur thought, like someone out of a very sexy faerie tale. "Miss Bhushan. Welcome. Such a thrilling storm, but distressing, I'm sure, to be out in it. Come in." The hand was warm and strong, and stayed clasped over Nupur's as the woman drew her into the entrance hall.

The light showered down from a chandelier of crystal so fine that it resembled spun sugar sparkling over the twists and curves of silver. The floor was mosaic, depicting the warriors from the gate and what seemed to be a number of mythological figures. She couldn't kneel down and study it as she might have liked and was already struggling to hold back an orgasmic moan at the paintings that crowded walls the color of melted butter. "I'm so glad you could join us tonight," the woman continued. "I'm Rowena. Please, let me take you into the parlor. There's a lovely fire. Early in the year for one, but the storm seemed to call for it. Was the drive difficult?"

N - "Challenging. Miss—"

Ro - "Rowena. Just Rowena."

N -"Rowena. I wonder if I could take a moment to freshen up before joining the other guests?"

Ro -"Of course. Powder room." She gestured to a door tucked under the long sweep of the front stairs. "The parlor is the first door on your right. Take your time."

N -"Thank you." Nupur slipped inside and immediately decided that "powder room" She admired the craftsmanship of the space before digging out her compact.

There was little she could do for her hair. Though she'd drawn it back and anchored it at her nape with a rhinestone clip, the weather had played havoc with the dark black curls. It was a look, she thought, as she dusted her nose. Sort of arty and carefree. Not elegant like the redhead, but it suited her well enough. She reapplied her lipstick, satisfied that the pale rose had been a good investment. Subtle worked best with her coloring. She'd paid too much for the cocktail suit. Of course. But a woman was entitled to a few weaknesses, she reminded herself as she straightened the slim satin lapels. Besides, the slate blue was right for her, and the tailored lines pulled it all together into a style both professional and elegant. She closed her bag, lifted her chin.

"Okay, Nups, let's go drum up some business." She stepped out, forced herself not to tiptoe back down the hall to drool over the paintings. Her heels clicked briskly on the tile. She always enjoyed the sound of it. Powerful. Female. And when she stepped through the first arch to the right, the thrilled gasp escaped before she could block it.

She'd never seen its like, in or out of a museum. Antiques so lovingly tended that their surfaces gleamed like mirrors; the rich, deep colors that demonstrated an artist's flair; rugs, pillows, and draperies that were as much art forms as the paintings and statuary were. She wanted to spend hours there, to wallow in all that marvelous color and light. The uneasy woman who had huddled in her car in the rain was long forgotten.

"It took five minutes for my eyes to stop bugging out of my head after I walked in."

Nupur jolted, then turned and stared at the woman who stood framed in the side window.

This one was a brunette, with dense brown hair skimming between her jawline and shoulders in a stylish swing. She was perhaps a few inches taller than Nupur's compact five-four, and had the lush curves to match the height. Both were set off with trim black pants and a knee-length jacket worn over a snug white top. She held a champagne flute in one hand and extended the other as she walked across the room. Nupur saw that her eyes were deep, dark brown and direct. Her nose was narrow and straight, her mouth wide and unpainted.

G -"I'm Gunjan. Gunjan Mehra."

N -"Nupur Bhushan. Nice to meet you. Great jacket."

G -"Thanks. I was pretty relieved when I saw you drive up. It's a hell of a place, but I was getting a little spooked rattling around by myself. It's nearly quarter after." She tapped the face of her watch. "You'd think some of the other guests would be here by now."

N -"Where's the woman who met me at the door? Rowena?"

Gunjan pursed her lips as she glanced back toward the archway.

G -"She glides in and out, looking gorgeous and mysterious. I'm told our host will be joining us shortly."

N -"Who is our host?"

G -"Your guess is as good as mine. Haven't I seen you? In the Valley?"

N -"Possibly. I manage The Gallery." For the time being, she thought.

G -"That's it. I've come to a couple of showings there. And sometimes I just wander in and look around avariciously. I'm at the library. A reference librarian." They both turned as Rowena glided in.

Ro -"I see you've introduced yourselves. Lovely. What can I get you to drink, Miss Bhushan?"

N -"I'll have what she's having."

Ro -"Perfect." Even as she spoke, a uniformed maid came in bearing two flutes on a silver tray. "Please help yourselves to the canaps and make yourselves at home."

G - "I hope the weather isn't keeping your other guests away,"

Rowena merely smiled. "I'm sure everyone who's expected will be here shortly. If you'll excuse me just another moment."

G -"Okay, this is just weird." As she picked a canap at random, discovered it was a lobster puff. "Delicious, but weird."

N -"Fascinating." Nupur sipped her champagne and trailed her fingers over a bronze sculpture of a reclining faerie.

G -"I'm still trying to figure out why I got an invitation, no one else at the library got one. No one else I know got one, for that matter. I'm starting to wish I'd talked my brother into coming with me after all. He's got a good bullshit barometer."

Nupur found herself grinning. "You don't sound like any librarian I've ever known. You don't look like one either."

Gunjan gave a little shrug. Restless, moving toward irritated, she tapped her fingers on the crystal flute. "I'm going to give this about ten more minutes, then I'm booking."

N -"If you go, I go. I'd feel better heading back into that storm if I drove to the Valley behind someone else."

G -"Same goes." gunjan frowned toward the window, watched the rain beat on the other side of the glass. "Crappy night. And it was an extremely crappy day. Driving all the way here and back in this mess for a couple of glasses of wine and some canaps just about caps it."

N -"You too? I only came tonight in hopes of making some contacts for The Gallery. Job insurance," she added, lifting her glass in a mock toast. "As my job is currently in a very precarious state."

G -"Mine too. Between budget cuts and nepotism, my position was 'adjusted,' my hours trimmed back to twenty-five a week. How the hell am I supposed to live on that? And my landlord just announced that my rent's going up first of next month."

N -"There's a rattle in my car—and I spent my auto-maintenance budget on these shoes."

Gunjan looked down, pursed her lips. "Terrific shoes. My computer crashed this morning."

Enjoying herself, Nupur turned away from the painting and raised a brow at Gunjan. "I called my boss's new wife a bimbo and then spilled Coffee on her designer suit."

G -"Okay, you win. What do you say we hunt up the Welsh goddess and find out what's going on around here?"

N -"Is that what the accent is? Welsh?"

G - "Gorgeous, isn't it? But be that as it may, I think…"

She trailed off as they heard that distinctive click of high heels on tile.

The first thing Nupur noticed was the hair. It was jet black and long, with thick bangs beneath them, the tawny eyes were large and long. She had a triangular face, glowing with what might have been excitement, nerves, or excellent cosmetics.

The way her fingers kneaded at her little black bag, Nupur went with the nerves.

She wore red, stoplight red, in an abbreviated dress that clung to her curvy body and showed off terrific legs. The heels that had clicked along the tile were a good four inches high and sharp as stilettos.

