Deadlock

SIXTEEN

"GET UP." GARRETT LIFTED Emily to her feet. "You're stiff as a board. I told you to come in out of the cold."

"Pauley? It seems like it's been a long time." She was stiff, she real¬ized. She had been sitting huddled here for hours.

"For what he was doing it was only the blink of an eye. I'll believe him from now on when he says he's Superman." He was leading her into the house. "Come on. I want you to see this before Pauley has to release that satellite."

Pauley looked up impatiently. "This isn't show-and-tell, Garrett. I can't keep this up indefinitely. One minute."

"Be quiet. She needs this." He pushed Emily forward and put his hands on her shoulders. "Look at the monitor."

There wasn't much to see. A flat aerial view of buildings and the surrounding fields.

"Zoom, Pauley," Garrett said.

The view narrowed as it plunged toward the earth.

To a dark blue Volvo parked beside the loading ramp of one of the buildings.

"Same license number, same description," Garrett said. "We've got him, Emily."

The relief was so intense it almost made her dizzy. "Do we know where that is?"

"A warehouse in the town of Sakvar, about sixty miles northeast." "What if he abandoned the car?"

"It's possible. But the Volvo is parked off the road and hidden by the building. It appears more likely that Staunton is still using it."

"That's it. You've got what you need. I'm getting out." Pauley's fingers were flying across the keyboard. "And hope like hell I didn't leave any trace of evidence behind."

Emily turned to Garrett. "You have an address. Then we can go after her?"

He nodded. "Very carefully. If Staunton is with her, there's a good chance he'd kill her if he thought he had a chance of losing her to us."

She whirled and headed for the door. "We'll be careful. We just have to get her away from him quickly. Dear God, I wasn't sure that Pauley would be able to do it."

"I told you I could," Pauley said. "And followed through with my usual brilliant efficiency."

She smiled exuberantly at him over her shoulder. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Pauley."

He returned her smile. "Since it looks like I was able to do this without endangering my life and liberty, I'll say that you're welcome."

"Emily, don't be too excited," Garrett said. "We've only located Irana. We haven't freed her."

Emily's smile faded. "She's alive, Garrett. I know it. He wouldn't kill her if he could use her. All we have to do is go get her." She was sounding simplistic. "Okay, it's not that easy, but we have hope now."

"Yes, we have hope." He headed for the door. "And we'll do like Pauley and follow through with brilliant efficiency. Let's go and see what-"

Garrett broke off as Emily's cell phone rang.

She went rigid as she reached in the pocket of her jacket.

It had to be Staunton. It had to be the call she had been waiting for most of the day.

And Garrett knew it, too. She could tell by his alert, watchful ex¬pression.

She punched the button and turned up the volume. She took a deep breath. "It took you long enough, Staunton. I was expecting to hear from you much earlier."

"I was busy. And I wanted to give you time to think about all the possibilities."

"I've thought about them. Is Irana still alive?"

"Yes, do you want to talk to her?"

"Of course, I do."

Staunton was gone from the phone for a moment, then returned. "The bitch won't talk to you. I think she wants you to think that I've killed her, and there's no reason to bargain." His tone had an edge. "I'm finding her very annoying. I can't wait to get rid of her and take you instead."

Her hand tightened on the phone. "Just don't hurt her."

"That's entirely up to you. I don't think you believe that I'd kill her until you and I could get together."

"No, you wouldn't do that. Tell me your terms."

"There's a deserted red-roofed silo about forty miles from Moscow, off of M-10. You'll meet me there, alone, and I'll take you to sweet Sister Irana. I have a pair of very powerful infrared binoculars. I'll be able to view the surrounding countryside for miles from that silo. If I see any signs of Garrett or any of his friends, then I'll phone and tell the man guarding her to dispose of the bitch."

"No, you bring her with you. You release her, and we watch her drive away."

"You're being demanding. I'm in control here, Emily."

