There’s a hollow space in the torso. He shines his torchlight into it.
Empty. I groan.
“We aren’t done yet,” he comforts me, his gaze locked on the neck of the horse. “Look at the mane again. There might be more to it than meets the eye.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Henri and I split the mane into two distinct segments. Using extreme care, I examine one of them. The craftsmanship of the mane is remarkable. The metal twists and turns to create a flowing, graceful mass that evokes both lacework and fire.
My eyes glide over the artful curls until they catch on something. There, embedded in the coils and curves of the metal mane, lies… a key. It’s disguised as part of the mane in such a clever, ingenious way that I doubt that I’m seeing what I’m seeing for moment. But it really is a key. And, judging by the characteristics that I observe through the mane, it isthekey.
“Is that…?” Henri starts.
His voice trails off. He leans closer, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight. “I’ll be damned!”
My hands shake with the magnitude of our discovery, and I pass the segment of the mane to Henri. With fingers much steadier than mine, he inspects it closely, probes the metal, traces the outline of the key and tugs until he extracts it from its hiding place.
“We found it,” I whisper, barely controlling my voice. “We actually found it!”
Henri holds the key up to the overhead light. Similar to the other Montevor keys, its bow is lined with tiny beads. The shaft, unadorned but for a single engraving, tapers to the intricate bit.
“We used to think these keys were no more than three hundred years old,” I say. “But Darrel’s quest revealed they were older. Jeanne de Malafosse brought them to Mount Evor in 1479 when she married Prince Hugh Montevor.”
“Who was Jeanne de Malafosse?” Henri asks.
“A niece of Queen Charlotte of France, who herself was given a set of nine keys by her mother Anne of Cyprus, aka, Anne of Lusignan. Anne had gotten the set from her own mother, and so forth. A legend claims it goes all the way back to the fairy Mélusine.”
“Cool!” Henri hands the key over to me. “This one waited two centuries for a family reunion.”
Reverently, I take the key and admire it from every angle.
“Yooour Hiiighness! Henriii!” a female voice calls from a lower floor.
“Was that Audrey?” Henri knits his eyebrows. “She sounds funny.”
I smile. “She must’ve jumped out of bed still half asleep. While you were gearing up, I checked on her. She was sleeping like a log, so I let her be.”
“Are you up theeere?” Audrey yells again.
“Over here!” Henri yells.
Why doesn’t she use her phone?I pick up mine to call her and explain exactly where we are, but it’s her voice mail that answers.
“You’re in daaanger!” Audrey shouts, running out of breath by the last syllable. “I was ambushed… Too many! Sedated. Dizzy… They took my phone, gun! Pager, too… Landline’s cut.”
Henri and I leap to our feet.
She catches her breath, then shouts again, “If you can hear me, you know what to do! Ruuun, Your Hiiigh?—”
Her voice cuts off abruptly. There are noises and sounds of a tussle, followed by heavy footsteps of a several men running up the stairs.Kurt Ozzi!He found us.
Henri grabs my hand. “We run. Now, Gigi!”
I glance at the window.
“It’s too high to jump,” he says. “And we left the ropes in the attic.”
Damn!I don’t have enough time to do all the three things I need to do: get to the safe room, send out a distress signal and make sure Kurt doesn’t lay his hands on the key.