"Hi." Her voice was breathy and her gaze was already flicking around the room. "Um. She said I should come right in."

G -"Join the party. Such as it is. Gunjan Mehra, and my equally baffled companion this evening, Nupur Bhushan."

R - "I'm Ridhima Gupta." She took another cautious step into the room, as if she was waiting for someone to tell her there'd been a mistake and boot her out again. "Holy cow. This place, it's like a movie. It's, um, beautiful and all, but I keep expecting that scary guy in the smoking jacket to come in."

Nupur said with a grin. "I take it you don't know any more about what's going on than we do."

R -"No. I think I got invited by mistake, but—" She broke off, ogling a bit when a servant entered with another flute on a tray. "Ah… thanks." She took the crystal gingerly, then just smiled down at the bubbling wine. "Champagne. It has to be a mistake. But I couldn't pass up the chance to come. Where is everybody else?"

G -"Good question. Are you from the Valley?"

R -"Yes. Well, for the last couple years."

N -"Three for three, Do you know anyone else who got an invitation for tonight?"

R - "No. In fact, I asked around, which is probably why I got fired today. Is that food just to take?"

N -"You got fired?" she exchanged a look with Gunjan. "Three for three."

R -"Carly—she owns the salon where I work. Worked, She heard me talking about it with one of my customers and got bent out of shape." Her voice had lost its breathiness now, and as she appeared to relax. "Anyway, Carly's been gunning for me for months. I guess the invite, seeing as she didn't get one, put her nose out of joint. Next thing I know, she's saying there's twenty missing from the till. I never stole anything in my life. Bitch." She took another, more enthusiastic gulp of champagne. "And then bam ! I'm out on my ear. Doesn't matter. It's not going to matter. I'll get another job. I hated working there anyway. God."

It mattered, Nupur thought. The sparkle in Ridhima's eyes that had as much fear to it as anger said it mattered a great deal.

N - "You're a hairdresser."

R -"Yeah. Hair and skin consultant, if you want to get snooty. I'm not the type who gets invited to fancy parties at fancy places, so I guess it's a mistake."

N - "I don't think someone like Rowena makes mistakes. Ever."

R - "Well, I don't know. I wasn't going to come, then I thought it would cheer me up. Then my car wouldn't start, again. I had to borrow the baby-sitter's."

G -"You have a baby?"

R -"He's not a baby anymore. Sahil's nine. He's great. I wouldn't worry about the job, but I've got a kid to support. And I didn't steal any goddamn twenty dollars— or twenty cents, for that matter. I'm not a thief." She caught herself, flushed scarlet. "Sorry. I'm sorry. Bubbles loosening my tongue, I guess."

G -"Don't worry about it." As she rubbed a hand up and down Ridhima's arm. "You want to hear something strange? My job, and my paycheck, just got cut to the bone. I don't know what the hell I'm going to do. And Nupur thinks she's about to get the axe at her job."

R-"Really?" Looking from one face to the other. "That's just weird."

"And nobody we know was invited here tonight." With a wary glance toward the doorway,

Nupur lowered her voice. "From the looks of things, we're it."

G -"I'm a librarian, you're a hairdresser, she runs an art gallery. What do we have in common?"

N -"We're all out of work." frowning. "Or the next thing to it. That alone is strange when you consider the Valley's got a population of about ten thousand. What are the odds of three women hitting a professional wall the same day in the same little town? Next, we're all from the Valley. We're all female, Indian about the same age? Twenty-eight."

G -"Twenty-seven,"

R -"Twenty-six—twenty-seven in December. This is just too strange." Her eyes widened as she looked at her half-empty glass, and she set it hastily aside. "You don't think there's anything in there that shouldn't be, do you?"

G -"I don't think we're going to be drugged and sold into white slavery." Gunjan's tone was dry, but she set her glass down as well. "People know we're here, right? My brother knows where I am, and people at work."

N - "My boss, his wife. Your ex-boss, Your baby-sitter. Anyway, this is America, for God's sake, not, I don't know, Zimbabwe."

G -"I say we go find the mysterious Rowena and get some answers. We stick together, right?" Gunjan nodded at Nupur, then Ridhima swallowed.

R - "Honey, I'm your new best friend." To seal it, she took Gunjan's hand, then Nupur's.

"How lovely to see you." Their hands were still joined as they turned and looked at the man who stood in the archway. He smiled, stepped inside the room. "Welcome to Warrior's Peak."

For a moment Nupur thought one of the warriors from the gate had come to life. He had the same fierce male beauty in his face, the same powerful build. His hair, black as the storm, waved back in wings from that strong, sculpted face.

His eyes were midnight blue. She felt the power of them, a flash of heat along her skin, when they met hers. She wasn't a fanciful woman. Anything but, she told herself. But the storm, the house, the sheer ferocity of that gaze made her feel as though he could see everything in her mind. Everything that had ever been in her mind.

Then his gaze left hers, and the moment passed.

P -"I am Pitte. Thank you for gracing what is, for now, our home."

He took Nupur's free hand, lifted it to his lips. His touch was cool, the gesture both courtly and dignified. "Miss Bhushan." She felt Gunjan's fingers go lax on hers, then Pitte was moving to her, lifting her fingers in turn. "Miss Gupta." And Gunjan's. "Miss Mehra."

nice ff cont soon

VERY VERY IMPORTANT ALL FANS MUST READ THIS.

Guys don't watch repeat telecast either, if you have to then watch online.

A fight does not have to be full of hate. We are fighting for respect, with respect. Please don't be too rude or hateful because they will not listen to you like that.

So please be clear and concise, and if you have suggestions do say them.

LINKS:

STAR ONE FEEDBACK LINK:

http:/app.indya.com/feedback/feedback.asp?channel=starone

here is a currently successful petition, on bring RATI BACK! (If you're interested in that) i know, i know it so saas-bahuish, but come on, she can be mistaken dead as well....... guys there can be a high change, so go for it!!!

http:/www.gopetition.com/petitions/bring-rati-pandey-back-in-mjht-html

this is a link to there fan mail:

mjhtfanmail@gmail.com

Also you can comment on facebook page

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Miley-Jab-Hum-Tum/66684394305

A petition to keep Nupur alive!

http://www.gopetition.com/petitions/keep-nupur-alive-for-mayank-and-mayurians.html

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GO TO THESE SITES AND SUPPORT OUR RATI AND WE MUST BRING BACK OUR RATI AS NUPUR IN MJHT.

ONLY 3 DAYS LEFT FOR US. ON THE SPECIAL EPISODE ON SATURDAY IT IS GOING TO SHOW THAT NUPUR'S DEAD BODY AND HER FUNERAL. SO FANS ITS TIME FOR STRUGGLE FOR ALL OF US. COME ON DON'T WASTE THE TIME. LET UNITE TOGETHER TO BRING OUR RATI AS NUPUR BACK IN MJHT.

