Son of the Morning

They set out just after lunch the next day, driving as far as possible, then they got out and walked. Storm clouds hovered to the west, out over the ocean, and the mountain shadows were purple under a gaudy blue and golden sky.

Grace had carefully considered the logistics. The documents had given the formula for time, but not for location. She decided that location didn’t change; where she was when she went back would be where she arrived. Standing in the middle of Creag Dhu’s ruins would have been perfect, but she hadn’t dared go close enough even to see it. She had to settle for getting as close as possible, then walking the rest of the way to the castle when she arrived in that time.

The narrow road they had chosen was little more than a path, and it gave out while they were still some three miles from the ruins. Gathering Grace’s things, the two women left the car and walked higher into the mountains.

The air was sweet and fresh, a bird’s cry high and lonely, Grace could already feel something tugging at her, a quiet anticipation, a need.

"Why don’t we just shoot the son of a bitch?" Harmony suggested suddenly, lifting her lemon-white head into the wind. Her nostrils flared, her pale green eyes narrowed. She looked like some exotic goddess of war, ready to slay her enemies. "It’s easier, neater, and a hell of a lot more likely to get the job done."

"Because it isn’t just Parrish, it’s the Foundation. Even if we kill him, another will take his place." She had finally reached that conclusion, and found a measure of peace in it. She would love simply to kill Parrish and be done with it, claim her vengeance, walk away. She couldn’t do it.The Foundation of Evil… she couldn’t let the Foundation get control of the Treasure.

She spotted the place where she wanted to be, and pointed it out to Harmony. The nest of rocks was almost al the peak of the mountain. Carefully they climbed up, their feet alternately sinking into damp sod and slipping on loose -rock. When they reached their goal, they stood quietly looking at the empty glen below, at the mist blowing in from the ocean. The Creag Dhu site wasn’t visible; it lay beyond the next mountain. The local folk said it was a bed of black rock, jutting against the ocean. Grace tried to picture it in her mind, but even though she had seen numerous archaeological sites, the image that formed was of the great castle when it was whole, looming dark against an angry gray sea.

"Are you sure you have everything?" Harmony asked, placing her bundle on the ground and quickly arranging the items.

"I’m sure." She had made a list while still in the States, and had begun making her preparations even then. According to the instructions, she had altered her diet more than a week ago, tailoring it to the specifications. She bent down and attached the electrodes to her ankles, taping them in place.

She sensed that her detachment worried Harmony. "I’m all right," she said in answer to an unvoiced concern. "If this doesn’t work-well, it just won’t work. I’ll get a shock, , but it won’t be enough to killme. "

"You hope," Harmony snarled, her irritation growing. "If itdoes work-I don’t know if any of this stuff will go with me, or if I’ll suddenly appear there stark naked. If it doesn’t go, carry it back to the village and do what you want with it."

"Sure. I’ve always wanted a velvet dress that’s three sizes too little and a foot too short." ."I’m leaving the laptop anyway. I’ve deleted all my notes from the hard disk, but my journal is still on there. I’ve put everything down. If anything happens to me and I don’t make it back… " She shrugged. "At least there will be a record of what happened."

"How long am I supposed to wait?" Harmony asked furiously.

"I don’t know. I’ll leave that up to you."

"Damn it, Grace!" Harmony turned on her, face red with fury, but she bit back her angry words and merely shook her head. "I can’t reach you, can I? In your head, you’re already there".

"I know you don’t understand it. I don’t, either." The wind plastered her gown to her form and lifted her hair, streaming it behind her. The glen stretched below her but she didn’t see it, her eyes looking beyond. "It’s been a year since Ford and Bryant were murdered. I haven’t been able to cry for them yet. It’s as if I don’t deserve to, because I haven’t done anything to avenge them."

"You haven’t had time to cry." Harmony’s voice was rough. "You’ve been busy just stayin’ alive."

"I haven’t been to their graves. I was back inMinneapolis for six months, and I didn’t look for their graves. I didn’t put flowers on them."

"Damn good thing. From what you’ve told me, this Parrish bastard would have men watching the cemetery. They’da nailed you for sure."

"Maybe. But I couldn’t have gone even if I had known it was safe. Not yet. Maybe when I get back."

After that, there didn’t seem to be anything left to say. Harmony hugged her, green eyes wet, then walked quickly away.

Grace sat down on the rocks and opened the laptop, turning it on. She logged into her journal and tried to gather her thoughts. It was useless; they darted about like swallows. Finally she stopped trying and simply began typing.

"May 17th- revenge takes over your life. I never realized this before, but then I’ve never hated before. One moment my life was ordinary and secure, happy-and the next moment everything was gone. My husband, my brother… I lost them both.

"Odd how things change, how in the blink of an eye one’s life goes from the ordinary-even mundane-to a nightmare landscape of horror, disbelief, and almost crippling grief. No, I haven’t cried. I’ve held the grief locked inside me, a wound that can’t heal, because I don’t dare let it out. I have to concentrate on what must be done, rather than allow myself the luxury of mourning those I’ve lost. If I falter, if I let my guard down even the slightest, then I’ll be dead too.