The Fire. Katherine Neville

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ brow. ‘ ‘We’re just looking for a few good men.’ ‘

      ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ asked Lily as she stepped into the room. She had stripped to her skintight ski outfit, which clung to every curve.

      ‘Consorting with the enemy,’ I suggested, indicating Vartan. I grabbed Lily by the arm, took her aside, and hissed, ‘Have you blanked out all of the past? What were you thinking, bringing him along? Besides, he’s young enough to be your son!’

      ‘Grandmaster Azov is my protégé,’ Lily announced indignantly.

      ‘Is that what they’re calling them these days?’ I cited Key’s earlier observation.

      Pretty unlikely, since Lily and I both knew that Azov’s ELO ranking was two hundred points higher than hers had ever been.

      ‘He’s a grandmaster?’ said Key. ‘Grandmaster of what?’

      I let that pass, since Mother had eradicated all mention of chess from our family vocabulary. Lily remained undaunted – though she was about to unload some further unexpected information to my already overloaded brain.

      ‘Please don’t blame me for Vartan’s presence here,’ she informed me calmly. ‘After all – your mother invited him! All I did was to give him a ride!’

      Just as I was recovering from that broadside, a small, damp rodent – about four inches tall and sporting soggy, fuchsia hair ribbons – came barreling into the room. The disgusting beast flew into the air and leapt into Aunt Lily’s waiting arms. It lapped her face with its equally bright pink tongue.

      ‘My darling Zsa-Zsa,’ said Aunt Lily, cooing at the beast, ‘you and Alexandra haven’t been introduced! She would love to hold you for a moment, wouldn’t she?’ And before I could protest, she’d palmed the writhing thing off to me.

      ‘I’m afraid I’m still searching for a line for this one,’ Key admitted, watching our doggie display with amusement.

      ‘How about “Familiarity breeds contempt”?’ I quipped. But I should never have opened my mouth: The revolting dog tried to stick its tongue beween my teeth. I tossed it back to Lily in disgust.

      While we three were playing patty-cake, my archnemesis Vartan Azov had likewise removed his furs and stepped into the room. He was dressed all in black, a turtleneck sweater and slim trousers, with a simple gold neck chain that cost more than any chess tournament winnings I’d ever heard of. He ran his hand through his unruly mop of black curls, as he was gazing around at the totem carvings and sweeping expanse of our family lodge.

      I could certainly see why his appearance had stopped traffic at the Mother Lode. Apparently, over the past decade my erstwhile opponent had been working out with something more physically strenuous than a chessboard. But pretty is as pretty does, as Key might say. His good looks didn’t make his presence here – most especially under these circumstances – any more palatable to me. Why on earth would my mother invite here the very man whose last appearance in our lives had heralded the end of my chess career and resulted in my father’s death?

      Vartan Azov was crossing the room directly to where I stood beside the fire – there seemed to be no avenue of escape.

      ‘This is a remarkable house,’ he said, in that soft Ukrainian accent – a voice that had always seemed so sinister when he was a boy. He was looking up toward the skylights filled with rosy light. ‘I’ve not seen anything like it anywhere. The front doors – the stonework, these carved animals looking down upon us. Who built it all?’

      Nokomis answered; it was a well-known tale in these parts.

      ‘This place is legendary,’ she said. ‘It was the last joint project – maybe the only joint project – between the Diné and the Hopi. They’ve been fighting turf wars over the outside cattle and oil intruders ever since. They built this lodge for Alexandra’s ancestor. They say she was the first Anglo medicine woman.’

      ‘My mother’s great-grandmother,’ I added, ‘a real character, by all accounts. She was born in a covered wagon and stayed on to study the local pharmaceuticals industry.’

      Lily rolled her eyes at me, as if to suggest it must’ve been mainly hallucinogenic mushrooms, if the decor was any indication.

      ‘I can’t believe it,’ my aunt chimed in. ‘How could Cat have been holed up here all these years? Charm is one thing, but what about the amenities?’ She strolled around the room with Zsa-Zsa wriggling beneath her arm, and with one bloodred-lacquered fingernail she left a trail through the furniture dust. ‘I mean, the important questions. Where’s the nearest beauty salon? Who picks up and delivers the laundry?’

      ‘Not to mention where’s the so-called kitchen,’ I agreed, motioning to the hearth. ‘Mother is not exactly prepared for entertaining.’ Which only served to make this birthday boum all the stranger still.

      ‘I’ve never met your mother,’ Vartan commented, ‘though naturally, I was a great admirer of your father. I would never have imposed upon you like this, but I was so honored when she offered her invitation to stay here—’

      ‘Stay here?’ I said, nearly choking on the words.

      ‘Cat insisted that we must stay here at the house,’ Lily confirmed. ‘She said there was plenty of room for everyone, and that there were no decent hotels nearby.’

      Right on both counts – unfortunately for me. But there was another problem, as Lily was quick to point out.

      ‘It seems that Cat still hasn’t returned from her outing. That isn’t like her,’ she said. ‘After all, we’ve dropped everything to come here. Has she left any inkling that might explain why she invited us all, and then left?’

      ‘Nothing conspicuous,’ I said evasively. What else could I say?

      Thank God I’d had the presence of mind to stash that lethal game in the pillow sack before Vartan Azov landed on my doorstep. But Mother’s encrypted note atop the piano, along with the hollow black queen and her contents, were still burning a hole in my pocket. Not to mention my brain.

      How could a cardboard plaque suddenly surface here when, so far as I knew, it was only seen by my father and me ten years ago and thousands of miles away? In the shock and pandemonium following my father’s death at Zagorsk, I’d hardly thought of that strange woman and the message she’d handed me just before the game. Then later, I’d assumed the card had disappeared, just as she had. Until now.

      I needed to get Vartan Azov out of the way – and quickly – so I could broach some of these issues with my aunt. But before I could think how, I saw that Lily had halted before the British campaign desk and set Zsa-Zsa down on the floor. She was following with her fingertips the trail of wire that led from the telephone to a hole in the side of the desk. She yanked at the drawer, to no avail.

      ‘Those damned drawers always stick,’ I told her from across the room. But my heart was churning again: How could I not have thought of something so obvious first? Inside that drawer was my mother’s rustic answering machine. I went over as Lily pried the drawer open with a letter opener. This certainly wasn’t my choice of audience to listen to Mother’s private tape, but beggars can’t be choosers, as Key would say.

      Lily glanced up at me and pushed the Play button. СКАЧАТЬ