Chapter Two

A boom of thunder had Nupur jolting, and her hand groped for Ridhima's again. He was just a man and it was just a house. She assured herself.

N - "You have an interesting home, Mr. Pitte,"

P -"Yes. Won't you sit? Ah, Rowena. You've met my companion." He took Rowena's arm when she came to his side. They fit, Nupur decided, like two halves of a coin.

Ro -"By the fire, I think," gesturing toward the fireplace. "Such a fierce night. Let's be comfortable."

G-"I think we'd be more comfortable if we understood what's going on." planted her high-heeled boots and stood her ground. "Why we were asked here."

Ro -"Certainly. But the fire's so lovely. There's nothing quite like good champagne, good fellowship, and a nice fire on a stormy night. Tell me, Miss Bhushan, what do you think of what you've seen of our art collection?"

N -"Impressive. Eclectic." With a glance back at Gunjan, Nupur let Rowena lead her toward a chair near the fire. "You must have spent considerable time on it."

Rowena's laugh rippled like fog over water. "Oh, considerable. Pitte and I appreciate beauty, in all its forms. In fact, you could say we revere it. As you must, given your choice of profession."

N -"Art is its own reason."

Ro -"Yes. It's the light in every shadow. And Pitte, we must make certain Miss Mehra sees the library before the evening's over. I hope you'll approve.What would the world be without books?"

G -"Books are the world." Curious, cautious, Gunjan sat.

Rid -"I think there's been a mistake." she hung back, looking from face to face. "I don't know anything about art. Not real art. And books—I mean, I read, but—"

P -"Please, sit. Be at home. I trust your son is well." She stiffened, and those tawny eyes went tiger-bright.

Rid - "Sahil's fine."

P -"Motherhood's a kind of art, don't you think, Miss Gupta? A work in progress of the most essential, most vital kind. One that requires valor and heart."

Rid -"Do you have children?"

P -"No. I haven't been given that gift." His hand brushed Rowena's as he spoke, then he lifted his glass. "To life. And all its mysteries." His eyes gleamed over the rim of the glass. "There's no need to fear. No one here wishes you anything but health, happiness, and success."

G -"Why?You don't know us, though you seem to know a great deal more about us than we do about you."

P -"You're a seeker, Miss Mehra. An intelligent, straightforward woman who looks for answers."

G -"I'm not getting any." He smiled.

P - "It's my fondest hope that you'll find all the answers. To begin, I'd like to tell you a story. It seems a night for stories."

His voice was musical and strong, faintly exotic. The sort,designed for telling tales on stormy nights. Because of it, Nupur relaxed a little. What else did she have to do, after all, besides sit in a fantastic house by a roaring fire and listen to a strange, handsome man weave a tale while she sipped champagne? It beat eating takeout while reconciling her checkbook hands down. And if she could wheedle a tour of the place, and nudge Pitte toward The Gallery as a vehicle to expand his art collection, she might just save her job. So she settled back as well and prepared to enjoy herself.

P - "Long ago, in a land of great mountains and rich forests, lived a young god. He was his parents' only child, and well beloved. He was gifted with a handsome face and strength of heart and muscle. He was destined to rule one day, so he was reared to be the god-king, cool in judgment, swift in action. There was peace in this world, since gods had walked there. Beauty, music and art, stories and dance were everywhere. For as long as memory—and a god's memory is infinite—there had been harmony and balance in this place. From behind the Curtain of Power, through the veil of the Curtain of Dreams, they would look on the world of mortals. Lesser gods were permitted to mix and mate with those of the mortal realm at their whim, and so became the faeries and sprites, the sylphs and other creatures of magic. Some found the mortal world more to their tastes and peopled it. Some, of course, were corrupted by the powers, by the world of mortals, and turned to darker ways. Such is the way of nature, even of gods.You've heard stories of magic and sorcery, the faerie tales and fantasies. As one of the guardians of stories and books, Miss Gupta, do you consider how such tales become part of the culture, what root of truth they spring from?"

G - "To give someone, or something, a power greater than our own. To feed our need for heroes and villains and romance." shrugged, though she was already fascinated. "If, for instance, Arthur of the Celts existed as a warrior king, as many scholars and scientists believe, how much more enthralling, more potent, is his image if we see him in Camelot, with Merlin. If he was conceived with the aid of sorcery, and crowned high king as a young boy who pulled a magic sword out of a stone."

Rid -"I love that story,Well, except for the end. It seemed so unfair. But I think…"

P -"Please, go on."

Rid -"Well, I sort of think that maybe magic did exist once, before we educated ourselves out of it. I don't mean education's bad, I just mean maybe we, um, locked it away because we started needing logical and scientific answers for everything."

Ro -"Well said.A child often tucks his toys in the back of the closet, forgetting the wonder of them as he grows to manhood. Do you believe in wonder, Miss Gupta?"

Rid-"I have a nine-year-old son,All I have to do is look at him to believe in wonder. I wish you'd call me Ridhima."

Rowena's face lit with warmth. "Thank you. Pitte?"

P -"Ah, yes, to continue the tale. As was the tradition, upon reaching his majority the young god was sent beyond the Curtain for one week, to walk among the mortals, to learn their ways, to study their weaknesses and strengths, their virtues and flaws. It happened that he saw a young woman, a maid of great beauty and virtue. And seeing, loved, and loving, wanted. And though she was denied to him by the rules of his world, he pined for her. He grew listless, restless, unhappy. He would not eat or drink, nor did he find any appeal in all the young goddesses offered to him. His parents, disturbed at seeing their son so distressed, weakened. They would not give their son to the mortal world, but they brought the maid to theirs."

N -"They kidnapped her?!"

Ro -"They could have done. But love cannot be stolen. It's a choice. And the young god wished for love."

G - "Did he get it?"

P -"The mortal maid chose, and loved, and gave up her world for his. There was anger in the worlds of gods, of mortals, and in that mystical half-world of the faeries. No mortal was to pass through the Curtain. Yet that most essential rule was now broken. A mortal woman had been taken from her world and into theirs, married to their future king for no reason more important than love."

N -"What's more important than love?"

P -"Some would say nothing, others would say honor, truth, loyalty. Others did, and for the first time in the memory of the gods, there was dissension, rebellion. The balance was shaken. The young god-king, crowned now, was strong and withstood this. And the mortal maid was beautiful and true. Some were swayed to accept her, and others plotted in secret.Battles fought in the open could be quelled, but others were devised in secret chambers, and these ate at the foundation of the world. It came to pass that the god-king's wife bore three children, three daughters, demigoddesses with mortal souls. On their birth, their father gifted each with a jeweled amulet, for protection. They learned the ways of their father's world, and of their mother's. Their beauty, their innocence, softened many hearts, turned many minds. For some years there was peace again. And the daughters grew to young women, devoted to each other, each with a talent that enhanced and completed those of her sisters.They harmed no one, brought only light and beauty to both sides of the Curtain. But there remained shadows. One coveted what they had that no god could claim. Through sorcery, through envy, despite all precautions, they were taken into the half-world. The spell cast plunged them into eternal sleep, a living death. And sleeping, they were sent back through the Curtain, their mortal souls locked in a box that has three keys. Not even their father's power can break the locks. Until the keys turn, one, by two, by three, the daughters are trapped in an enchanted sleep and then-souls weep in a prison of glass."

