Once they were released into the gardens, Arden grabbed Mac and pulled him along as they tramps about in the grass. He noticed as they passed by some of the flowers grew larger, their colors brighter. Even their number of blooms increased. Mac grabbed at Arden's arm and nodded to the flowering plants. "Are you doing that?"

     "Yeah, shugah." She touched his chin. "Just be glad I'm not barefoot."

     Oh lord...

     Calen moved a few paces ahead, with Huang beside him. She's keeping an awfully close watch on the man. He's also been acting strangely - preoccupied. I could almost like him. Mac shivered.

     Just then a man in a period suit similar to the costume the lady on the Ferris Wheel had worn walked up to the VE and took his hand in his own. Mac listened in as everyone moved closer. "Right...I believe the lady had a word for me?"

     Calen looked bewildered for only a moment before gaining his composure. "Ah yes...I believe the word was Nimbus."

     "And what you're looking for is Gesepe Archinvoldo."

     "Is there a message we should pass on?"

     "Just uhm...what do you say to a man... brotherly freedom I suppose would be a good word to give him. This is rather ridiculous."

     Calen actually gave a half smile. "I must agree with you."

     The man nodded. "Well, enjoy the gardens today. It's very nice out here."

     Next was the House of the Hundred Waters.

     As they enter the rather strangely laid out home, a young man stepped up to greet them. "Welcome to the Hudertwasserhaus." He led them to the right and introduced himself as Claus.

     Mark says, "I heard Vienna was the city of brotherly freedom."

     "There is another phrase here, that means, to the times it's art, and to art it's freedom. You can find that phrase on the side of the Secessesion house."

     The tour of the home was not all together boring, if not a bit discomforting. The structure was warped, of that Mac had no doubt. And he believed the artist had been as well. He was sure his old headache had returned by the time they stepped back up to the front lobby again.

     "There's really not much else I can give you except you must solve it on your own about Gesepe Archivoldo."

     At the second mention of the artist's name, Mac's Navigator spun to life. He wasn't prepared, having just moved closer to an oddly painted vase near the door's front. Arden had his arm in her ever-present grip, and for once, he was glad she was there. She narrowed her eyes at him as his internal VR came to rest on a simple Google answer.

     "Archivoldo was an Italian artist whose art is displayed in the Art History museum." He swallowed and blinked, dismissing the Navigator.

     But nothing like this is on their list. Not the Secession house, nor the history museum.

     "I suggest we find a place to eat lunch," Huang stepped toward Mac and peered into his eyes. "And pool together what we know."

     Across the street they found a nice outdoor Bistro. Mac settled on to a bench and rubbed his eyes. Arden joined him, but sat across from his this time. She pulled a set of Tarot cards from her purse and began shuffling them, her own gaze unfocused.

     "There is a lot more to this than what Lovenstein's riddle says," Huang muttered as she tapped keys on her laptop.

     Calen joined them then, a tray of food set before him, and the VE ate with vigor. Mac's stomach twisted and he fought down a round of nausea. This is all too much for me. And this little gift of abrupt zooming here and zooming there is messing with my equilibrium. I have to find a way to control it.

     Not have it control me. The last thing I need is for it to hack itself into a database it shouldn't and set off alarms.

     He eyed Calen. And I need to speak with him about the DEI. Maybe when things are finished.

     Arden continued to lay out cards as Oz, Johnny, Mark and Kyle joined them, each bearing a plate of food. The greasy smells of onions and roasted meats turned Mac's stomach again and he moved away. Maybe a soda or Coke would help ease it.

     As he stood in line, he rummaged over the past days, looking here and there for anything they might have missed. They were only supposed to find two men, two who would give them the location and password to the Library. Mac couldn't help think that Huang's information was somehow flawed, and she was just beginning to realize this as well.

     First there had been Casada – killed while Johnny and Calen had been trapped in the closet. Mac sorted through all the items taken from there; a tapestry, a key, and pictures…

     Wait…

     He paused as he stepped up to the window.