"Then let's compromise. I come to the silo, but I won't get out of the car. When you see me, you tell your guard to release her. Have her call me and tell me she's been released, and I'll turn myself over to you."

He was silent a moment. "I did want to have both of you. I was so entertained by your response to Levy."

"I know you were. I won't go through that again, Staunton. Let her go."

Another silence. "Very well. Have it your way. Four hours, Emily. That will be about eleven tonight." He hung up. Eleven tonight.

She turned to Garrett. "It seems we have to wait again."

"You're not going to meet him," he said flatly.

"The hell I'm not." She stared him in the eye. "There's no way you could keep me from going. This isn't Babin. This is Irana. It's a way to get him away from that warehouse and for you to be able to surprise whoever is holding Irana. You said that you thought he'd kill Irana rather than give her up if we surprised them. I think so, too. And I don't believe she has a chance of living long after he gets his hands on me." She moistened her lips. "So you have to free her before that hap¬pens. I won't get out of the car, and you can figure a way to keep me safe. But he can't know you're anywhere near. I won't have Irana put in danger."

"And do you have any suggestions as to how the hell we'll do all that?"

"That's up to you." She turned away. "Pauley rose to the occasion. You've got the experience at this kind of thing. Use it."

"Oh, I will. But experience doesn't mean shit when it's someone you care about. This is Irana." He paused. "This is you." He whirled on his heel. "And I know right now that I'm going to have to let you have a big part in this, and its damn well killing me. But I'll be like our friend Pauley and find a way to get the job done." He added grimly, "And hope that it doesn't kill you."

9:55 p.m.

"READY?" GARRETT ASKED, as Emily got into the driver's seat.

She wasn't ready. She was scared and a little sick to her stomach. "Sure. I'm okay."

"I'll be at the warehouse in Sakvar by eleven, and I should be able to get Irana out by eleven-fifteen. Keep Staunton busy talking so that he won't call and check on Irana before that time."

"That shouldn't be hard. Staunton likes to talk." She remembered all the hours he'd stayed with her-taunting her, questioning her.

"Don't get out of the car," Garrett said. "And don't let him leave the silo." He handed her the black box he'd demonstrated to her ear¬lier. "When I have Irana free, I'll ring you twice on your cell."

"You've already told me all that," she said. "Eleven-fifteen, two rings." She started the car. "And don't get out of the car."

"I guess I have." He stepped back. "It bears repeating. Be careful."

"You be careful," she said. "And take care of Irana."

She glanced at her rearview mirror and could see him standing there, hands clenched at his sides as she drove out of the farmyard.

Then he whirled and strode toward the BMW, where Dardon was waiting.

1 1.02 p.m.

EMILY COULDN'T TELL WHETHER the roof of the silo was red or not. It only appeared to be dark rust in the moonlight. But Garrett had said this was the right silo, and she had to trust him. She slowed the car to a crawl, then stopped a short distance from the silo.

The palms of her hands on the steering wheel were moist with perspiration. Her heart was beating fast, hard, as she gazed at the silo.

He was there. He was probably looking at her through the high-powered binoculars he'd mentioned. Keep her face without expres¬sion. Don't let him see his effect on her.

Her phone rang.

"My, my, you're right on time," Staunton said. "A little anxious, my Emily?"

"I'm not your Emily. Give the order to release Irana."

"Presently. I'm looking the terrain over to make sure that you haven't got any unwelcome visitors trailing behind you."

"You know better. I wouldn't take the chance."

"No, you're very concerned about your friend. That's your great¬est weakness, Emily. I'll always be able to come out on top because I don't have that weakness."

"I'm aware you don't give a damn about anyone. You've proved it time and time again. Let her go, Staunton."

"Get out of the car and come to me."

Don't get out of the car.

She looked at her watch-11:05. Keep talking. "I won't risk my¬self without being sure that it's worth it. Who is watching her? Borg?"

"No, Borg is busy attending to some other business for me in Paris. I had to call in a local. Fasrov is lethal, but not nearly as talented as Borg. I missed him this afternoon."