N -"Where are the keys?And why can't the box be opened by enchantment since it was locked by it?"

P -"Where they are is a puzzle. Many magicks and spells have been cast to unlock the box, all have failed—but there are clues. The souls are mortal, and only mortal hands can turn the keys."

N -"My invitation said I was the key."Nupur glanced at Gunjan and Ridhima, got nods of confirmation."What do we have to do with some mythological legend?"

P -"I have something to show you. I hope it interests you."

Pitte rose, gestured toward the archway. They began to walk along with Pitte and Rowena. He turned toward another archway.

P -"I hope you'll understand and appreciate this particular piece of it."

Over another fireplace that roared with flame was a painting that towered to the ceiling.

The colors were so vivid, so rich, the style so bold and strong, that Nupur's art lover's heart took one fast leap. The portrait was of three women, young, beautiful, in flowing gowns of sapphire, of ruby, of emerald. The one in blue, with Black curls rioting to her waist, sat on a bench that circled a pool. She held a small gold harp. Seated on the silver tiles at her feet, the girl in red had a scroll and quill in her lap and her hand on her

sister's— for surely they were sisters—knee. Beside them, the girl in green stood, a chubby black puppy in the crook of her arm and a short silver sword at her hip. A heartbreak of flowers spilled around them. There were trees with jeweled fruit dripping from the branches, and in the cerulean sky both birds and faeries were on the wing.

Enthralled, Nupur was halfway across the room for a closer look when her heart gave another, harder knock. The girl in blue had her face.Younger, she thought as she came to an abrupt halt. Certainly more beautiful. The skin was luminous, the eyes deeper, the hair more luxurious and romantic. But there was no mistaking the power of the resemblance, nor, she saw as she steadied herself, the resemblance between the others in the portrait and the other two guests at Warrior's Peak.

Rid - "They look like us. How can they?" There was wonder in the words as Ridhima moved beside Nupur.

G -"Good question." And suspicion in Gunjan's. "How did the three of us come to be used as models for what is, obviously, a portrait of the three sisters in the story you just told us?"

P -"It was painted before you were born. Before your parents, your grandparents, and those who sired them were born."

Rowena walked toward the portrait, stood below it with her hands folded at her waist.

Ro -"Its age can be verified through tests. Isn't that so, Nupur?"

N -"Yes. Its approximate age can be authenticated, but whatever its age, you haven't answered Ridhima's question."

The smile that spread on Rowena's face seemed to hold both approval and amusement.

P -"No, I haven't. What else do you see in the painting?"

Nupur reached in her purse, took out a pair of black-framed, rectangular glasses. She slipped them on and made a more thorough study.

N -"A key, in the right corner of the sky. It seems to be a bird until you look closely. A second one there, on the branch of a tree, almost hidden by the leaves and fruit. And the third, just visible under the surface of the pool. There's a shadow there, in the trees. In the form of a man, maybe a woman. Just the hint of something dark watching them. Another shadow, just sliding onto the silver tile at the edge. A snake. Ah, and here, in the far background. There's a couple—a man and a woman—embracing. The woman is robed, richly, with the purple symbolizing a woman of rank. And the man is garbed like a soldier. A warrior. There's a raven in the tree just above them. A symbol of impending doom. Just as the sky here is darker, with storm lights. A threat. The sisters are unaware of the threat. They look forward, grouped together, the crown of their ranks glinting in the sunlight that washes this area of the foreground. There's a sense of companionship and affection between them, and the white dove here, on the edge of the pool, is their purity. Each wears an amulet, the same shape and size, with the jewel reflecting the color of their gown. They are a unit, yet individuals. It's magnificent work. You can almost see them breathe."

P -"You have a discerning eye. It's the prize of the collection."

G -"And still, you haven't answered the question."

P -"Magic couldn't break the spell that locked the souls of the king's daughters in a box of glass. Sorcerers were called, and wizards and witches from all the worlds. But no magicks could unbind the curse. So another was cast. In this world, in every generation, three women are born who will come together in one place, at one time. They are not sisters, they are not gods, but mortal women. And they are the only ones who can release the innocents."

G -"And you want us to believe that we're those women?" her brows arched. There was a tickle in her throat, but it didn't feel like laughter. "That we just happen to look like the women in this painting?"

P -"Nothing just happens. And whether you believe or not changes little.You are the chosen, and I am charged to tell you."

G - "Well, you've told us, so now—"

P -"And to make you this offer.You will each have, in turn, one phase of the moon to find one of the three keys. If within the twenty-eight days the first fails, the matter is

done. If the first succeeds, the second's time begins. But if the second fails within her time, the matter is done. If all three keys are brought to this place, before the end of the third moon, you will be given a boon."

Rid -"What sort of boon?"

P -"One million dollars. Each."

G -"Get out of town! Oh, come on, ladies. This is just screwy. Easy for him to toss money around like confetti when we'd be off on some wild-goose chase for a trio of keys that don't exist in the first place."

Rid -"And if they did— If they did, wouldn't you want a chance to find them? The chance for that kind of money?"

G -"What chance? It's a great big world out there. How do you expect to find a little gold key?"

Ro-"You will be given, each in turn, a guide." Rowena gestured to a small chest. "This we can do, if all agree. You may work together. In fact, we hope that you will. You must all agree. If one refuses the challenge, it's done. If all accept the challenge and the terms, you'll each be given twenty-five thousand dollars. It remains yours whether you fail or succeed."

N -"Wait a minute, wait a minute.You're saying if we agree to look for these keys, just to look for them, we get twenty-five K? Free and clear?"

P -"The amount will be deposited in an account of your choosing. Immediately,"

Rid -"Oh, my God! This has got to be a dream."

G -"A scam, you mean. What's the catch? What's the fine print?"

P -"If you fail, any one of you, the penalty for all will be a year of your lives."

N -"What, like in jail?"

Ro -"No. A year of your life will not exist."

G -"Poof! Like magic."

Ro -"The keys exist. Not in this house, but in this world, this place. This we are able to do. More we are not allowed to say, although we may offer a little guidance. The quest isn't simple, so you will be rewarded for the attempt. Should you succeed, the reward is greater. Should you fail, there is penalty. Please, take this time to discuss it. Pitte and I will give you some privacy."

They walked out of the room, and Rowena turned back to slide the wide pocket doors shut.