     The server prompted him to order. Mac smiled and ordered a Coke.

     Casada's database.

     The Adept took the Coke and moved away. He directed his Navigator to pull up the file he'd received from Calen that morning in the Dojo. He returned to his seat. Everyone was eating. Arden was still throwing down cards.

     He closed his eyes and entered VR. The database was there, a little black book on his desktop. The VR Mac picked it up and began thumbing through it. As before, he saw names categorized as buyers and sellers. Antiques.

     After several minutes, he started to set the book back on the desk, but something fell out from the back. A slim piece of paper drifted to the floor. Mac picked it up. On one side were illegible scrawls, a few symbols, and even what looked like a signature.

     Code?

     His Cypher senses said as much. So there was something within the database, encrypted. Mac pulled up a holographic image of his personal database and found a rote for decryption. The styles appeared similar, and there was a slight technocratic twinge to this slight sub-set of symbols.

     His internal display estimated time needed as several hours to run the subsystem to work on the decryption – but it was something he could put in the background. It might make his perception a bit fuzzy at times as the routine pulled more power – but what else was new?

     I've been less than helpful during the whole excursion. Might have been better if I stayed at the hotel, especially if this DEI thing is...

     "Mac?"

     He blinked, abruptly brought out of VR. The sun was brighter than it had been. Derrick was staring at him. "Y-yeah?"

     "You okay? You're looking pale," the Akashic smiled. "Well, paler than usual."

     "I'm fine."

     "Mac," Huang said from down the table. "Anything new?"

     "Not yet…I'm working on it," he gave her a nod.

     Huang arched an eyebrow as if to say 'don't hack into something that'll get us caught'.

     Arden shook her head and made a rude noise. "No matter what I do, the cards say we have to solve the outer puzzle before the inner puzzle. It's all about Canova here."

     Abruptly his Navigator came to life again, unbidden. Mac closed his eyes to fight the wave of nausea. Again a Google came up mentioning the Art Museum. He said as much out loud.

     The group traveled in silence to St. Stephens Cathedral. Mac's quiet drummed along a different track than most, his memories stretching back to his visit to this monument in his dream. He had stood outside on this very sidewalk with the pseudo Mark – and the same sights and sounds struck him, though in the dream, it had been night.

     I wonder what we'll find here.

     Kyle brought everyone's attention to the Cathedral's tiled roof.

     Mark nodded in agreement. "I need to find a place where I can see better...I can make out some things, but I can't make out all of it."

     Derrick spotted a tower nearby, and suggested they climb it to get a better view. The tower charged a small fee and the group trudged up the winding steps one by one. I can't believe we paid money to climb stairs.

     Mac was the last one up, and stood away from the tower's ledge. He'd worked on his fear of heights before, with Maouri – but with this group, he wasn't going to take the chance of being knocked over the side with a slight "Oops" issued from anyone.

     Especially Arden.

     Mark leaned so far out over the ledge, the Adept nearly yelled at him.

     "You see anything?" Derrick asked.

     "Yes…" the Chorister's voice was filled with excitement. "It's a chant - and I know these words..."

     Mark began to sing what Mac could only describe as a Latin chant. He sounds like an Enigma song. The melody brought Mac closer to the ledge, where Arden grabbed his arm and pulled him to her.

     He started to protest, but she grabbed his chin and turned his head so his gaze focused on the roof of the Cathedral. At first he saw nothing more than tiles, until they shifted and blurred. Mac blinked several times, and made out the German word for "Sign".

     "Everybody see that?" Huang said.

     Everyone either nodded or muttered a yes.

     Derrick was the first to move away from the ledge. "Well I guess we've sung Stephen's message to God. I think we decided The House of Bones was the catacombs under the church."

     There wasn't a line into the catacombs. It appeared to Mac that nobody was that eager to descend. From the smells of decay that wafted upward, the Adept couldn't say he blamed them. I'd really rather not go down there myself.

