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“Ah, Marianne. I was hoping you’d
come.” A gray-haired man who looked to be in his mid-seventies sat
behind a desk at the end of the room. He was very thin and looked almost
emaciated, but his voice was still strong.
“Hoping?” Marianne threw a glance
at the stern-faced woman now standing beside him. “She knew who I
was, the moment she opened the door.”
“Ah, but Phelan’s counting a lot
on your, ah, shall we say, persuasive circumstances to bring you here.
Come in, take a seat. Plenty of chairs to choose from.” She knew he
meant to make her feel at ease, but his humorous tone failed to do so.
If anything, it caused her to be more alert. She knew what he was doing
-- first trick her into complacency, then pounce. She wasn’t going to
give anyone that satisfaction.
Marianne chose a straight-backed
chair some distance away from his desk. She felt better with some space
between them. She sat on the edge of the seat and placed the duffel bag
beside her on the floor.
“I notice you came prepared.” The
Collector gazed in the general direction of her bag.
“It’s a just-in-case.” Marianne
bit her lip. “If what your letter says is true, I don’t want to take the
extra time going back home to get my things.”
“I see that you’ve given this a
lot of thought. How’s Lex holding up? The medications doing him good?
What about Bryan?”
Alarm prickled her brow. “How
much do you know about us? How did you come to know about us, anyway?”
“Let’s just say I have my ways.”
His enigmatic smile didn’t reassure her.
“Who are you?”
“I’m a simple archaeologist, and
Phelan here is my assistant.” He leaned forward. “Don’t worry, I mean
you no harm. I just want to help.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Why
don’t we cut the chitchat and go straight to the topic on everyone’s
mind?”
“Very well. My health has been
deteriorating all these years --” He gestured toward his legs. “-- and
the doctors have advised me against going on long journeys. I also find
it hard to stay upright for long periods at a time. However, I’m still
an archaeologist at heart. There’s an artifact I want very badly, and I
need you to get it for me.”
“And I thought you just wanted to
help.”
“It goes both ways.” A brief
smile appeared on his lips. “The artifact has healing properties.”
Oh God, could it be true?
“Don’t bullshit me.” She hated that her hands were shaking. “Why me? I’m
sure there are lots of people in the city who need this kind of help,
who would jump at the chance to get the artifact for you. So, why me?
Why Lex?”
“Mrs. Potts told me about your
need.”
The name brought to mind an
elderly woman with a full head of white hair and kind eyes behind
gold-rimmed spectacles. “My neighbor?”
The Collector nodded. “She’s an
old friend. Once she knew I was looking for someone to search for the
statuette, she asked me to consider you.”
“Just like that? No
qualifications needed?”
“I would think that your
desperation would be the best qualification to ensure that the statuette
would be retrieved,” the old man said softly, eyes intent on her.
Marianne nodded abruptly.
Desperation was indeed a very good motivator. “About that statuette.
That’s the artifact with the healing powers?”
“Yes.” He paused for a moment.
“Little is known about Manggawana, who legends say is the secret
daughter of the goddess Manggagaway by a mortal. Manggagaway is the
goddess of sickness and a helper of the god of the dead, but in defiance
of her mother’s occupation, Manggawana discovered an aptitude for curing
illnesses and thus found her niche as the demigoddess of healing. It is
her statuette that you are to obtain.”
“A legend?” Marianne scoffed,
feeling disappointment sinking like a stone to her stomach. “You’re
telling me some old story for me to go on a wild goose chase? How do I
know I’m not wasting my time?”
“Why do you still find it hard to
believe, Marianne?” The Collector shook his head, a momentary sadness
clouding his eyes. “Is hope so hard to contain in your heart that you
keep denying it? Isn’t the hope of a cure better than no hope at all?”
The gentle, fatherly expression on his face disarmed her. “You’re afraid
to be disappointed, aren’t you?”
Her face crumpled. The thin
thread of sheer bravado that had been holding her together snapped. She
buried her head in her hands and sobbed. The weight of denying her fears
and worries and putting on a valiant front for years bore down on her.
“I’m afraid. I don’t know what I’ll do if…if…”
“Where’s the harm in believing
and seeing for yourself the truth, or falsity, of my words? If there
really is a healing statue, then your wildest dreams have come
true. If there isn’t, then you’d just be back where you are now.” He
gave a short laugh. “It would seem your position is certainly not worse
off either way.”
“How do I know you’re not --” She
wiped errant tears away with the back of her hand. “-- leading me on?”
She should feel embarrassed at shedding tears in front of strangers, but
it felt good to cry out the burden she’d been carrying all this time.
“That this isn’t a trick, that there’s no hidden agenda --”
“You don’t. I guess you’ll just
have to trust me.”
A wild, incredulous laugh escaped
from her lips.
“Damn it, girl, the fact that I’m
paying for your time and expenses plus the plane fare ought to tell you
I’m serious.”
“Right.” She took a deep breath.