G -"This, is a nuthouse. And if either of you is actually considering playing along with these fruitcakes, you belong in this nuthouse."

N -"Let me just say one thing. Twenty-five thousand dollars. Each."

G -"You don't really believe they're going to plunk down seventy-five large because we say, oh, sure, we'll look for the keys. The ones that unlock the box holding the souls of a trio of demigoddesses."

N - "Only one way to find out."

Rid -"They look like us. So much like us."

G -"Yes, they do, and that's just creepy. Why paint the three of us together that way? We've never met before tonight. And the idea of somebody watching us, taking pictures or sketches or whatever so they could put this portrait together, spooks me."

N - "It wasn't something painted on a whim, or quickly. It's a masterpiece— If this is a scam, it's an elaborate one. Plus, what's the point? I'm broke. You?"

G - "Close enough."

Rid -"I've got some savings, But I'm going to go through them pretty quick if I don't get another job, and fast. I don't know a lot about it, but it doesn't look like these people would be after the little bit of money we've got. Look, you all don't know me, and you've got no reason to care, but I could really use this money. Twenty-five thousand would be like a miracle. Security for my son, a chance maybe to do what I've always wanted. Have my own little salon. All we have to do is say yes. So we look for some keys. It's not illegal."

G -"There are no keys!"

Rid -"What if there are? I have to say, the idea of twenty-five thousand dollars really helps open my mind to possibilities. And a million?" She gave a quick, baffled

laugh. "I can't even think about it. It makes my stomach hurt."

N -"It'd be like a treasure hunt, It could be fun. God knows, it could be profitable.

Twenty-five thousand would really close the gap for me, and that's a very practical priority just now. I might be able to have my own place, too. Not like The Gallery, but just a little place that spotlights artists and craftspeople."

It was a full ten years before that was due in the order of her life plan, but she could be flexible.

G -"Nothing's that simple. Nobody hands you money because you say you'll do something. There's got to be more under all this."

N -"Maybe they believe it. The story, If you believed it, twenty-five thousand would be chump change. We're talking souls here.A soul's worth more than twenty-five thousand dollars."

Excitement bounced inside her like a bright red ball. She'd never had an adventure, certainly not a paying adventure. "They've got money, they're eccentric, and they believe it. The fact is, going along with it sort of feels like we're the ones pulling the scam. But I'm going to get over that."

Rid - "You'll do it?" she grabbed her arm. "You're going to do it?"

N -"It's not every day you get paid to work for the gods. Come on, Gunjan, loosen up." Gunjan's brows drew together, her forehead forming a stubborn, vertical line between them.

G -"It's asking for trouble. I don't know where or how, but it just feels like trouble."

N -"What would you do with twenty-five thousand?"

G - "Invest what I could so I could have my own little bookstore. I'd serve tea in the afternoons, wine in the evenings. Have readings. Oh, boy. It's strange how we're all having a job crisis, and that the thing we all want is to have our own place?"

Rid - "Don't you think it's strange?"

G -"No more strange than being here in this fortress and talking about going on a treasure hunt. Well, I'm in a fix, I say no, it kills it for both of you. Saying yes makes me feel like an idiot. I guess I'm an idiot."

Rid - "Yes?" With a hoot of laughter, Ridhima threw her arms around Gunjan. "This is great! This is amazing!"

G -"Take it easy." Chuckling, Gunjan patted Ridhima on the back. "I guess this is the time to pull out the right quote. 'One for all, and all for one.' "

N -"I got a better one. Show me the money. "

As if on cue, the doors opened. Rowena entered first.

Ro- "Shall we sit?"

Rid -"We've decided to accept the…The challenge."

P -"Yes. You'll want to look over the contracts."

N -"Contracts?"

P -"Naturally. A name has power. The writing of one's name, the promise of it, is necessary for all. Once you're satisfied, we'll select for the first key."

Pitte took papers out of a desk, handed one set to each woman. "They're simple, I believe, and cover the terms already discussed. If you'll write in where you wish the money to be sent, it will be done."

N -"Doesn't it matter to you that we don't believe in them?" she lifted a hand toward the portrait.

Ro -"You'll give your word that you'll accept the terms. That's enough for now,"

G - "Pretty straightforward for such an odd business," Pitte handed her a pen.

P -"As you are straightforward. If and when your turn comes, I know you'll do all

you can."

Lightning sizzled along the window glass as the contracts were signed, then countersigned.

Ro -"You are the chosen, Now it's in your hands. Pitte?"

He walked back to the desk, picked up a carved box.

P -"Inside are three disks. One has a figure of a key. The one who chooses that disk begins the quest."

Rid -"I hope it's not me." With a shaky laugh, she wiped her damp palms on her skirt. "I'm sorry, I'm just really nervous." She closed her eyes, reached into the box. Keeping the disk clutched in her fist, she looked at the others. "Let's all look at the same time. Okay?"

G - "Fine. Here goes." reaching in, kept the disk palmed against her side as Nupur reached for the final one.

N -"Okay." They stood in a circle, facing each other. Then held out the disks.

N - "Wow. Lucky me," she whispered as she saw the gold key etched into the white disk she had selected.

Ro -"You are the first, Your time starts at sunrise tomorrow and ends at

midnight on the twenty-eighth day thereafter."

N -"But I get a guide, right. A map or something?"

Rowena opened the small chest and withdrew a paper, which she offered to Nupur. She then spoke the words written on it.

Ro -"You must seek beauty, and truth and courage. One alone will never stand. Two without the third is incomplete. Search within and know what you have yet to know. Find what the dark covets most. Search without, where the light conquers shadows, as love conquers sorrow. Silver tears fall for the song she makes there, for it springs from souls. Look beyond and between, see where beauty blooms and the

goddess sings. There may be fear, there may be grief, but the true heart vanquishes both. When you find what you seek, love will break the spell, and the heart will forge the key and bring it to light."

N - "That's it? That's supposed to be a clue?"

Rid -"I'm so glad I didn't have to go first,"

N - "Wait—can't you tell me anything else? You and Pitte already know where the keys are, right?"

Ro -"This is all we are allowed to give you, but you have all you need to have. Blessings on you."

Later Rowena stood, letting the fire warm her hands as she stared up at the painting. She felt Pitte come in to stand behind her, turned her face into his hand when he touched her cheek.

P -"I had higher hopes before they came,"

Ro -"They're bright, resourceful. None are chosen who aren't capable."

P -"Yet we remain in this place, year by century by millennium."

Ro -"Don't." She turned, slid her arms around his waist, pressed herself to him. "Don't despair, my dearest love, before it really begins."

P -"So many beginnings, but never an end." He bent his head, touched his lips to her brow. "How this place crowds me."

Ro -"We've done all that can be done." She laid her cheek on his chest, comforted by the steady sound of his heartbeat. "Have a little faith. I liked them," she added, and took his hand as they started toward the doors.