     "Just keep to the roped off areas," the guide said as they descended.

     Arden tightened her grip as they moved around the damp, rubble littered floor. He leaned in to her and caught the smallest, intoxicating scent of Jasmine. "Would you stop cutting off the circulation in my arm?"

     She reached up with her other hand pulled his face close to his. After planting a firm kiss on his lips, the Verbena smiled. He was amazed at how vividly he could see her features in the dim light. "I'm just keeping you safe, shugah. There's no need to be frightened."

     He pulled back, but was unable to disengage her from his arm. "I'm not frightened." He looked away to the backs of their party before them. How is it they were always last? "I'm just…apprehensive." He glanced back at her. "And would you stop kissing me?" Yeah...I'm starting to like it.

     Several tunnels later the group stopped. Mac looked around them and saw the path they'd been on now branched into three different directions.

     "Maybe we should split up?" Derrick offered.

     "No," Oz said. He was nearly invisible in the low light. "I'm thinking we should stick together. With the use of magic here, I'm not sure we're all not going to be needed at some point."

     Arden sighed. "Anyone got any suggestions?"

     "Well," Johnny began. Everyone turned to look at him at once.

     "You have an idea?" Huang asked.

     Johnny nodded, then motioned for everyone to move back. The group formed a circle around him, and Mark stepped forward and hummed. A light came from somewhere, though Mac couldn't pinpoint where, not even with his optics.

     The singer pulled a pair of dice from his jean's pocket and rolled them onto the floor in a flat space. "Quick, number one to twelve."

     Arden called out thirteen. Mac smirked. Figures.

     Oz said six.

     Johnny pointed to the right.

     The path seemed to dip lower, as if they were now descending deeper.

     Another fork and Johnny offered the dice to Kyle. When Kyle tossed them, the two squares of plastic didn't even bounce, but landed with small thuds. They also landed in a two-square pointer to the right.

     After another grueling spance of a few minutes, another fork appeared.

     Johnny rolled his dice. Mac gasped as they stood on end.

     "Someone help me out here," the singer said, his manner telling of his puzzlement.

     Kyle grabbed then and tried a roll. The dice wavered on their corners before falling over. One landed in a crack in the uneven floor.

     With a sigh of frustration, Johnny picked up the dice again. This time they fell out of his hands as he appeared to stagger, abruptly dizzy. Oz stepped forward to put a steadying hand on the singer's arm. Johnny turned and pointed down one of the tunnels before bending down and retrieving his dice.

     Mac glanced at Arden who shrugged

     No fork ended this tunnel. Instead the group found themselves inside a cavern room, facing a wall made of skulls. All of the gruesome bricks had something painted on their tops.

     "Well that's not something you see everyday," muttered Derrick.

     Mark stepped forward carefully, over the uneven floor. Mac stood to one side as Mark began to hum to himself. Arden had released his arm and moved to stand behind the Chorister. Huang and Oz hung back near the farthest wall. Calen remained near the door, his own expression unreadable.

     Derrick crossed his arms over chest. "So…what do we do here?"

     The Chorister stepped forward and touched one of the skulls. "We have to move them."

     "Move them?" Oz said, his voice echoing eerily in the dim room.

     Derrick narrowed his eyes and nodded. "He's right."

     "I can't do this alone," he turned and fixed Mac with a stare. "I need your Correspondence."

     The Adept widened his eyes. I'm needed? Wow…and it would be in a room full of skulls.

     Calen stepped forward as well, but Huang reached out with her hand. "It's not the same."

     Mac frowned and glanced at Calen. What's not the same?

     Mark turned to the VE. "I need forces as well." He looked at everyone. "We're all going to have to help in this one."

     Oz stepped forward. "Do you know how to arrange them?"

     "The song will show me."

     Mark directed Mac to stand just behind him to his left. He had Calen behind Mac. Then Oz stood to the right with Derrick. Arden took up a position directly behind the Chorister.

