Dagger Magic

Chapter Thirty-Five

ADAM came groggily to his senses to find himself lying face down on the deck of the Lady Gregory. His chest felt bruised and his mouth tasted of bile. His ears were ringing. He heard someone coughing beside him and lifted his head to see Peregrine, half on his hands and knees, retching as a waterlogged Magnus grabbed him around the middle, helping him clear his lungs. The artist's face was a pasty shade of green, similar to the olive-drab blanket Aoife laid around his shoulders, and he hugged it around him, shivering, as Magnus helped him collapse to a sitting position.

Rolling gingerly onto his side, Adam tried to speak, but nothing came out but a soggy-sounding cough.

"I'd stick to breathing just now, if I were you," said McLeod's gruff voice.

Strong hands helped him sit, as another blanket was drawn around his shoulders. A coughing fit brought up what seemed like gallons of sea water and left him wheezing, lightheaded. When he could focus again, he saw that McLeod, like Magnus, was drenched to the skin, and guessed that the two must have been responsible for pulling him and Peregrine out of the water after the explosion. Part of him wanted simply to lie down and sleep off the shock and the chill of near-drowning. But there were too many things he wanted - and needed - to know.

He cleared his throat and tried again. "Where's Raeburn?"

"Flown the coop," McLeod said sourly. "There wasn't much we could do to stop him, by the time we were sure the two of you hadn't drowned. Magnus called the mainland on the cell phone and put out an APB on the plane - our radio's kaput - but I doubt it'll do much good. This part of the coast is honeycombed with places where he could have hidden another boat to take him well away from here."

"And the chest?" Adam's voice was starting to come back to him.

McLeod allowed himself a brief, wolfish grin. "We've still got that. Raeburn didn't have it all his own way."

Moving cautiously, Adam edged himself back to lean against the side of a locker. From where he sat, he could see the open sea through the Lady G's railings. There was no sign of the submarine. McLeod glanced in the direction of his gaze, then looked back at him and answered the question Adam had not yet summoned strength to ask.

"I don't know whether Raeburn actually rigged that explosion, or whether all that jostling was enough to set off one or more of those fifty-year-old torpedoes," he said. "Or maybe it was some after-reaction from all that magic being released. Whatever the case, the sub is history again."

"Which is all for the best," Aoife said, leaning down to press a mug of hot coffee into Adam's icy hands. "Can you imagine the flap it would have caused if she'd been found adrift and intact?"

Adam managed a shaky swallow of coffee, suppressing another cough, then nodded.

"Requiring a nimble display of press-obfuscation, at very best," he agreed.

"I do love your understatements," Aoife said with a chuckle. "Fortunately, Tory Sound is littered with old wrecks. If any of the wreckage from U-636 should eventually turn up, it will be assumed that it came from the sea-bottom - just one more wreck among so many others."

"What about the cave?" Peregrine asked hoarsely, over his own steaming mug.

"I'm about to deal with that,'' Magnus replied, getting to his feet.' 'First, though, I want to check again on our guest below."

In the heat of battle, Adam had forgotten the crewman from the Rose of Tralee.

"Is he awake?" he asked.

"Aye," said Magnus, "and pretty shaken up to find himself under lock and key. I'd cuffed him to a berth, just for good measure, since we didn't know who he was. I've given him to understand that the outfit he and his mates were messing with was a band of terrorists out to recover a cache of arms. When the cache goes up - in, say, about two minutes from now - I think he'll be relieved enough at the thought of staying out of jail not to pry too deeply into the matter. He hasn't said anything about seeing any monks with funny knives, so maybe he doesn't remember.

"The chaps on the Rose present different problems, but I'll think of something before the authorities get here. The one's no problem; the terrorist story will stick, so far as he's concerned. And the Lynx chap can't very well tell the truth without digging himself in deeper. We might make a hijacking charge stick, if the crew from the Rose are cooperative, but I expect we'll eventually have to let him skate. At least we'll have given him a scare, and we'll know to keep an eye out for him in the future."

He disappeared down into the hold. While he was gone, Adam prevailed upon McLeod to help him move around to the other side of the ship. To his surprise, the Lady Gregory was standing several hundred yards off the dark entrance to the sea cave opened by the departing submarine. Peregrine retrieved his glasses from his coat pocket and came limping to join him at the rail, gazing silently at the cave and the Rose of Tralee still lying at anchor off the little crescent beach. When Magnus returned a few minutes later, he was carrying a shoulder-fired rocket-launcher and a small but heavy canvas satchel.

"A parting gift from my friendly armorer," he explained as he set it up and aimed a charge at the shore. "We've only got two shots to get this right, so keep your fingers crossed. And it would be nice to have the second shot to dispose of that torpedo that ran up on the beach. Hold your ears, everyone.''

He succeeded with his first shot. A rumbling blast inshore collapsed the remains of the cave where U-636 had slept hidden for so long with its dangerous cargo. The second shot accounted for the inconvenient torpedo. As the Hunting Party watched the du.- clear away in the moonlight, Peregrine alone appeared dissatisfied.