P - "They're interesting enough. For mortals,"

As they passed through the archway, the roaring fire vanished and the lights snapped off, leaving behind a trail of gold in the dark.

Chapter Three

She couldn't say she hadn't seen it coming. And Rahul was certainly gentle, even paternal. But the boot was the boot however it was administered. Being prepared, even having the miraculous cushion of the twenty-five thousand dollars now tucked away in her account—a fact that she had confirmed that morning— didn't make being fired any less horrible and humiliating.

R -"Things change." natty as always in his bow tie and rimless glasses, spoke in

modulated tones. In all the years Nupur had known him, she'd never heard him raise his voice. He could be absentminded, occasionally negligent about practicalities when it came to business, but he was unfailingly kind. Even now his face held a patient and serene expression. Though the office door was closed, the rest of The Gallery's staff would know, very shortly, the outcome of the meeting.

"I like to think of myself as a kind of surrogate father, and as such I want only the best for you."

N -"Yes. But—"

R -"If we don't move in some direction, we stand still. I feel that though this may be difficult for you initially, Nupur, you'll soon see it's the best thing that could happen." How many clichs, Nupur wondered, could one man use when lowering the boom?

N -"Rahul, I know Sheena and I haven't seen eye to eye." I'll see your clich, and raise you. "As the new kid on the block, she's bound to be a bit defensive, while I tend to be territorial. I'm so terribly sorry I lost my temper. Spilling the coffee was an accident. You know I'd never—"

R -"Now, now. I'm sure it was. I don't want you to give that another thought. Water under the bridge. But the point is, Sheena wants to take a more active role in the business, to shake things up a bit." Desperation slithered into her belly.

N -"Rahul, she moved everything in the main room, jumbled pieces in

from the salon. She brought fabric in—gold lame—and draped it over the Deco nude like a sarong. Not only was the flow interrupted by the placements, but the result was, well, just tacky. She doesn't understand art, and space. She—"

R -"Yes, yes. But she'll learn. And I believe that teaching her will be enjoyable. I appreciate her interest in my business, and her enthusiasm—just as I've always appreciated yours. But the fact is, I really think you've outgrown us here. It's time for you to stretch yourself. Broaden your horizons. Take some risks." Her throat closed, and her voice sounded thick when she managed to speak.

N -"I love The Gallery."

R -"I know you do. And you're always welcome here. I feel it's time for me to give you a nudge out of the nest. Naturally, I want you to be comfortable while you're deciding what you'd like to do next." He took a check out of his breast pocket. "A month's severance should help keep the wolf from the door."

What will I do? Where will I go? Frantic questions flew around her brain like terrified birds. He gave her an avuncular peck on the cheek, a pat on the head, then strolled out.

Patient and placid he might be, but he was also weak. Weak, and though she hated to admit it—hated to realize it after all these years—selfish. It took a selfish weakness to fire an efficient, creative, loyal employee on the whim of his wife. She knew it was useless to cry, but she cried a little anyway as she stood in the small office that she'd

decorated herself and boxed up her personal things. Her lifetime, career-wise, fit into a single storage box. That was efficient again, practical. And, Nupur decided, pathetic.

It terrified her, but marching along with the fear was pride. So, she repaired her makeup and kept her chin up, her shoulders back, as she carried the box out of the office and down the stairs. She did her best to muster up a smile when Benji rushed to the base of the stairs. He was trim, clad in his signature white shirt and pants. He'd started at The Gallery the year after Nupur arrived and had been her friend, confidant, and bitching partner ever since.

B-"Don't go. We'll kill the bimbo. A little arsenic in her morning latte and she's history. Nups, you can't leave me here."

N -"I got the boot. A month's severance, a pat on the head, and a pack of homilies."

B –"I can't stand it! Nothing's going to be the same without you here. Who will I gossip with, who'll soothe my broken heart when some bitch breaks it? You notice this is all about me." He made her laugh.

N -"You'll still be my best bud, right?"

B -"Sure I will. You're not going to do something crazy, like move to the city? Or fall in with bad companions and work in a strip mall gift shop?"

A lead weight landed—ka-boom—in her stomach. Those were the only two reasonable choices she had if she was going to make a living. But, she waved them.

N -"Perish the thought. I don't know what I'm going to do, exactly. But I've got this thing—" She thought of her odd evening, and the key. "I'll tell you about it later. I've got something to keep me occupied for a while, then… I don't know, Benji. everything's out of kilter. Nothing's the way it's supposed to be, so I can't see how it will be. Getting fired was not in the Nupur Life Plan."

B -"It's just a blip,Rahul is in some sort of sexual haze. He could still come to his senses. You could sleep with him,"

N -"I have one thing to say to this suggestions. Ick."

B -"Profound, and true. How about if I come by tonight, bring you Chinese and a cheap bottle of wine?"

N -"You're a pal."

B -"We'll plot that Stupid Sheena's demise and plan your future. Want me to walk you home, sweetie?"

N -"Thanks, but I'll be fine. Give me time to clear my head. Say good-bye to… everybody. I just can't face it now."

B -"Don't you worry." She tried not to worry as she walked home. She tried to ignore the panic that dogged her with every step she took away from routine and closer to that wide, wide can-yon. She was young, educated, hardworking. She had money in the bank. Her whole life was ahead of her, like blank canvas. All she had to do was choose her paints and get on with it. But right now, she needed to think of something else. Anything else. She had a month to decide. And an intriguing task to perform in the meantime. It wasn't every day you were asked to find a mysterious key and play a part in saving souls.

She would play along with that until she figured out the rest of her life. She'd given her word, after all, so she'd best get started on keeping it. Somehow. Right after she went home and buried her sorrows in a cheese cake!

As she came to the corner, she looked back, mistily, miserably, toward The Gallery. Who was she kidding? That had been home. On a long sigh, she took a step. And landed hard on her butt. Whatever had collided with her sent her box of possessions flying, then fell on top of her. She heard a grunt, and what sounded like a yip. With the breath knocked out of her, and what felt like a minor mountain pressing on her chest, she stared up into a hairy black face.Even as she fought for the breath to scream, an enormous tongue rolled out and slurped her face.

"Moe! Stop, heel, get the hell off! Jeez. Jesus, I'm sorry."

Nupur heard the voice, the light panic in it, as she gagged and turned her head to try to avoid the tongue. Abruptly, the huge black mass pinning her down grew arms. Then a second head. This one was human, a great deal more attractive than the first, despite the sunglasses that slid down a sharp, straight nose and the grim set to the mouth.

"Are you all right? Are you hurt?" He shoved the massive weight away, then squeezed his body between them, like a defensive wall. "Can you sit up?" The question was moot, as he was already pulling her from her ungainly sprawl to a sitting position. The

dog tried to nose in but was elbowed back. "You lie down, you big sloppy idiot. Not you," he added with a quick, charming grin as he brushed Nupur's hair back from her face. "I'm sorry. He's harmless, just clumsy and stupid."