     I'm not sure I know what I'm doing…

     Mark held his arms out wide and began to sing. Mac noticed the light around them increased. Mark reached out and touched Mac's arm.

     The drain was instant. Mac nearly staggered as he felt a subtle yet strong pull on something nestled within his solar plexus. He felt a warm fire burn deep inside. The sensation traveled along his legs and back and out his arm and fed into Mark.

     The Chorister then reached out with his right hand and touched Oz.

     Slowly, several of the skulls began to vibrate, the movement causing long accumulated dust to shake loose.

     Oh wow…

     Within minutes the room was full of dancing, bouncing skulls as invisible hands dismantled the wall. An ebb and flow of power flowed in and out of Mac. He felt as if he were riding in a boat on a rough sea, rising and falling.

     And within this sensation came another one.

     Exhaustion.

     His knees became weak and shaky and he wanted to sit down. But he dared not loose his physical touch with Mark. His vision blurred as the skulls spun and danced and began to form a new wall. Each macabre brick fixed and nestled one against the other until something new appeared on the wall before them.

     The Adept frowned at the word formed within a pattern of color.

     Conquer.

     "Can everyone see that?" Mark asked.

     Everyone nodded or spoke yes.

     Mark lowered his arms, disengaging contact. Mac nearly fell backward, as did Oz, Derrick, Arden, Johnny and Calen. Kyle was the only one that seemed unaffected. Huang looked like a frightened Rabbit.

     "Look out!"

     Mac ducked just as a skull came careening his way. The air was filled with them again, only this time their paths and intents were directed by another hand, not Marks. The party bent down to get out of the skull's way. Dust and mud flaked off and rained down on upon them. Where Mark's direction had been easy and gentle, this movement was jerky and quick.

     Mac put his hands over his head and waited until the grating noise of bleached bone ceased. He looked up to see the wall had rearranged itself the way they'd found it.

     Hung stood and stepped toward Calen, offering him a hand to help him up. "I thought Lovenstein was one of us."

     "Apparently not," Calen muttered. "I'd say Chorister."

     Oz walked around to each of the party to see if they were okay. "If I'm not mistaken, that took a lot out of all of us."

     Everyone nodded. Arden moved shakily back to Mac, and this time he reached out to steady her. He welcomed her hand on his arm. The Adept's head ached. He was unsteady on his feet, and nauseous.

     "Let's get out of here," Derrick said.

     The trip back out seemed to last for hours. Mac and Arden took up the rear. The Verbena recovered quickly, and she explained to Mac in hushed tones that she was best in the sphere of Life. He stumbled badly at one point, his legs wobbly and she pulled him to her.

     Johnny leaned on Mark in the same fashion, though Mark stumbled now and then.

     Once outside, the group moved away from the entrance to a group of trees. Mac braced his back against the tree and closed his eyes. He could sleep so easily at that moment. In the past when he'd used his magic, he could recover rather quickly.

     But I've never felt this utterly drained before. And it's not just a surface fatigue. This goes all the say down to my soul.

     "You okay?"

     He opened his eyes to see Arden standing in front of him. Her own color wasn't as healthy as it had been. "Yeah…I'm just so wiped."

     "Everyone is," she nodded to her left.

     Mac looked at the rest of the cabal. Oz looked the worse to him, the man's ebony skin looked as if it were covered in a fine coat of ash. Johnny, who stood beside the Hermetic, was as pale as snow in the Vienna evening sun. Calen, whose color seemed to linger near the whiter end of the spectrum, looked positively green. As did Derrick.

     Kyle looked tired, but appeared to have suffered no physical effects.

     "It drained our Quintessence," Arden said softly.

     He looked back at her. "It did? Is that why I'm so…" he shrugged. "Well, weak?"

     She nodded. "Some of us will be worse than others. I'm worried about Mark."

     Mac looked at the Chorister, who stood near a tree to their left. He was in deep conversation with a pale Huang. The Adept noticed as Mark gestured, his hands shook and he often reached out to steady himself against the tree. "He looks about to collapse."