She stiffened. Block out the part that was causing panic to ice through her. "What kind of business?"

"Partly damage control. Partly long-term insurance." He was silent. "I do believe you've been a good girl. I don't see any signs of Garrett or his friends. Now get out of the car, put down the gun I'm sure you have, and walk toward the silo."

"I won't get out of the car."

"Then I'll call Fasrov and tell him to kill our Sister Irana. Then I'll shoot out your tires, and we'll go from there." She looked at her watch-11:12.

"I don't want to kill your friend," Staunton said. "It will be much more amusing if I can keep her alive… for a while." "Like Joel."

"Exactly like Joel Levy."

"I told you that I wouldn't let you-"

"Your choice. I kill her now, or you take the chance you can free her later."

It was eleven thirteen.

"I'm going to hang up and call Fasrov now," Staunton said. "Don't make the call. I'm getting out of the car." "Very good. I told you that softness would beat you every time." She got out of the car. "I'm putting down my gun." She set the Glock on the ground. "I'm going to walk toward you. Where are you?" "I'm on scaffolding inside the silo. I'll come down to meet you." Don't let him leave the silo. "No," she said quickly. "I'm on my way to you." "Now why do you want me to-"

"I'm hanging up the phone now." Emily clicked the button and moved slowly toward the silo.

Eleven fifteen, Garrett had said. Two rings, Garrett had said.

But it was only eleven fourteen, and she was already out in the open and struggling to keep Staunton in that damn silo. Where the hell are you, Garrett?

11:14 p.m. Sakvar Warehouse

ONLY ONE GUARD AND HE WERE standing in front of the load¬ing dock of the warehouse.

Garrett moved silently across the dock.

One yard. Two yards. Three. Now!

His arm went around the guard's neck from behind. He pulled back, twisted, and snapped it.

"Dardon." He moved toward the heavy freight door. "Bring the car around."

He ran down the hall. It was eleven-fifteen. His infrared detector had indicated one person at the far end of the warehouse. He was praying it was Irana. He was praying she was alive. He couldn't call Emily until he was sure.

The door was locked. Dammit, he should have gotten the key from the guard.

He aimed downward at the lock. "Irana, stand back."

No answer.

The lock exploded as he blasted it. He threw open the door. "Irana?"

EMILY'S PHONE IN HER POCKET rang. Once. Twice. Two rings. At last.

She heard Staunton's voice just inside the silo. "Just what are you-"

She pressed the remote control on the box Garrett had given her.

And Staunton was framed in the doorway as the silo blew.

Emily was running back to get the gun she'd laid on the ground, but the force of the blast threw her to the ground.

"Bitch," Staunton was cursing as he tried to pick himself up off the ground. "Whore."

A bullet whistled by Emily's ear as she crawled the final few feet to the Glock. She grabbed it and rolled behind the car. "But you like ex¬plosives, Staunton." She aimed carefully. "You blew up Irana's hospital. You blew up her plane. Garrett thought it only fitting that he come here and do some advance work so that he could return the favor."

"I'll kill her. I warned you, Emily." He was struggling to reach his phone. "You've signed her death-" He cried out as her bullet entered his shoulder.

Dammit, she had meant the bullet to hit his chest. If he hadn't moved for the phone, he would have been dead, and this would have been over. She took aim again.

But Staunton was up and running around the burning silo, blood pouring from the wound in his shoulder. An instant later she heard the sound of a car being started.

"No!"

She started to get to her knees as she saw Staunton's Volvo tearing out from behind the silo.

Was he coming toward her?

No, he'd passed her and was barreling down the road.

Shoot out his tires. She leveled the gun.

But he was zigzagging all over the tarmac.

And the next moment he was out of range.

Disappointment as sharp as it was deep tore through her. She'd failed. He was still alive. He'd been bleeding profusely, but if he stopped the flow, there was a good chance he'd live.

She could still see the taillights of Staunton's car.

It was all to do again, she realized in despair. Staunton was still out there. She would have to find him and kill him before he managed to hurt anyone else.