N -"What… what is it?"

M -"Moe's a dog, or that's the rumor. We think he's a cross between a cocker spaniel and a woolly mammoth. I'm really sorry. My fault. I wasn't paying enough attention, and he got away from me."

She slid her gaze to the right, where the dog, if it was a dog, was hunkered down, thumping a tail as thick as her arm and looking as innocent as anything that homely could manage.

M -"You didn't hit your head, did you?"

N -"I don't think so." She found Moe's owner staring at her with a quiet intensity that made heat rush over her skin. "What?"

She was as pretty as a bakery-shop pastry. All that tumbled hair, the top-cream skin, the rosy, bottom-heavy mouth that was in a sexy little sulk. Her eyes were big and beautiful, despite the temper flames shooting out of them. He nearly licked his lips when she scowled at him and lifted her hand to shove it through that terrific tangle of hair.

N- "What are you staring at?"

M -"Just making sure you don't have little X's in your eyes. You went down pretty hard. Great eyes, by the way. I'm Mayank."

N -"And I'm tired of sitting on the sidewalk. Do you mind?"

M -"Oh. Yeah." He stood, took both her hands in both of his, and pulled her to her feet. He was taller than she'd realized, and she automatically stepped back so she didn't have to tip her face up to keep an eye on him. The sun was streaming over his hair—a lot of thick, wavy hair. His hands were still clasping hers, firmly enough that she felt the ridge of callus on them.

M -"You sure you're all right? Steady? You went down pretty hard."

N -"I'm aware of that." Painfully aware in the portion of her anatomy that had hit the sidewalk first. She crouched and began gathering what had spilled out of the box.

M -"I'll get this stuff." He crouched beside her, then stabbed a finger at the dog who was trying to inch his way toward them with the same stealth as an elephant tiptoeing across the African plain. "Stay, or there's no treat for you."

N -"Just get your dog. I don't need any help here." She snatched up her emergency cosmetic bag, tossed it in the box. And when she saw that she'd chipped a nail, she wanted to curl into a ball of self-pity and wail. Instead, she selected the temper button."You have no business being out on a public street with a dog of that size if you can't control him. He's just a dog, he doesn't know any better, but you're supposed to."

M -"You're right. You're absolutely right. Um… this must be yours." He held out a strapless black bra. Mortified, she grabbed it out of his hand, stuffed it in the box.

N -"Go away now. Go very, very far away."

M -"Listen, why don't you let me carry that—"

N -"Carry your silly dog," she snapped and, hefting the box, strode away with as much dignity as she could muster.

Mayank watched her go as Moe lumbered over to press his considerable weight against his master's side.Absently. Mayank patted the massive head and enjoyed the indignant sway of feminine hips in a short skirt. He doubted that run in her stocking had been there before her encounter with Moe, but from his perspective it did nothing to detract from a pair of great legs.

M -"Pretty," he said aloud as she slammed into a building halfway down the block. "And pretty steamed." He glanced down at the hopefully grinning Moe. "Nice job, jerk-face."

After a hot shower, a change of clothes, and a medicinal bowl of cookie dough ice cream, Nupur headed for the library. She hadn't made any firm arrangements with her—she supposed they were her partners—the night before. As she was the first, she would have to be in charge. They needed to have some sort of meeting, to go over the clue, to plot out a plan of action. She didn't hold out any real hope of winning a million dollars, but she wasn't going to shrug it off or go back on her word.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually been in the library. For some reason, going in made her feel like a student again, full of naivet, hope, and an eagerness to learn. The main area wasn't large, there was a central island of counter. Gunjan sat there, a phone at her ear while her fingers clicked on a keyboard. Pleased that she wouldn't have to search the building to find her, Nupur walked over. She wagged her fingers as Gunjan nodded at her and finished the call.

G -"I was hoping you'd come by. Didn't expect you this soon."

N -"I'm now a woman of leisure."

G -"Oh." Sympathy softened her face. "You got canned?"

N -"Canned, booted, axed, then knocked on my ass by an idiot and his dog on the way home. All in all, it's been a lousy day, even with the expansion of my bank account."

G -"I have to say, I didn't believe it. Those two up on the Peak are certifiable."

N -"Lucky for us. But still, we have to earn it. I'm first up, so I figure I need to get started. Somewhere."

G -"I'm ahead of you. Jan? Will you take the desk?" As she rose gathering a stack of books from under the counter. "Come with me. There's a nice table by the window where you can work."

N -"Work at what?"

G -"Research. I've got several books on Celtic mythology, gods and goddesses, lore and legend. I'm going with the Celts since Rowena's from Wales and Pitte's Irish."

N -"How do you know he's Irish?"

G -"I don't. He sounded Irish. At this point I know little or nothing about Celtic myths, and I figure it's the same for you and Ridhima."

N -"I don't have a clue."

G- "So, we need to get one. I'm off in a few hours, then I can give you a hand. And I can call Ridhima in if you like."

N- "Maybe that's a good idea. I don't know where to start."

G -"Pick one. I'll get you a notebook."

After an hour Nupur needed an aspirin as well. When Ridhima rushed up to sit at the table beside her, she took off her glasses and rubbed her tired eyes.

N -"Good. Reinforcements." She shoved a book across the table.

R -"I'm sorry it took me so long. I was running errands. I bought Sahil this video game he's been wanting. I know I probably shouldn't have spent the money, but I wanted to get him something, just for fun. I've never had so much money in my life, I know I have to be careful with it, but if you can't do a little something fun, what's the point?"

N -"You don't have to sell me. And after you've been at this for a while, you'll know you earned it. Welcome to the wacky world of the Celts."

R- "We're going to find that key. I just know it."

By the time Gunjan joined them, Nupur had written reams of notes in the modified shorthand she'd developed in college.

G -"Why don't we move this to my brother's place? It's right around the corner. He's at work, so he won't be in the way. We can spread out a little, and you can give me the highlights."

N -"Fine with me."

R -"I can only stay for about an hour. I like to be there when Sahil gets home from school, when I can."

G -"Then let's get started. These books are on me, Anybody takes one home for personal research, I need it back in a timely fashion and in the same condition it was in when you took it."

N -"She really is a librarian."

G -"Bet your ass. I'm going to see what I can get off the Net, and through

interlibrary loan."

N -"I don't know how much we're going to get out of books."

Gunjan slipped on her sunglasses, then tipped them down and peered at Nupur over the tops.

G -"Anything worth anything can be found in books."

N -"Okay, now you're heading toward Scary Library Lady. What we need to do is figure out the clue."

G -"Without information on the story, the characters in it, we've got no base."

R -"We've got four whole weeks, that's enough time to find out a lot of stuff, look in a lot of places. Pitte said the keys were around here. So it's not like we have the whole world to worry about."