     "We need to rejuvenate," she looked around. "But I don't know where a Node is near here. We need to find some Tas."

     Huang moved toward them then, and motioned for everyone to gather close. "I'm sure you're all feeling the effects of that last…" she didn't finish, letting her meaning be interpreted by each Mage. "We need to do something about our energy levels, or we're not going to be able to continue. I have an idea for a quick fix. I suggest we all go over to that coffee house across the street. I can make a call."

     Mac pursed his lips. Make a call. A Technocratic fix, to be sure.

     The group slowly made their way across the street and went inside. There they spread out along three tables. Derrick stretched out in one booth, his hand on his head. Oz slid in the opposite seat and Johnny slid in beside him.

     Kyle sat in the seat opposite Mac and Arden joined him, only this time she didn't act the tourist. In fact, she seemed almost subdued. Mac turned and studied the witch's profile. I like this side of Arden. It's not as…showy.

     Huang moved away from the group as she dialed a number on her cell phone. She then spoke in hushed tones as the others ordered coffees. Mac ordered a Mocha and shared a small muffin with Arden. But the taste of the muffin turned to Styrofoam in his mouth, and the coffee smelled like a used oil can. What is wrong with me? It's like nothing's working right.

     We all look pretty bad. And we'd all be in pretty worse shape if the Technocracy appeared at this moment.

     Huang stepped outside, and then returned with a small bag clasped in one hand.

     Oz was the first to speak. "I think I know what you've got there."

     Huang gave the Hermetic a tight smile.

     "But the real thing is, how'd you get them to deliver it here to us?"

     She shrugged. "I lied."

     Mac looked at Arden. "Oh. Right."

     Huang stood at each table and tossed everyone what looked like a candy bar. Mac caught his with his left and looked at the wrapper. It said, Erg. "This is a joke, right?"

     Huang nodded. "Yes. Eat it."

     Johnny took a bite just as Calen said; "They taste worse than they sound."

     Mac watched Johnny's face twist into the most gruesome mask the Adept had ever seen. Oz's expression wasn't much better. The only one that appeared unaffected by the taste was Calen, who produced his own bar from a pocket of his tour guide costume.

     Even Huang made a face.

     Arden seemed to be the only other hold out other than Mac, at taking a bite. She scanned the ingredients. "Are there like NONO bytes and stuff in there?"

     Huang choked down a bite. She sipped her coffee and shook her head. "No nannite. Just condensed energy. Eat it."

     Arden crinkled her nose. Oz leaned over from the table next to them. "It's basically a quick shot of tas, only they don't call it that."

     Mac nodded. Riiiight. Didn't matter. He really didn't want it.

     He looked over at Huang, who had fixed her gaze on him. "Eat it or I'll have Calen force it down."

     Mac quickly unwrapped the bar.

     "It's really not all that bad," Calen remarked around a mouthful. "Peanut butter is the best. I usually carry a few with me."

     Oz said, "I got oatmeal raisin. Give me one of those peanut butter ones."

     Mac took a bite and felt his stomach wretch.

     "What flavor did you get?" Arden asked.

     Mac had to admit the bar did make him feel better. But it was more like a sugar high – one that they could easily crash from.

     Huang looked at Mac. "Look up Boromeo."

     He did, and his navigator pulled him into a text file telling about how St. Charles Boromeo aided Vienna throughout the plague. He did so much to help end things that an emperor built a church to honor Boromeo's championing. "That story is painted around the columns just outside the church."

     "Good enough," Derrick said. "Let's go."

     The drive in the van to the church took a little longer than expected, given Vienna's traffic, though Mac had to admire Calen's ability to maneuver some of the most dangerous pedestrians he'd ever seen. These people have no fear of quickly moving vehicles.

     Once at the church, the group gathered in front of the columns and stared. Mac rubbed his jaw. What is supposed to happen now?