It wasn't over.

BITCH. BITCH. BITCH.

Staunton could feel the blood pouring down his arm as he stomped on the accelerator.

She had come close to killing him, he thought incredulously. She had tried to blow him up, then she had shot him. He might still die if he didn't get this damn blood stopped. He would have taken care of the bitch if he hadn't realized that he couldn't afford to take the chance of bleeding to death while he did it.

He would pull off the road, make a compress, and find a doctor somewhere in a nearby town to get out the bullet.

Then I'll be ready for you, Emily.

EMILY DIALED GARRETT AS she got back in the car. "Two rings. Tell me it wasn't a mistake. Irana is safe?" "Irana is safe."

Relief soared through her. "Thank God."

"How are you? Did you blow that son of a bitch to kingdom come?"

"No. It didn't go as you hoped it would. I blew the silo, but he wasn't inside. I only managed to wound him." "But you're okay?"

"Yes. He was bleeding badly and got away. I thought we had a chance to end it, Garrett. He was moving, and I only got his shoulder. Now we have to start over."

"No, we've made progress. We just have to keep going. I'm on my way back to the farm with Dardon and Irana. I'll meet you there." He hung up.

GARRETT HAD ALREADY ARRIVED at the farmhouse when Emily pulled into the yard.

She jumped out of the car and ran into the house.

"Irana!"

"She's here." Garrett turned away from the stove. "She's in the bathroom. She said to tell you that she'd be out in a few minutes." He poured coffee into a cup. "The bastard didn't feed her all day. I asked her if she wanted something to eat, but she said all she wanted was coffee."

"But she's not hurt?"

"She said she wasn't hurt."

"Is Dardon okay?"

"Yes. I sent Pauley to bed and Dardon out to do guard duty." Garrett wasn't looking at her. "What's wrong? You're sure Irana's not hurt?"

"That's what she said." He still didn't look away from the coffee. "But she was very quiet on the trip back here."

"Quiet?" Emily's stomach clenched, and her gaze flew to the bath¬room door. "What do you think that means?" Dear God, don't let anything be-

"You've scared her, Garrett." The door had opened, and Irana came out of the bathroom, drying her wet hair with a towel. "You shouldn't have done that." She threw her wet towel on the back of a chair. "She's had a bad enough time tonight from what you've told me."

Emily's gaze was raking Irana's face. "Irana…?"

"Here's your coffee." Garrett held out the cup to Irana. His voice was hoarse, and when Emily glanced at his face, she was shocked to see the pain in his expression.

Irana shook her head. "I don't really want it now. I just knew that you'd feel better if you could do something for me. All I wanted was a bath and to wash my hair. I'm okay now." She turned to Emily. "Come on, Emily. Let's go outside and get some air. I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your clothes and one of your jackets. I can't seem to get warm."

"Am I invited to come along?" Garrett asked.

"No." Irana headed for the door. "I'll talk to you later. Emily needs me now."

"What do you mean I need you?" Emily asked when she'd closed the door behind them and followed Irana a few yards into the farm¬yard. "What about you? What do you need, Irana?" She gazed search-ingly at the other woman. Irana was half-turned away from her, but her face appeared pale and strained in the light cast by the bare bulb over the door. "Did he hurt you?"

"It doesn't matter, Emily. It's gone. Soon it will only be a distant memory."

"Oh, God, he did hurt you," she said, agonized. "How?"

Irana turned to look at her. "I asked you to come out here because I knew that this was going to be bad for you. I wanted it over for both of us as quickly as possible."

"Garrett should never have asked you to come here. It's my fault. I think he did it because he wanted to keep me from-"

"Garrett gave me a choice. It's not your fault. It's not Garrett's. Though you'll both probably blame yourselves." Her voice was a little uneven. "You'll be doing me a great favor if you try not to do that. It's very difficult for me to try to heal both of you and myself at the same time."

"What did he do to you?"

"Nothing that I can't overcome."