“So. Where am I going to find this statue?”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? My
sources tell me that the statuette was last sighted somewhere in the
Philippines. That’s a Filipino legend I told you. You’d have to go
halfway around the world to get it.”
Her mouth dropped open. “That
far? I’d thought the farthest was hopping over the border to Mexico or
Canada.”
The Collector shrugged. “These
are just little obstacles. The biggest obstacle is the one in your
heart.”
“All right, fine!” She stood and
strode the short distance to the desk. “Give me that damn plane ticket
and a map.” She held out her hand.
The Collector reached into a
drawer and handed her a thick envelope. “Inside, you’ll also find a
description of the statuette and the exact location where it can be
found. After the goddess grants your wish, please bring it to me and you
will have fulfilled your part of the bargain.”
Marianne glanced at his shrunken
chest.
The Collector followed her gaze
and chuckled. “No, I have other uses for the statuette.”
“What’s to stop me from keeping
the statue? It’ll come in very handy, if it can really heal.”
“Your basic moral goodness, and
the fact that the statuette can grant the holder’s wish only once.”
“I knew good things never last.”
Marianne checked the contents of the envelope. “Two tickets?” She
frowned at the Collector.
“The Philippines is presently
rife with political instability and frequent kidnappings. I’ve taken the
liberty of making arrangements for someone to accompany you so as to
ensure your safety.”
“You were that certain of my
decision, weren’t you?” A trace of bitterness crept out. How many other
people knew of the desperateness, the hopelessness of her situation?
“No, just hoping you’d find the
courage to make the journey.”
“I don’t need anyone to accompany
me. Anyway, I’ll be less conspicuous if I go alone.”
“Don’t be foolish, Marianne.
You’ll be in a foreign land. You know nothing of the terrain, the
people, their culture, and their language. Of course you need someone to
go with you.”
“No.”
“I won’t be sending you by
yourself to such a dangerous place. That’s my deal, Marianne. Take it or
leave it.”
“Is she -- this person you’re
arranging to accompany me -- a native of the Philippines?”
“It’s a he, and…” The Collector
hesitated. “No, but he’s certainly a bit more familiar with the country
than you, and --”
“So what’s the point of getting
him to go with me when we’re both babes in the woods?”
“As I was saying before I was
rudely interrupted --” The Collector sent her a pointed look. “-- he has
abilities beyond what you can imagine, and he can protect you, when and
if the time comes.”
“Really.” She injected all the
skepticism she could into her voice.
“Really.” An affirmation. “So
what’ll it be?”
Marianne came to an abrupt
decision. She was on the Collector’s turf, he had engineered the whole
thing and paid for all expenses, and he was basically hiring her to be
his legs, as he couldn’t travel. If he was being honest with her and the
statue did possess healing powers, then she’d have the bonus of healing
her brother. If not, the extra money would go toward helping with the
medical bills. “It would seem I have no choice.” She sighed, then
continued with a mild protest to the matter of a companion, as if that
would cause the Collector to change his mind. “Who knows if this person
can be trusted?”
“I’d trust him with my life.”
Marianne didn’t like the secret
smile that played around the Collector’s lips. “You, maybe, but since I
don’t know him, I’ll reserve judgment.”
“You do that.”
“When is he coming? I don’t like
to leave Lex and Bryan for so long --”
A double knock sounded behind
her. The door opened and a masculine voice spoke. “Hey, folks, sorry for
being late --”
The rest of his words were
drowned out by the roaring in her ears.
She knew that voice.
Her heart beating in irregular
rhythm, Marianne turned to face the man who’d haunted her nights and
invaded her dreams.
Nicholas. He was still the same
Nicholas she’d known many years ago, the Nicholas who’d seduced her and
convinced her to lay her heart at his feet, the Nicholas who’d left her
without a word of good-bye.
Anger boiled up from inside, deep
and dark, terrible and true. A spark of past passion and a trace of past
love whispered from the corners of her mind. Legs entwined, bodies
reaching in the heat of the moment, hands cradling with tenderness. She
pushed the memories aside, hating the thought that she might love him
still, that she might still desire him after…after everything that he’d
done. She preferred to concentrate on the pain and the betrayal.
Because they were safe walls to
hide behind.
She whirled around to face the
Collector, aghast to discover she was trembling. “Why is he here?” she
demanded, each syllable staccato. A horrible thought entered her head,
accompanied by a sinking feeling in her stomach. She shook her head.
“No, no, don’t tell me, no, please…” Her voice dropped to a whisper at
the last word.
“He’s your bodyguard.” The
Collector’s eyes were oddly sympathetic, but determined.
“I don’t --” Her teeth gnashed
with the ambivalence of her emotions, a combination of fury and helpless
longing. “-- need a bodyguard.”
“Remember our deal, Marianne.”
“Then I’m not going.” She crossed
her arms over her chest and lifted her chin stubbornly.
“Not even for the sake of
your son?” |
