Down to the Wire (12 page)

Her eyes snapped open at the exact second Gio upped the rhythm.

She whirled away, tapping the cymbals to Gio’s beat. Her long black hair and loose burgundy skirt flowed with every movement.

Katarina circled Gio and then came straight toward us.

Leveling her eyes on Wirenut, she crooked her finger. He stepped from the small group.

She trailed her hand down his bare arm and clasped the tips of his fingers, pulling him into the center of the group.

She circled around him,
taptap taptap
, crossed her arms,
taptap taptap
, moved them at different angles,
taptap taptap.
He followed her movement with his eyes.

Her skirt swept his legs. Her hair brushed his arms. She closed her eyes,
taptap taptap
, then opened them and gazed straight into his.

Strangely enough, he didn’t look nervous. More hypnotized than anything else. Totally blocked to anything but her. I couldn’t fathom performing that dance, alone or in a crowd.

The music came to an end, and I applauded along with the small gathering. We all tossed coins into Gio’s guitar case.

I walked up to Wirenut, who hadn’t moved since the music stopped.

“Hi.” I greeted Katarina.

She kissed my right cheek and then my left. She did the same to Wirenut, and he grinned. He had it bad for this girl.

Katarina slipped the tiny cymbals from her fingers. “That was the Sotrys. It’s the oldest Rissalan dance. I perform it almost every week with Gio. What’d you think?”

“It’s gorgeous,” I answered.

“Wow.” Wirenut shook his head. “That was…wow.”

Katarina and I laughed.

“Do the girls dance like that in America?”

Wirenut blew out a breath. “None that I know.”

“Come. I want you to meet Gio.” She handed the old man the cymbals. “
Vjiti est na gsoipft, Stan epf Dana.
These are my friends, Stan and Dana,” she translated.

He extended his weathered hand, and we shook it.

“
Gio mowit up vji cuev piyv vu uast.
Gio lives on the boat next to ours.”

The old man nodded. “
Jux na gevjis ot?
”

“He asked how my father is.” Sadness replaced her carefree mood. “
Vufez’t e huuffez.
Today’s a good day.”

Gio began strumming his guitar as another small group formed around him. “
Vimm jon vjeplt gus vji muctvis.
”

“Tell him thanks for the lobster,” she interpreted, then kissed the old man good-bye. “
O xomm.
I will.”

“Is your father okay?” I asked Katarina after we left the small group, although I knew something wasn’t right.

She lowered her gaze to the cobblestone beneath our feet. “He has a brain tumor. Doctors have given him six months.”

Whoa.
“Are you okay?” Stupid question. Of course she wasn’t okay. Her mother’s dead, and her father’s about to die.

Katarina gave us a somber smile. “Actually, I am okay. I’ve known for a while and have had time to adjust.”

Wirenut put a comforting arm around her. “Who are you gonna live with?”

She wrapped her arm around his waist. “My uncle and aunt.”

We crossed through a tent filled with hats and clothes.

“You mentioned lobster. Is that what your dad does?” It made sense. People who lived on boats probably fished for a living.

“No. My father’s a businessman. Investments, real estate, and more, but I don’t keep up with it.”

Businessman and boat living didn’t go together in my mind.

Katarina smiled. “Anyway, what happened this morning? You took off so quick.”

“We,” I fibbed, “remembered something we were supposed to do.”

“Oh.” She waved around the marketplace. “Mind if I join you?”

Wirenut stepped to the side. “Lead the way.”

We followed her off the sunlit sidewalk and ducked into a shaded tent filled with bright silks. She raised her hand in greeting. “
Jimmu.
”

From the other side of a table, a small girl grinned. “
Jimmu, Katarina. Jux esi zua?
”

Katarina nodded. “
Gopi. Vjepl zua. Fu zua piif epzvjoph?
”

The girl shook her head. “
Pu.
”

From my back pocket, I pulled out my English/Rissalan dictionary and began flipping through it.

Katarina tapped the dictionary. “She asked me how I was and I told her fine. Then I asked her if she needed anything, and she said no.”

I laughed. “Thanks.”

The girl nodded to another customer, and they began discussing the fabrics. Or at least I assumed they were discussing fabrics.

Katarina trailed a finger down a bundle of white silk. “Her name’s Rashon. She runs her family’s business.”

I glanced over at the shiny-faced, happy girl. “She runs the business? She’s just a kid.”

“Twelve.”

Wow. That’s a lot of responsibility for a twelve-year-old.
Then again, at twelve I was being watched by the government for recruitment. Who would’ve figured?

Katarina waved good-bye to the little girl and led the way from the shaded tent back onto the sunlit cobblestone walkway. “I just wanted to check in on her. Oh, look.” She stopped at a tattoo booth.

Behind the small table sat a…well, I suppose “a warrior” described him best. Large, muscular, no shirt, long dreadlocks, Polynesian. Ancient tribal tattoos decorated his face. He worked on a woman’s back, designing a snake.

“I
love
tattoos. I’d never get one. I’m too much of a wimp for the needles. But I
love
them.” Katarina whipped around as if suddenly struck by a thought. “Does either of you have one?”

I shook my head. “I’m a wimp, too.”

Wirenut lifted his T-shirt sleeve and showed her the thorn tattoo circling his upper bicep. I remembered the first time I met him, I thought it was the coolest thing.

She traced her finger all the way around it and looked up at Wirenut.

Okay, time for me to make my exit. These two needed to be alone. “I’m, um, going to check out the jewelry.”