I only wanted a bath and to wash my hair.

Torture of a woman usually starts with rape, Staunton had told Emily all those weeks ago.

"Don't look at me like that," Irana said. "I won't have him hurt you again, through me." Her hands grasped Emily's shoulders. "Lis¬ten, I'm going to say this once, then I'm not ever going to talk about it again." Her voice vibrated with passionate sincerity. "He didn't hurt my mind, or my spirit, or my soul. Anything else he did doesn't mat¬ter at all. Do you understand?"

Emily's throat was so tight, she couldn't speak for a moment. "I understand." She understood that Irana was probably even more special than she had dreamed. She stepped closer and enfolded her in her arms. "But I can't say it won't matter to me," she said unevenly. "You told me once I was one of the soldiers. I can't take the higher view."

Irana's arms tightened around her for a brief moment. "I'm having a little trouble doing that, too," she whispered. "I'm working my way through it." She stepped back. "And now I think it's time we both tried to sleep. Tomorrow, everything will be clearer. Garrett said I could share your room."

Emily nodded. "Or you could have it by yourself if you prefer."

"I do not prefer. No guilt. No sacrifices." She turned toward the door. "And if you wish to do me a service, you can make sure Garrett understands and complies. He's a great one for guilt and taking the blame. I've tried for years to rid him of one guilt complex, and I don't want to contend with another."

Emily remembered Garrett's expression when he'd offered Irana that cup of coffee in the kitchen. "He knows, Irana."

Irana nodded. "I was… not myself when he came to the ware¬house. And it's very hard for him. He cares for me. That's why you must make it easier for all of us to get through this."

"I'll do my best." She'd do anything to make the situation easier for Irana. Lord knows Irana was trying to make it easier for them. "No guilt. No blame."

Except for Staunton.

May you burn in hell, Staunton.

IRANA WAS STILL SLEEPING when Emily crept out of the bed¬room at seven the next morning. She was glad that Irana had finally dropped off a few hours ago. She had been curled up and silent most of the night, but Emily had been aware of her tension. She had wanted to reach out and touch her, but had given her space.

Garrett was sitting at the table, papers spread out before him. He looked up when she came into the room. "There's coffee on the stove." "What are you doing?"

"You told me to translate Zelov's book. I'm obliging." She went over to the stove and poured a cup of coffee. "That seems a long time ago."

He nodded. "A decade at least. A lot has happened." Ugliness. Blood. Pain.

He turned back to Zelov's book. "But it still needs doing if we want to move forward. And you wanted to read it."

"Have you been working all night?"

"Yes, I would have had trouble sleeping anyway."

"I didn't have a great night either." She leaned against the counter. "But I made a promise to Irana, and I have to make sure I keep it." She paused. "That you keep it."

He looked up at her. "You're making promises on my behalf?"

"This one. No blame. No guilt. She doesn't want to deal with it from either one of us."

He closed his eyes. "I can't keep your promise, Emily. You were right, I should never have brought her here."

"You will keep it. Or make her think you are. And you'd better do a good job of it. I won't have this made any worse for her than it is al¬ready. She's incredibly strong, but she's hurting. If she looks at us and sees that we're remembering, it will bring it back to her. That's not go¬ing to happen. I won't let it."

His eyes opened, and Emily could see the glitter of moisture. "No, that's not going to happen. I was thinking that I'd like to send her back to Mykala for a while. Dardon could go with her to keep her safe."

"Great. If she'll do it." The idea of Irana away from this hellish situation was wonderfully welcome. She took a sip of coffee. "Maybe we can persuade her." She glanced at the papers on the table. "How far along are you?"

"Not far enough. It's slow going. I'll probably turn it over to Pauley to finish. He can try to tap into one of the Russian language sites and see what he can do."

"Then why don't you try to take a nap? You look exhausted."

He smiled faintly. "Are you concerned about me, Emily? You weren't when you gave me this assignment."

"I was angry. I'm probably still angry." But that indignation and anger seemed remote and curiously unimportant right now. "Oh, just go to bed."

