Chapter Forty-Five
Nicole
‘WHAT ABOUT THAT ONE?’ BELLS ASKED TWO DAYS LATER, pointing at one of the torcs.
The problem with Celtic artwork was that it often had a zoomorphic art style of animal-like patterns, which increased the potential number of objects the Tène could be attached to.
Nicole breathed deeply, trying to ignore her unease.
It was eleven o’clock.
Kyan hadn’t met them yet, and she and Bells had been browsing for half an hour already.
Nicole thought again of the Claddagh ring she’d seen in the ferry gift shop – gold with a red stone.
She’d been drawn to its colour and the wink of the jewel, like a drop of blood.
When she’d realised it was a promise ring, she’d lingered over it for so long Dylan had come to search for her, and she’d ended up leaving it, feeling more complicated than before.
She forced her mind to focus and peer at the torcs, her sight shifting to look through any supernatural varnish that might be concealing a different design. Or better yet, the creature guarding it. But none of these matched the description Kyan had given them.
It was their second day in Ireland and she’d had to corral her longing to see and know more than she’d been able to glimpse of the island on the ferry: the rolling emerald against a dark silver sea.
This was where Kyan had been born.
Where the gods had come thousands of years ago.
Where two items of mythological and supernatural importance were hidden.
So many ties to his time were here. They’d even passed a road named Sétanta Place on the way. Nicole had stopped so abruptly at the shock of seeing his birth name that Bells had bumped into her.
The moment Kyan walked into the room, her stomach swooped with relief. She hadn’t seen him since their fake hunt.
He was dressed in a dark green henley and jeans, shoulders tight, a prowl to his walk that fluttered her belly, even as a tightness in her chest eased. His hair was growing out slightly and curling against his brow, the memory of it brushing her mouth as he dipped his head to kiss her—
‘You all right?’ he asked.
‘I – yes.’
His gaze lingered on her, though. Like he knew she wasn’t just concerned. ‘Luca is testing out his stolen tech from the Wake’s labs on the museum’s CCTV to keep us hidden. I’ve told the Wake I’ll be trying to get close to you, so it’s safer for us to be seen, unless Luca tells me otherwise.’
The knots in her stomach soothed slightly as she glanced up at one of the cameras. That meant she was also safe to be with her family out in the open. At least for now. If there were any slips, Kyan had a cover story. Still, being so clearly near him made her hum with awareness and concern.
‘How are Dylan and Lawna?’ Kyan asked.
‘They’re okay,’ she said. ‘Dylan’s black eye is nearly gone and Lawna is still resting at your townhouse. Biróg didn’t want her to travel with the head wound.’ The stomach-dropping terror of knowing how bad head wounds could be hadn’t left her during the whole ferry journey.
‘What do you think?’ Bells asked Kyan. ‘Anything look familiar?’
Torcs of varying sizes and periods were laid out beneath the glass.
They ranged in style, from a single spiral of gold, to tube-like bands with details overlaid onto them, like leaves and creatures.
Nicole had had her money on one of those, as they seemed like the most logical type to hide something inside.
But when Kyan had described his, it sounded more like the Snettisham Great Torc, which had many gold alloy wires wound together, forming one thick necklace that was capped at the ends.
He scanned them. ‘Not mine.’
Locating the Tène amid every treasure in the museum could take days, but her mother had told the Muse it was here, so there must be other clues to its location. She just had to focus.
‘How, exactly, are we going to get the Tène to give us the treasure?’ Bells asked.
About that, Nicole had no idea.
‘They only give up their treasures for something they deem more valuable,’ Kyan answered. ‘So our best bet is to find it first.’
‘If we end up with too much trouble, maybe Remi can come and sing it to sleep,’ Nicole said. ‘She’s given us a recording of herself that might coax it to move when we find an artefact that looks promising.’
Bells sighed. ‘So cute.’
They were to meet the others at the library in thirty minutes anyway. If they didn’t locate it, they’d come back tomorrow.
They browsed each piece as a group before splitting up. The museum’s colour scheme reminded Nicole of the airy impressionist paintings of Berthe Morisot: the majority of the space painted ethereal white, with details in shades of grey, sandstone, and dark brown.