Without taking her eyes off Wirenut, Katarina nodded. “The jewelry lady hand makes each item.”

I crossed the cobblestone path. An old, sun-charred lady sat on the ground twining gold wire. Necklaces and earrings decorated the blanket surrounding her, each one unique in its own way. Kneeling, I fingered a row of silver earrings.

I glanced over my shoulder back to the tattoo booth. Wirenut and Katarina had gone. With a smile to the jewelry lady, I got to my feet and headed from the marketplace.

Outside the market I spotted Wirenut and Katarina sitting beneath an olive tree on a cliff. The ocean stretched in front of them, sparkling in the sun. A constant dry, warm breeze blew the water’s salty scent past. Neither of them spoke as they watched dolphins lazily peak the blue horizon. Muted sounds from the marketplace flowed past.

Comfortable. Content. Cozy. Words that streamed through my mind as I watched the two of them. They couldn’t have asked for a better romantic afternoon.

God, I missed David.

They glanced at each other, lips curved slightly. Lifting his hand, he tucked her dark hair behind her ear and asked her something. With a smile, she nodded.

Bbbzzzbbbzzzbbbzzz.

They jumped apart, and I snapped from my trance.

Our phones. With a quick glance at the
^***
readout, TL’s code, I strode down the hill to where Wirenut and Katarina sat.

Clenching his jaw, Wirenut snapped his cell off his pants and
checked the display. He turned to Katarina. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s all right.” She pushed up off the ground. “I have to go anyway.”

He helped her up. “Café? Tomorrow morning?”

She smiled. “Sure.”

I didn’t want to remind him that we might not even be here tomorrow morning. Somehow, though, I knew that wouldn’t matter to him.

As she strolled away from us along the cliff, Wirenut put his hand over his heart. “That smile shot straight through me.”

“Bummer she’s here and you live in California.”

Ignoring my comment, Wirenut and I took off in the opposite direction back into the outdoor market toward our hotel. “She’s so perfect. I’ve never clicked with anyone like I have with her. And I’ve had only three conversations with her.” He half laughed. “Go figure. I asked her if I could kiss her. I’ve never asked any girl that question before.”

I smiled. It reminded me of David. He told me he never kissed a girl unless he knew she wanted to be kissed.

Our phones buzzed again with urgency, and we took off running.

[7]

Wirenut and I rushed
into the hotel room.

TL sat at the desk between the two beds. “Conference call. Now.” He activated the pyramid-shaped audio-feedback blocker in case someone passed by in the hall.

Wirenut and I situated ourselves on either side of him on the beds. TL ran his finger across the laptop’s touch pad, and the screen flickered on.

Chapling’s, Beaker’s, and David’s faces appeared, transmitted via satellite.

David looked right at me, and his eyes crinkled. I smiled as my stomach jingle-jangled.

Chapling waved. Next to him, Beaker remained blank-faced.

She’d dyed her green hair black, and I wondered, as I had many times before, what her natural color was.

A five-pointed crown popped up on the bottom left corner of the screen.

“Here’s the crown you’re after tonight,” Chapling began. “This belonged to the first king of Rissala. It’s currently located in the Museum of History and holds the next encrypted message. GiGi, tell us what you found out.”

I slipped on my glasses. “I input the crown’s dimensions into the SNI system and coded the chemical makeup I found on file. I interpreted the history and prohibited rendering of visual framework. Attributes of the ID class were discouraged, but I forced a break by controlling the elements. Traditionally, intrinsic scripts render subsequences. But after only a few moments, I addressed the stylistic treatment of pontdu. So that’s no longer an issue. However, with quote blocks marching ores, we secured a designated source document. Abbreviated text shows—”

“Uh,” David stuck his finger in the air, “you lost me way back at the crown’s dimensions.” He patted his T-shirt pocket. “And I forgot my secret decoder ring. Can you make it simple for me? For us?”

This happened all the time with me. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

Chomping her gum, Beaker snorted.

Chapling perked up. “I understood you.”

I gave him a thank-you-but-of-course-you-understood-me-you’re-a-nerd-too smile.

He bounced his bushy red brows, and I silently laughed. I adored Chapling.

TL shifted. “You’re doing fine, GiGi. Finish up.”

I took a second to ungeek all the mumble jumble in my brain. “After digging through various online archives, I discovered crowns have been used for centuries to hide objects. The encrypted message should be located in one of the jewels decorating the crown’s five points. We don’t have time to remove the
jewels and break them all open. Beaker, this is where you come in.”

With a nod, Beaker took the gum out of her mouth. “Each crown point has a ruby and an emerald. One drop of barium gentrea will expose any imperfection in a ruby. Two drops of carmine nitrate will take care of the emeralds. I suggest you try the rubies first. My research revealed that more people embed messages in those than in emeralds because rubies are easier to manipulate. Once they’re transparent you can see which one hides the message. Voilà. Nothing fancy about it.” She tossed her gum back in her mouth.

“What about the encrypted message?” I asked. “The fading. Anything on that yet?”

“Oxygen activates it.” She shook her head. “That’s all I know. I don’t know how to stop it. Sorry. You’ll just have to work quickly.”

“That’s all right,” TL said. “GiGi did it last time. She can do it again.”

Nothing like pressure.

“Where do we get these chemicals for the gems?” asked Wirenut.

“We have a local contact. I’ll take care of it.” TL reached for the laptop. “Still nothing on the burglar’s identity?”

Chapling shook his head.

“Okay. Signing off.” TL pressed the escape key, and the screen went black.

I didn’t even have a chance to look at David one last time.