"What's the matter?" Adam asked, as Eamonn advanced the throttles and began easing the Lady G in the direction of the Rose.

The young artist sighed and adjusted the set of his blanket, turning to ease back down on the deck with his back against the rail.

"This is all very well and good for cutting short all the official loose ends," he complained, "but I can't help wondering what Raeburn will be getting up to next. We know he got at least one crate of diamonds aboard that plane - enough of a fortune to keep him in business for a good long time to come."

"True enough," Aoife agreed. "On the other hand, he didn't get all the diamonds and he didn't get the Termas."

Peregrine's gaze shifted uneasily toward the sodden trunk in the stern.

"I suppose you're right," he acknowledged. "Only now we've got the Termas, what are we going to do with them? I mean, Lama Tseten certainly seemed to think they're very, very dangerous. Maybe we should have just let them sink to the bottom, along with the sub."

"We couldn't have been sure they'd be destroyed," Adam said, crouching down beside him as Aoife and the two policemen headed for the bow, to deal with the occupants of the Rose. "It simply would have postponed the day when someone else would have to reckon with the danger they represent. Things like this have a way of resurfacing - no pun intended. If true Termas can be expected to turn up when they're needed, who's to say that these false Termas may not do the same?

"No, the proper custody of these texts belongs to Tseten Rinpoche. If they can be destroyed, he'll know how to do it; and if they can't, I can think of no one I'd trust more, to negate their dark powers and see that they don't fall into the wrong hands again. As for the diamonds," he continued, "count them lost along with so many other treasures. Except for this."

Digging into a soggy trouser pocket, he dragged out a sparkling blue-white gemstone. Rainbow fire winked behind its facets as he handed it into Peregrine's shrinking palm. The artist's eyes went wide as he lifted it closer to his astonished gaze.

"Adam, this thing must be five or six carats!" he exclaimed. ''Where did you get it?"

Adam smiled wearily. "I felt it roll under my foot as we were heading off up the deck to retrieve the chest full of texts. It must have come from the crate that Noel shot. It seemed wasteful to leave it, so I scooped it up as I went past. Give it to Julia as a wedding present from the Hunting Lodge - though I shouldn't call it that, if I were you. Maybe it will be some compensation for her having so many interruptions on her honeymoon."

Peregrine looked at the diamond again. "It's glorious," he said, "but I don't really think I ought to accept it. Even if it wasn't such a valuable stone, I don't think I'd feel right giving Julia a Nazi diamond to wear."

Adam smiled inwardly. It was a worthy sentiment.

"In that case, let me suggest that you sell it and use the proceeds as a down payment on your first home. As I recall, there's a lovely little chapel just a few miles from Strathmourne that's just been made redundant. I'm not eager to kick you out of the gate lodge, by any means," he added, at Peregrine's almost hurt glance. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like, but you and Julia will want some privacy to start out your marriage; and I'm thinking the chapel would convert to a splendid residence for an up-and-coming portrait artist who'll be wanting to start a family. I doubt the church commissioners would want much for it - and the work involved in restoring and converting it would provide a lot of local employment."

"I don't know," Peregrine said doubtfully. "I'm not sure it would be right."

"Let's consider the other options, then," Adam said, easing his back and trying to find a more comfortable position. "If we toss that diamond overboard with the rest, nobody benefits. Or it might be appropriate if at least part of the proceeds went to Tseten, to further the work on Holy Island."

"It seems like if anyone's entitled, he is," Peregrine allowed.

"In a sense, perhaps," Adam agreed. "However, Tseten will receive guardianship of the false Termas - which is worth far more than any financial consideration, for however good a cause. And while he gave me the teaching that enabled us to effect the capture of the Termas, we were the ones to put our lives on the line."

"That's true enough, I suppose."

"There's no 'I suppose' about it," Adam declared. "It isn't often that we benefit financially from one of our operations; and when we do, I prefer that we take care of our own. You're just newly married. You could have been killed here today. I know you took the risk willingly, and I can only be thankful for your courage and commitment, but I'd like to know that Julia has been provided for, if you're someday called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice - and we've all pledged our willingness to do so, if it should ever come to that. You might ask Lady Julian about it, if you'd like another perspective."

Peregrine found himself rolling the diamond against the engraved band of his Adept ring - the ring that had belonged to Julian's husband, fallen in the service of the Hunting Lodge many years before - and he closed the diamond in his hand, bringing his fist to his lips.

"I understand what you're saying," he whispered. "It's just that - "

"I know," Adam said quietly. "It's something you've never had to think about before. It's something I'll have to consider, if ever Ximena consents to be my wife. Why don't you give yourself a day or two to get used to the idea? It isn't charity, and it isn't plunder. The stone can finance a lot of worthy objectives for a lot of people, but there's no reason why you and Julia shouldn't be among those who benefit. You can still make a handsome donation to the Holy Island Project, if you like.

"But when we get back home and you've had a chance to catch your breath, take Julia out to see the chapel. See if it appeals to you. If the pair of you decide it's what you'd like, I'll be happy to speak with the bishop on your behalf…."