     "We need to work the pictures out." Kyle looked over at Huang. "I need some help with Mind to work the Time sphere."

     Hung looked at her palm and called out names. "Mark, Arden, Derrick and Mac. Funnel your…Mind…abilities to Kyle."

     Funnel? Mac looked at Arden who shrugged. "Give up more energy? Doesn't she realized we're all like, waxed?"

     Arden remained silent.

     Taking his cue from Mark's last need of his magic, Mac put a hand on Kyle's left shoulder and opened up his mind focus, the one he'd used just that morning. He found it easier to manipulate, as if Arden's little demonstrations had greased the wheels.

     The pictures moved for all of them tuned into Kyle's time sphere. The story was retold of St. Charles' brave acts. Then at the end of each column's chapter a word appeared at the column's top. On the left was the German word for "Shall".

     On the second column, after the hero's death, they see the word "This".

     Mac took his hand away. What the hell did that mean?

     From behind him Oz laughed quietly and muttered, "This is the most fucked up shit I've ever seen."

     The last stop was purported to be that of the statue of the Maria Theresa, located on the Strasa between the two museums mentioned during early romps. Mac and the others trudged out of the van and made their way to the statue.

     They're all starting to blend together. One looks like the other.

     Kyle pointed to the statue's outstretched hand. "I can see it in time…someone put something inside the statue's hand."

     Huang pulled out a camera and motioned for everyone to gather around. "This is the last stop on our tour - let's all get a picture!"

     "I'll climb the statue," Kyle started up the monument. The passing tourists seemed unphazed by the dark Hollow One's actions. Probably see this all the time.

     They all gather around and Mac is nearest the statue's foot where Kyle began his ascent. The Hollow One whispers down. "I can see a YE up here. I can also see something being put into the hand. But it's embedded inside."

     Mac pursed his lips as he looked up at the Hollow One.

     Arden put her hand on his arm. "You can get it out."

     Yeah… Mac waved at Huang, then began his own perilous climb up the statue to join Kyle.

     Huang punched up the action. "Yes, you go up there! That's good!" She looked at them through the camera.

     Mac glances down to see Haung watching him. Calen stood beside her, his hands thrust into his pockets. Derrick moved away, his gaze scanning the crowds.

     What am I looking for? The Adept shifted his optics and was able to penetrate the metal. Most of the statue was hollow, save one area – the palm of her hand. There he could see the visible outline of something small.

     But it was buried in the center.

     Using the same trick he used on the bullet lodged in Calen's kidney, Mac held his fist out and 'found' the object. With a bit of correspondence, he shifted the location of the object from the statue to his hand. He felt it materialize there. Cold and hard.

     But just as he felt the smooth surface of something solid form in his palm, a second sense caused his stomach to churn. A faint buzzing started inside his head and he feared the worst.

     Paradox.

     Damnit. He gripped the key hard as a wave of nausea caused his vision to blur. I'm too tired again. I'm not thinking. I just did magic in front of Sleepers.

     "Mac?"

     He shifted his weight and moved his clutched hand to where he could open it palm up. There in the center was a key. Kyle immediately reached out to touch it, then pulled back and yelped.

     "What happened?" Mark called from below.

     "I tried to read it and it shocked me." The Hollow One moved quickly back down the statue.

     Mac followed a bit slower. Arden was there to steady him as he took the last step. She leaned in to his ear. "It was only a small bit – don't let it worry you."

     He frowned at her, again taken that at times; she was absolutely pleasant to be around.

     After leaving the statue, Calen suggested they look into the museums, since they were mentioned twice. Everyone agreed. Mac tried to give the key to Huang, but she shook her head and told him to look after it. She looked to be a little afraid of it.

     Calen began motioning for them to follow. "We're walking, we're walking…" He led them into the Art History Museum to the left of the statue. The first statue they come up to is Theses and the Minotaur, by Canova. Huang pulled out her digital camera and snapped a photo. She made a face.