N -"Around here could mean the Valley, or the highlands. It could mean the entire state. Pitte and pal left it pretty wide open. Even if it's close by, it could be in someone's dusty drawer, on the bottom of the river, in a bank vault, or buried under a rock."

R -"If it was easy, somebody else would have found it by now, And the grand prize wouldn't be three million dollars."

N -"Don't be sensible while I'm crabbing."

R -"Sorry, but there's one other thing I was wondering. I couldn't sleep last night, going over and over the whole evening in my head. It's all so unreal. But even if you set all that aside for a minute, even if we're optimistic and say you find the key, how do we know it'syour key, and not one of the other two?"

N -"Interesting.How come the Weird Twins didn't think of that?"

R -"I figure they did. See, first you have to say it's all real."

G - "We've all got money in the bank, and we're walking along with a load of books on Celtic myths. That's real enough for me."

R -"If it's all real, then Nupur can only find the first key. Even if the other two were right in front of her, she wouldn't find them. And we wouldn't either, not before it's our turn to look."

G- "Do you really believe all this?"

R- "I'd like to. It's so fantastic and important. I've never done anything fantastic or important." She looked up at the narrow three-story Victorian painted a soft slate

blue with creamy gingerbread trim. "Is this your brother's house? I've always thought it was so pretty."

G -"He's been fixing it up bit by bit. Kind of a hobby."

They started up the brick walk. The grass was green and trim on either side, but it needed flowers, Nupur thought. Color and shape and texture. And an old bench on the porch, next to a big copper pot full of interesting sticks and grasses. The house looked lonely without them, like a perfectly attractive woman, she thought, who'd been stood up for a date.

G - "The best I can say about the inside is it'll be quiet. And private."

The foyer was empty but for a few boxes shoved into a corner. The stairway leading up was a lovely, fanciful curve with a griffin head as its newel post. The foyer spilled into a parlor, where the walls were painted a rich, shady-river green that went well with the warm honey-toned pine of the floor. But the walls, like the yard, were naked. There was a huge sofa in the middle of the floor, the sort that shouted to Nupur, A man bought me! Despite the fact that some of the green in it matched the walls, it was a hideous plaid, clunky of style and too large for the charm potential of the room. Some sort of crate stood in as a table. There were more boxes, one of which sat on the hearth of a delightful little fireplace with an ornately carved mantel that she could envision dressing up with a fabulous painting.

R -"So…I guess he's just moving in."

G -"Oh, yeah. For the last year and a half."

N -"He's lived here for over a year? And his single piece of furniture is

this really ugly couch?"

G -"Hey, you should've seen his room at home. At least this is neat. Anyway, he's got some halfway decent stuff upstairs. That's where he lives. There's probably not any food, but there'll be coffee, beer, Coke. Anybody?"

N -"Diet Coke?"

G- "He's a guy."

N -"Right. I'll live dangerously and have the real thing."

R -"Coke's fine,"

G -"Coming up. Go ahead and sit. The couch is an eyesore but it's comfortable."

N-"All this wonderful space wasted, on a man who would actually pay money for

something like this. Okay, it's comfortable. But it's still ugly."

R -"Can you imagine living in a place like this? It's like a doll's house. Well, a

really big doll's house, but just as sweet. I'd spend all my free time playing with it, hunting for treasures to put in it, fussing with paint and fabric."

N -"So would I." Nupur tilted her head. At her very best, she thought, she would never look as hip and exotic as Ridhima managed to do in simple jeans and a cotton shirt. And she'd done the math, calculating how old Ridhima had been when she'd had her baby. At that same age, Nupur had been shopping for the perfect prom dress and preparing for college. And yet, here they were, together in a largely empty room of a stranger's house and having nearly identical thoughts.

N -"It's strange how much we have in common. Strange, too, that we live in a relatively small town and never met before last night."

R - "Where do you get your hair done?"

N -"Carmine's, out at the mall."

R -"That's a good salon. Hair Today, here in town, where I worked? It's mostly women who want the same do week after week after week. Can't blame you for heading out of town. You've got great hair. Did your stylist ever suggest that you take a couple inches off?"

N -"Cut?!"

R -"Just a couple inches, take some of the weight off."

N -"I get the feeling you're looking at my hair the way I'm looking at this room. Wondering just what I could do with it if I had a free hand."

G -"Cokes and cookies. So, what have we got so far?"

N -"I didn't find anything that mentions three daughters of a young god and a mortal woman. I also didn't find anything about trapped souls or keys. A lot of strange-looking names like Lug and Rhianna, Ami, Danu. Tales of battles—victories and death. Celtic gods die—they appear to pop back, but they can actually be killed. And unlike what I know about the gods in Greek and Roman mythology, these don't live on some magic mountaintop. They inhabit the earth, live among people. Lots of politics and protocol."

G - "Anything that could be a metaphor for the keys?"

N -"If there was, it was over my head."

R -"Artists were gods, and warriors, Or the other way around. I mean art—music, storytelling, all that—was important. And there were mother-goddesses. Motherhood was important. And the number three. So, it's like, Nupur's the artist—" It was a quick and painful twist in Nupur's heart.

N -"No, I sell art."

R -"You know art, Like Gunjan knows books. I know about being a mother."

G -"That's good." She beamed at her. "That gives each of us our role in this. Pitte said beauty, truth, courage. In the painting, Nupur—let's simplify by calling them by our names for now—Nupur was playing an instrument. Music-art-beauty. I was holding a scroll and quill—book-knowledge-truth. And Ridz had the sword and the puppy. Innocence-protection-courage."

N -"Which means?"

G -"We could say the first key, your key, is somewhere that has to do with art and/or beauty. That goes along with the clue."

N -"Great. I'll pick it up on my way home. What if they just made it up? The whole story?"

R -"I refuse to believe they made the whole thing up just to have us scrambling around looking for keys."

G - "No matter what we believe, they believe it's true. So there's got to be some root, some basis for this legend or myth or story they told us last night. If there's a root, it's in a book. Somewhere."

R -"Actually…the book I was reading talked about how a lot of the Celtic

mythology and legends didn't get written down. They were passed orally."

G -"Those damn bards! Look, Pitte and Rowena heard it somewhere, and whoever told them heard it from someone else. The information is out there, and information is my god."

N -"Maybe what we have to do is get information on Pitte and Rowena. Who the hell are they? Where do they come from? Where do they get the kind of money that allows them to pass it out like cupcakes?"

G -"You're right. You're absolutely right, and I should've thought of that before. It happens I know somebody who can help us with that while we're looking into

the myth." She glanced toward the doorway as she heard the front door open. "And here he comes now."

They heard a thud, a slam, a scramble, and a curse.

It was just familiar enough to have Nupur pressing her fingers to her temples.

N - "Holy Mother of God."

Even as she spoke, the huge black dog raced in. His tail swung like a demolition ball, his tongue lolled. And his eyes went bright as stars as he spotted Nupur. He let out a series of ear-shattering barks, then leaped into her lap.