By the time they wandered into the treasury it was closer to twelve.
The very hour Xinyi had planned for a thief to help Remi and Dylan get their hands on the harp.
Most of the items in the treasury were from Kyan’s time: masterworks of gold jewellery, remnants of ancient boats, delicate cloak-pins, time-eaten stone sculptures, and swords curled in on themselves, now deemed offerings to gods.
All of this was just a fraction of the life that he’d lived, a whisper haunting time itself.
The treasury was long and empty of visitors. Its ceiling arched over a floor of floral mosaics interspersed with women in Grecian robes. Nicole walked into the centre, taking in the mosaic. At this point in the room it was a circle, unlike the more oblong shapes at either entrance.
This was the iconography the Wake used for their oaths. But in here, it looked like a marker. A literal circle drawn around the location; a subtle link to the organisation this artefact could destroy.
A symbol Nicole would always note.
‘Okay, Mum,’ she said, taking in the room and stepping into the circular mosaic. ‘Where is it?’
Nicole scanned the four artefacts boxed at each point around the circle, all silver and as lucent as if they’d been moon-crafted. Each with metalwork so intricate that art historians had deemed them carved by angels.
Nicole stepped closer, gravitating towards the only item that appeared capable of hiding a torc, which also happened to have the type of zoomorphic details a Tène could hide amongst.
Clad in glass, she discovered it was called the ‘Derrynaflan Paten’.
She was surprised that it was Christian artefact, as she’d been keeping her eyes peeled for a pagan one, from a time when Druids or Old Gods had still been prominent in the ideology and design …
Her head tilted.
The paten resembled a deep silver plate, or an ancient mirror.
The rim was inscribed in such minute Irish patterning Nicole had to bend closer to make it out.
There were stylised shapes in its minuscule weave that included creatures so small they were hard to parse, disguised in its design.
Every inch or so around its edge was a glass or enamel stud, and the surface of the metal plate gleamed and danced as if bespelled.
The piece hadn’t been made in Kyan’s time, so could it have been built to hide the torc later on? Or could the torc have been placed inside it somehow for safekeeping?
‘What’s this?’ Bells asked, having joined her.
‘A plate,’ Nicole mused. ‘But the detail is incredible, and the way it catches light …’ It made it look like it was some sort of scrying mirror, or mystic artefact.
Her mind highlighted the iconography of the circle on the floor, which glowed gold in her mind.
Then the shape of the paten itself.
Then the promise of the third circle inside – the torc.
Three circles, like the triple spiral symbol for the Morrígan.
Symbols, hidden in plain sight. Visual clues her mother had so loved to play with.
‘It even has the little animals.’
Bells’ head tilted with a frown. ‘I don’t see them.’
Nicole pulled the sketchpad from her bag and drew the knotted beasts more simply: stylised serpentine creatures with their jaws outstretched. Some looked like birds, or other mythical beings. She held it up next to the glass.
‘It’s ingenious. To stop the designs being destroyed by the change from pagan to Christian religion they were incorporated.
It’s called religious syncretism: when a new culture or religion adopts pieces of the old one.
Whether to ease others over to a new religion with familiar visuals, or in an attempt to erase the previous one.
In this case, they kept the La Tène design, but used it for Christian iconography. ’
‘But where could the torc be hidden in this?’ Bells asked.
‘My money’s on inside. Look how thick the sides are, it’s nothing like a thin modern plate. If the base was made and the torc placed inside it, then liquid metal could have been poured on top, which might have generated the Tène … unless the creature found the torc later on and decided to keep it.’
‘Only one way to know if there’s a Tène in there,’ Bells said, pulling out Remi’s lullaby recording.
Kyan found them as the melody’s warm hum filled the room and Nicole kept an eye on the dual entrances to make sure no one strolled inside.
‘Huh, I guess it’s not—’ Bells stopped as the knotwork details around the piece began to move.
They swirled and clicked. And like a mechanism, the little creatures shifted, and the mirror-like surface of the paten undulated, and sank.
The silver disappeared, but it didn’t reveal a torc.
