Keir exhaled heavily. “We must find those students—along with whoever is helping them.”
Burman looked over her shoulder. “Between the local police and your small army, even a mountain as large as Antelao will offer our targets little refuge.”
“Yet, they escaped us before.”
“With the aid of theGardiens,” she reminded him. “A resource that is no longer available to them. At the moment, they are cut off and alone.”
“If so, it also means Tissot’s mole will be of no use to us.”
Burman shrugged. “One never knows, so it’s best you brought the cardinal along.”
“I still don’t trust the bastard.”
“You don’t need to. Instead, put your trust in what has proven true already.”
“What’s that?”
“The others made one mistake.” She turned to him. “They’ll do so again.”
40
10:10 a.m.
San Vito di Cadore, Italy
Duncan climbed the steep path toward a timbered cabin buried at the edge of a pine forest. The home’s wood shingles carried a heavy growth of moss, as if the place had grown out of the woodlands.
Laurent had hired a small bus—normally used to shuttle skiers to the resorts—to take them to this remote cabin. But the driver had refused to haul his bus up this precipitous entry road. So, they had to trek the last quarter mile on their own.
“Our guide lives way out here?” Archie asked, already huffing from the thin air.
Laurent trudged on. “Yes. I’ve made all the arrangements.”
Duncan squinted ahead. “How did you hear about this person?”
“Locals in town. They said no one knows the highlands better. Though, their recommendation came with a warning.”
“What do you mean?” Sharyn asked, adjusting her coat.
Like the rest of them, Sharyn had donned a ski parka, Gore-Tex boots, and a thick cap with furred ear flaps. They each had been given a stuffed pack, holding gear that included rope, a collapsible shovel, a flashlight, and, strapped to the outside, a pair of snowshoes.
Laurent carried the largest pack, crammed with camping equipment and a four-season tent. He turned to Sharyn. “I was cautioned that our guide can be a bit eccentric. Likely from spending too much time alone in the backcountry. The woman is a wildlife biologist. She’s well known for—”
“Wait. The guide is awoman?” Duncan was unable to keep the shock from his voice. Unfortunately, the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
“And that’s a problem?” Sharyn challenged him pointedly.
Duncan’s face heated up, defying the cold bite to the air. “Of... Of course not. I was just surprised.”
“I could tell.”
Archie clapped Duncan on the shoulder. “Keeping digging that hole, mate.”
Duncan had already pissed Sharyn off. After arriving in town, he had suggested she should stay behind with Tag and Naomi. She had not taken this recommendation well, questioning why he thought he was any better fit for the trek ahead. She was certainly aerobically stronger than him, what with all her marathon runs. In fact, it was how Sharyn had first caught his attention, lapping around the Exeter campus in running shorts and a T-shirt. Days ago—which felt like a lifetime—his arrival at the Old Library had not been happenstance. While he had needed to pick up the book he had ordered from the British Library, he had timed his visit to be there when she was.
Not that I’d ever admit to such stalking behavior.
Still, Sharyn’s adamance had little to do with her fitness. Under her parka, she still carried Saint-Germain’s book. She refused to give up the volume, not even allowing Laurent to take it. She had been clear why: Wright gave this to me, sacrificed his life to protect it. I’ll be the Thirteenth Keeper until I’m no longer needed in this role.
