Mystic Warrior

Finally, drained, panting for breath, the woman lay in a quivering mass on the bed. Nobody had heard the noise she’d made while struggling over the blaring punk music in the next unit.

Anxious to see what the future held, SEEKER4318 plunged his dagger into the woman’s stomach and ripped up through her breastbone. Blood poured onto the bed in a pulsing waterfall. Placing the knife to one side, SEEKER4318 pulled apart the wound he’d created and took out two handfuls of the woman’s insides for inspection.

He felt even more optimistic.

The Key of Shadows and the treasure of the Merovingian kings would be his soon enough.

All the signs pointed to a good resolution of his present problem.

5 (#ulink_01e339a0-f7e2-5755-a55b-66041f6958d7)

“What are you doing now?” Krauzer clicked off his smartphone and walked over to Annja, who’d placed the scrying crystal on a camera tripod a short distance from the wall where pages of Julio Gris’s manuscript hung.

“Checking for a hidden message.” Annja took the high-powered miniflashlight from her backpack and shone it through the crystal, concentrating on one of the flat spots.

“Inside the scrying crystal?” Krauzer scoffed.

“The manuscript Julio Gris left indicates that the message is concealed somewhere inside.” Annja moved the flashlight and the crystal at the same time.

The diffused beam of light shone through the crystal and onto the first manuscript page.

“You need to be careful with that,” Krauzer warned. “That’s one of a kind. I can’t replace that crystal in the movie. I’ve shot too many core scenes with it.”

“If you got a 3-D modeler, you could make one of these on a 3-D printer,” Orta told him.

“Movie audiences can tell when something’s real these days. They like real stuff in their movies.”

Annja looked at him. “This is supposed to belong to an elf witch.”

“Hey, viewers want to believe in elf witches and hobbits and dragons. I’m not going to argue with them. I’m going to give them what they want. In fact, I’ll give them bigger dragons than they’ve ever seen before.”

Ignoring the director, Annja continued to shine the light across the pages. She wasn’t frustrated yet, but her options were limited. And she was constantly aware of Krauzer growing more and more impatient.

“Did Julio Gris tell you to shine a flashlight through the crystal?” Krauzer asked smugly. “Because that right there would tell you that manuscript is a fake. They didn’t have flashlights back when Juan Cabrillo sailed to California, right?”

Annja ignored the question.

“Right?”

Knowing Krauzer wasn’t going to let up until he was answered, Annja said, “Right.”

“So we’re all done here? I’ve saved you from wasting more time. I can take my scrying crystal and get back to the studio, and you and the professor can look at old crap to your hearts’ delight.”

“Gris suggested using natural light or a candle flame to reveal the message,” Orta said. “We’re using a flashlight because it’s more accurate and it’s not daylight outside.”

Krauzer folded his arms. “Shining a light through a crystal sounds really stupid, if you ask me.”

“Have you ever heard of a magic lantern?” The frustration in Orta’s voice turned his words ragged.

“Of course I have. ‘Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.’ Aladdin’s lamp. Even Uncle Scrooge McDuck went looking for a magic lamp. That stuff’s all old.”

“A magic lantern,” Orta said in a louder voice, “was an early precursor to filmmaking.”

“So were hand puppets.”

Orta sighed. “I’m just saying that there was a basis for this use of the scrying ball.”

“Okay, but I’ve got to take that crystal and scoot. We’ve got an early shoot planned tomorrow. Morning sunlight doesn’t last forever.” Krauzer tapped his watch, then answered his ringing phone again.

Annja was thankful. The man was too accustomed to being in control. She rotated the crystal and shone the light through the other flat spots onto the pages.

Her back ached from the combination of constant bending and anticipation. Something had to be here. Unless the scrying crystal was not the one mentioned in the manuscript.

Or if the manuscript was a hoax.

Krauzer punched his phone off and returned to observe. “Well, that was good news.”

Neither Annja nor Orta bothered to ask what the good news was.

“That was Rita, my personal assistant. She had to wait until the cops left, but she got my gun back.”

Annja straightened and reconsidered the problem.

“So, you’re satisfied there aren’t any secret messages in the crystal?” Krauzer asked. “I can get back to the studio?”

The director’s words turned the possibilities around in Annja’s mind. She glanced at Orta. “I think we’ve been going at this wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Orta asked.

“Maybe the message is inside the crystal.” Annja pressed the flashlight onto one of the object’s flat areas. The light caused the crystal to glow softly as the illumination diffused through the twists and turns of the sparkling latticework contained within the thing.

“There’s nothing inside that crystal.” Krauzer shook his head and looked grumpy. “You’re wasting my time.”

Annja continued her search, but she became quickly discouraged when nothing turned up. The light caught various facets and reflected through the glass ovoid, squirming through to another side in some places and stopping in others. Occasionally, the light snaked back on itself and became looped.

Nothing made sense.

Pausing again, Annja glanced at the manuscript pages. They have to be part of this, she reasoned.

Krauzer sifted through the food cartons and muttered in displeasure. At least he was being somewhat quiet about his irritation.

A new thought struck Annja and she glanced up at Orta. “Let’s get the pages over here.”

Orta picked up the first page. “Shine the light through the pages?”

“That’s the only thing we haven’t tried.”

“The plastic protectors might interfere.” In spite of his misgivings, Orta held the first page against one of the flat spots on the crystal.