Instead, Bells’ head tilted, her silky ponytail shining. ‘Oh, it’s the Tène!’
The tiny dragon-like creature curled around a card of pure gold. No symbol. No writing.
No torc.
Kyan got closer.
‘That looks like a calling card,’ he said. ‘Extremely good thieves can spot a Tène and take its treasure. It’s rare, but it happens.’
‘So, someone got to it first?’ Bells asked, chewing her bottom lip.
‘How?’ Nicole demanded. This had been so meticulously hidden.
Kyan didn’t show a flicker of emotion. Instead, he pulled out his phone and scowled at the card as it rang. ‘Luca. What thief leaves a gold calling card?’
Nicole heard the stranger’s Italian curse on the other end of the phone, then, ‘No one knows what he is, just that he was a restorer at the British Museum. He worked on a lot of supernatural artefacts to make sure their varnishes were renewed or they were treated with the proper materials and weren’t too dangerous or exposing to be put in human exhibits.
It also meant he got a taste for the art world, artefacts, and the black market.
‘Now, though, he throws elaborate parties that are often invite only. Sometimes to show off his pieces, sometimes to host an auction. Whispers say he’s hosting one in Edinburgh in—’ He paused as if he was checking. ‘Three days.’
Nicole’s gaze slid to Kyan.
‘Thanks, Luca,’ Kyan said tightly.
‘Woah, you’re not thinking of getting near him, are you?
He’s infamous. No one can steal from him and he’s outwitted everyone that’s tried to stop him.
Not to mention his prices. They say he keeps all the best stuff for himself.
No sales. And before you ask, I’ve tried already.
The guy has better security than the Wake. ’
Kyan’s lips pressed into a hard line. ‘Thanks.’
He hung up and they stared at the tiny sleeping creature in the centre of the paten.
‘So, this thief has it?’ Bells asked.
‘It seems so,’ Nicole mused, frustration turning her restless. ‘So it looks like we’ll just have to go and get it.’
But, when had the torc been taken? Years ago? Last week? What if it had already been sold on?
Kyan nodded his chin to the solid gold card the Tène was sleeping atop of. ‘Considering we get in by invite only, I suspect that is our invite.’
‘How do we get it off the little thing?’ Bells asked as Remi’s song finished.
The creature shook itself, as if waking from a slumber.
Nicole stilled and Kyan moved closer as the Tène swung its tiny head around, as if searching for its treasure.
‘Oh, no,’ Bells crooned. ‘Are you okay?’
The little beast blinked up at her with jet eyes and its heavily ornate body – the scales like La Tène swirls – shuddered.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Nicole breathed.
‘What did they do to it?’ Bells cried. ‘It looks hurt. Look at its little leg, it’s limping!’
‘Be careful,’ Kyan said, reaching for her as she went to touch the glass.
‘Why is it so small?’ Bells asked.
‘It’s lost its treasure,’ Kyan said. ‘When they do, they lose almost all of their true power until they find a new treasure or are returned to a forge.’
The Tène dived, making all of them move at once.
Instead of slamming into the glass or shattering it, the mystical creature jumped right through, like nothing more than a wall of air separated them.
Nicole grabbed Bells to put herself in front of her as Kyan moved. He spun, arms around them both, back to the case and chest to Nicole’s face.
But there was no incendiary heat, no grunt of pain from Kyan, despite throwing himself in front of her and her sister. Nicole’s ears rang with the wild drum of his heart. She looked up as Kyan unfolded himself, and a metallic clink sounded on the floor.
‘Are you hurt?’ Nicole demanded, pulling them away from the case to check him and Bells, then glare at the untouched case.
The little beast was gone.
‘Where is it?’ Nicole asked, spinning to check on Bells.
‘I think she’s okay,’ Kyan said, as Bells raised her wrist.
The creature had dived to her sister’s outstretched hand.
Now, it coiled around Bells’ wrist like a bracelet, elongating its body and biting into its tail, securing itself to her in an unbreakable hold.
Kyan bent and picked up the gold calling card the Tène had dropped. ‘Looks like it’s found its new treasure,’ he said. ‘And left us this.’