He shook his head. "I'll finish up this entry, then go and wake Pauley and call Dardon to come in from the perimeter. We have to get out of here."

"Why? Aren't we safe?"

"I don't know. I always move locations every few days just to make sure."

"I shot Staunton. It wasn't a fatal wound, but it will take a little while for him to bounce back."

"We still move. I'm not taking chances. As soon as Irana gets up, we'll decide if we have to get her on a plane to Mykala to send-

"Irana is up." Irana came into the room and headed for the bath¬room. "I'm going to wash and get dressed, and Emily is going for a walk with me. Yes, Emily?"

Emily nodded. "But it's not like your island. It's all flat barrenness and vast spaces."

"That can have a splendor, too." Irana stopped at the bathroom door and spoke to Garrett. "And we're not getting me on a plane, so make your arrangements around that fact."

IRANA AND EMILY WERE WALKING out the front door twenty minutes later.

Garrett looked up from straightening the pile of papers in front of him. "Can I talk you out of staying here, Irana?"

"No, Garrett." She smiled at him. It was a shadow of her usual smile, but it was still luminous. "I'm staying here with my friends. I wouldn't be happy on Mykala right now."

Garrett opened his lips, then closed them. He nodded. "Whatever you want, Irana."

Irana didn't speak for a few moments as she and Emily strode across the frozen ground. "He was very… accepting." She suddenly chuckled. "You must have been stern with him."

Lord, it was good to hear Irana laugh. "We had a talk." She shook her head. "Though / hoped you'd go, too."

"I know." She looked straight ahead. "It would have been good to go home for a while. But it's not right for me. Not now. Last night I thought about it. I prayed about it." She shook her head. "And I still came out with the same answer." She glanced at Emily with the faintest hint of mischief. "Now you should say, 'Whatever you want, Irana.'"

"No way."

"That's what I like to hear." Her smile faded. "Don't feel sad for me. I'm healing, Emily. Every minute, every hour, I'm healing and becoming the stronger for it."

"Considering who you are, that doesn't surprise me." She hesitated, then said with a touch of awkwardness, "I… care about you. No, I guess I love you, Irana. I've always been afraid to make friends because I was always traveling, always having to leave them, and that hurt. It was okay with Joel because he was in the same job, and I could keep him with me." She shook her head. "I think you know how I feel, but I was cursing myself yesterday because I'd never said the words. You're my friend and my sister, and I thank God that Garrett pushed me into your life." She cleared her throat. "Even though I've caused you a world of trouble." She held up her hand. "Sorry. No guilt. No blame."

"Right. And it's never trouble when you care about someone as I care for you, Emily. Because I think God may have wanted to bring us together for a reason. Or maybe just to comfort and protect each other as friends do. That's sometimes reason enough." Irana looked away from her. They had reached the center of the field, and she jammed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, her gaze on the gray clouds hanging low over the flat, barren fields. "Yes, this land has a kind of somber splendor. And you can feel the storms that have passed through here. My island of Mykala is very ancient, but you don't feel the same sense of disturbance and turmoil. It's more serene."

Irana clearly wanted to ease the subject away from the personal and Emily followed her lead. "Russia has had a very turbulent history."

She nodded. "And the years that Mikhail Zelov was trying to ma¬nipulate the Tsar and Tsarina were some of the most violent. It wasn't the time to have a weak Tsar like Nicholas II. He sat on his throne sur¬rounded by his beautiful wife and family and couldn't believe that revolution was right around the corner. For centuries the Tsars had been all-powerful, living in magnificence almost beyond comprehen¬sion. Why should they think that they would be deposed by those rabid Bolsheviks? Communism was everywhere, but the Tsar thought he had history on his side." She grimaced. "Until history was blown to bits when they took the royal family prisoner and executed them."

"But what did the Church have to do with all that turmoil?"

"Nicholas was very religious and trying to keep the Church afloat. Everyone was trying to climb over each other and gain power, and the Church was just attempting to keep the power it had."

