“Are we really going to put a vault in?”

“Why not? Now that we’re rich, are we going to stop treasure hunting?”

“I was thinking travel would broaden my horizons.” Gabe just cocked an eyebrow, provoking a more truthful response. “Probably not.”

“Then yes, we need a vault. Even if all of us end up splitting up and going our separate ways, it will always be our base.” A maudlin mood seemed to have settled on Gabe.

“You think that’s what will happen?”

“Of course it will. And it should. I mean, maybe not forever, but we’re already drawing apart. Barak and Estelle spend lots of time in London—or in Cornwall, he’ll be at her place. I’m pleased for him. Zee is already half moved out. Herne knows what will happen with Nahum and Olivia. I quite liked us all living together. It was chaotic, but fun.”

“What about you and Shadow?”

“We like White Haven. We’ll stay there, in and around trips and jobs, of course. I’m going to build, spruce up the outbuildings.”

Niel smiled. “I like it there, too. I’ll stay, around my own travel. It’s home now. I don’t think Ash is going anywhere yet, or Eli, with his bloody harem and his obligations to Ravens’ Wood.”

That seemed to cheer Gabe up. “I guess that’s right.”

“I like the witches, too. Plus, I want rooms in the barn.”

“Done. You’ll get to design them, too.”

“Excellent. Besides, we still have a business. Shadow needs excitement, or she’ll implode with boredom. So will I, for that matter. It doesn’t stop us working together, even if we all start to do other things separately.”

“True. But I guess we should focus on tonight. I meant it. We’re just listening.”

Niel felt the keen edge of his blade and sniggered. “Sure we are. And pigs are flying over Venice right now.”

Twenty

Maggie snorted with derision, hands on hips. “Find a fucking spell to get rid of a Fallen Angel? You’re all fucking mad!”

“Do you have to be so negative?” Harlan complained. “If the Igigi could do it, so can we!”

“The Igigi were half-Gods themselves, you oaf, you are not.” She had only just found out about the Igigi, and she was pretty miffed it was the first she’d heard. So many secrets.

“But we have witches, and a bloody great emerald cave full of knowledge.” Harlan swept his arms wide to encompass the cave they stood in. “And Nephilim, who can read any language in the world.”

“I’m trying to be realistic.”

“You’re being a Debbie Downer. Or should I say a Moaning Maggie?”

“Actually,” Jackson intervened, “in order to be grammatically congruent, it should probably be Maggie Moaner.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, both of you.” Maggie glared at them, feeling overwhelmed and useless, which was partly the reason for her anger. She was also annoyed at having wasted hours looking for information on Lamberti, only to be told to search for Jiri and Beneventi references instead. Except, there were no mentions of Beneventi at all.

JD was making copious notes on an enormous roll of paper he’d spread across a long table in the centre of the cavern, close to the eternal flame, but he looked up then. “You have the mouth of a bawdy fish wife found in the back alleys of Spitalfields. It makes me quite homesick. If you threw in a few Elizabethan insults, it would be even better.”

“Shut up, old man. You cock-wombling knave. Does that help?”

“Cock-wombling isn’t quite Elizabethan, but I like it.” JD wagged his finger at Harlan. “I like her. You can bring her back.”

Harlan rolled his eyes. “Typical. I put up with months of crap from him, and you insult him and he likes it.”

Maggie smirked. “I’m very charming, in my own way. So, you’re serious? About the spell?”

“Yes.” Harlan shrugged off his leather jacket and placed it over the back of a chair. “Jenkins gave us brilliant information. We know the source of the jewels now. It hasn’t been an age-old conspiracy. Yes, there are a few families and their connections to track down, but now that Lamberti has told us where his list is, that makes things easier. Plus, we know where to find the horn, too.”

“There’s still a lot to do, though,” Jackson said. He crossed to JD’s side to look at the rough plan of the cave he’d started to make, and Maggie and Harlan followed him.

The London team, as Maggie called it, had arrived a couple of hours before, and searching and mapping the cave had begun in earnest. Jackson and Maggie had continued to read the selected books in JD’s library, discovering all sorts of interesting snippets of information, but none particularly salient to their investigation. Reading JD’s own notes from over a hundred years ago was weird. She’d also ended up searching for information on JD. He really had been the court magician to Queen Elizabeth I. Jackson wasn’t lying. Unbelievable.

Their search had been fuelled by sandwiches and soup brought up by the immortal Anna. Maggie rolled the word around her mouth. Immortal. How weird would that be? Lonely, perhaps. Or maybe exciting? So much time to explore and read and live expansively. It seemed a very delicious thought. Maggie presumed that Anna must do more than cook and clean for JD, or she would have a very boring eternity. The woman, she decided, had unknown depths.

As had this place.

She’d been shocked earlier, and had barely taken the emerald cave in, but after hours spent buried in books, she and Jackson needed a break and had decided to see what was going on. Entering it again was actually intoxicating. She could lose hours here. Days, even. With no natural light, and with lamps burning constantly, and the smoky swirl of incense, she already felt disoriented. It was as if she had been transported back thousands of years. The rugs were of high quality, and she was sure the lamps suspended from the pillars and ceiling were of solid gold and silver. As for the flame in the centre, that was just weird. The place reeked of magic and knowledge.

“So,” Maggie asked, inspecting the scrawl of JD’s writing, “what have you found so far?”

“The cave is split into sections. Roughly. There are areas that pertain to countries, most of which have now vanished, or have changed their name, like Persia, for example. I guess Hermes would never have thought that Sumer or Assyria would vanish. There are areas that reference the elements, the base of everything and the root of all magic, and then there are histories. Endless histories.” He sighed, his hands massaging his lower back as he straightened.

“Histories of who?” Harlan asked.

“Biblical figures. Adam, for instance.”

Maggie was sure the room actually spun around her. “The Adam? As in Adam and Eve?”

“Yes. But, my dear, he was not the first man created from clay. Oh, no. Just a mortal who had evolved like all of us from the vast soup of the oceans. What the old God granted him was knowledge. And a not very compliant wife, eh?” He winked at Maggie.

“Women are not meant to be compliant. What would men have to complain about?” she shot back. “We’re here to remind you not to be so fucking self-obsessed. That was a giant fail.”

JD threw his head back, roaring with laughter. “Oh yes, you can definitely visit more often.”

Harlan cleared his throat. “Anything about angels?”

JD pointed to his right. “Nahum and Barak are examining an area over there. There are lists and lists of angels. Fallen and otherwise.”

Startled, Jackson asked, “Are there spells to control them, or lessen their influence?”

“Give us a chance! I am giving you broad brush strokes only.”

“Are Estelle and Olivia with them?” Maggie asked.

“Yes, taking notes. Lucien, too, I believe.” JD sighed, eyes narrowing as he stared at the flames in the centre. “But whether we find a solution for our most pressing issue? I don’t know. We’ve barely mapped a fraction of it. With Nahum and Barak, however, we stand a chance. The rest will take me a lifetime.” He smiled at them. “It’s a good job that I have many of them. How did you fare with those notes I left you?”

Maggie scowled. “Badly. That first reference to the alchemist was interesting, but he didn’t really give any details, did he? There was no mention of Beneventi or the other names, other than The Consortium. It was all very secret squirrel.”