"You sound as if you've studied it."

"When I was young, I studied all the religions of the world, includ¬ing the Russian Orthodox Church. The Church was woven into the history of Russia. As I said, the power of the Church was being chipped away by all kinds of factions. It was a time of change. That was how Rasputin gained influence in the Church. They were looking for some¬one who could bolster its popularity. Enter Rasputin, who claimed to be a miracle worker and holy man and had a lot of people believing him." She shook her head. "But I never ran across any stories of Zelov."

"Evidently that was how he liked it," Emily said. "He was an evil man, and the evil he did is still present and continuing." She looked at Irana. "How could that happen? How could Mikhail Zelov not have been punished for his sins? He ended up in America with a fortune. Why didn't God do something?"

"Maybe he did. How do you know Zelov was happy with all his riches? You don't know the torment of the soul."

Emily was silent. "That wouldn't be good enough for me. And what about Staunton? Don't you want to go after him and punish him for what he did to you?"

"I was thinking about that last night. I'm terribly angry, and it's dif¬ficult for me to-" She shook her head. "But I won't let him twist what I am. He's evil, Emily. Perhaps the most evil man I've ever known. As long as he's free, he'll be a danger to everyone around him. That's why I have to stay, why I have to help you. I have to make sure that he can't hurt anyone else. But it can't be just for my sake. I have to trust that it's also God's will, and he will help me."

Emily shook her head. "I'm not like you. I can't wait for fate or God to give their okay. I want to make sure that evil is punished."

"You mean you want to do it yourself." Irana smiled. "That's a sol¬dier's philosophy. Sometimes you have to leave things to God."

"Suppose I help him a little."

Irana smiled. "That sounds like Garrett. You're very alike, you know."

"No, I don't know." She started walking across the field toward the farmhouse. "And he doesn't think I'm a soldier. He wants me to sit with my hands crossed while he goes out and does-" She shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."

"He let you go out and risk your life last night. It wasn't easy for him."

"That was different. That was for you, Irana." "Yes, that was for me."

And Emily could see the faintest shadow returning to her expression, and she said quickly, "I don't want to talk about Garrett. Besides everything else, I'm very angry with him for bringing you here."

"He gave me a choice. I told you once, he always gives me a choice," she added, "And he said something about me being helpful in dealing with the Russian Orthodox Church if needed."

"Nicholas Zelov went to Bishop Dimitri first and offered to sell him the amulets and the Book of Living before Joslyn started negotia¬tions. Garrett wanted to know why. I do, too, but it's not something we couldn't have handled." Emily made a face. "I know, I said I didn't want to talk about him, but here I am doing it."

"Because you can think of nothing else."

"I can think that I'm very glad to have my friend here. Though you should never have come."

"And I believe I should be here," Irana said quietly. "I knew when Garrett asked me to come that there was something waiting for me here. I don't what it is, but maybe God had a purpose."

"Staunton was waiting for you. I don't think much of that pur¬pose."

"No, Staunton is just a hurdle to overcome. It's something else that's waiting." She gazed once more at the gray clouds that didn't seem to move in the still sky. "And none of it will be your fault or your doing, Emily."

Emily felt a chill. "That's a good way to lighten my day."

Irana smiled. "Stop fretting. It may be a happy purpose. Most of God's plans are full of joy." She took Emily's hand. "Now we will go back so that we won't upset Garrett's plans. He seems to want us out of here and on the road."

"He wants to protect us."

"And there's nothing really wrong with that in spite of your re¬sentment at his interference in your independence. It's his nature." Her pace increased as she dropped Emily's hand. "We have no light¬house, but the farmhouse will do. Race me?"

"Why not?" It was a surprise that she welcomed, a return to the routine of Mykala, and perhaps a sign of that healing Irana had spo¬ken about.

Emily took off running. She could feel the cool wind in her hair, and Irana was beside her. For this single moment, everything was good and right. Not perfect. But she would take it.