     "Mac, when you looked at those paintings in Casada's office…"

     Mac wiggled his left pinky in his left ear. There was something wearing on his audio. "Yeah..."

     "Do you remember what spectrum you looked at the paintings with?"

     "Uh-humm. Black light."

     "Can you look at this like that?"

     Mac nodded and did just that. "I'm seeing a sentence. It says, 'the first number is seven.'"

     "That's it?" Derrick asked.

     Mac nodded and shrugged as he looked at Huang.

     Johnny spoke up. "There's something here…"

     "Yes," Mark agreed. "A thread…" he pointed in a different direction. "Follow moi."

     This invisible thread led them to a room displaying what Mac could only describe as expensive chach-kas. Pillboxes, clocks, etc. There was an exhibit by Benvenuto Chalini. The most prominent piece displayed was a saltcellar.

     He narrowed his eyes and read the card aloud. "This salt cellar features the figures off Poseidon and Venus reclining on either side" His optics whirled and another number became visible in the black light spectrum. "Here we go. 'Third number is nine."

     Johnny and Mark lead them to the Broidel wing to a massive painting the size of a wall. The painting was called "The Battle between Carnival and Lent". On the top part of the painting Mac saw another sentence. "'The forth number is forty'." He looked down to the bottom. "'Fifth number is two'."

     Huang jotted down the numbers. "Lets look for Archinboldo."

     They find a display of Archinboldo's seasons paintings.

     Mac shook his head. "Looks like a two year old got a hold of some fruit."

     "Mac," Oz shook his head. "Just look for more numbers."

     "Right," he narrowed his eyes. "Okay. Here they are. There's one on each painting.

     Six is 4

     Seventh is 8

     Eight number is 5

     Nineth number is 3

     Mac straightened up and leaned his head to the right. His neck cracked and he winced.

     Oz put his hand to his chin and rubbed. "Hmmm…any threads that we had in here are done" he looked at Huang. "We had one more clue that said 'seek ye the last judgment'. Mac, run a search on artwork on Last Judgment in Vienna."

     Mac nodded. Yep, that's me. Information boy. His search brought up a DO YOU MEAN...?

     Crap. I spelled it wrong. He regoogled.

     The image of a triptick/altar painting called The Last Judgment, by Horonimous Basch, pulls up. It's located in the Fine Arts Museum. Which is very close by.

     On the way to the Fine Arts Museum, they pass the Secessionist House. There, on the side of the building, Mac saw the word "under" scrawled in black light. Nothing else showed up, so they entered the museum.

     Once at the triptick/altar, the center panel flagged with black light marker. "The Second number is twelve'."

     The group left the museum and piled back into the bus.

     Derrick sat in the front in the seat beside Huang. "I think we should head back to the Sacher and regroup."

     She gave him a tired nod. "I agree. There, we can pool what we have and come up with hopefully, an answer."

     "So is this supposed to give us the location and password?" Oz sighed.

     "That is my hope."

     "Mine too," Derrick looked back at those in the van. "Mine too."

     The group gathered in the girl's suite again and tossed around the information they had. Mac sat on the floor in front of the table, his back against the couch. Arden settled in behind him and straddled him. He started to move away, but she pulled him back and began a deep massage of his shoulders.

     Just as she had that morning. She even began a soft lullaby, but this time, there was no intent of mind control.

     Huang looked at the numbers Derrick had drawn out on a sheet of stationery. "Obviously this is a sequence of numbers. We have a key. And we have these words."

     Arden paused. "I think we still need to head to St. Michelle's. It's what that Templar said to myself and Mark."

     "I'm not so sure about that," Oz said. "Remember, the information we got said that two people would have the answers. One would give the location; the other would give the password. Both Casada and Lovenstein spoke of the rose window of St. Michelle. What that tells me is that the two of them set up a code ahead of time, that if they were ever caught or their lives threatened, they'd give the same answer."

     "And you think St. Michelle is that answer?" Mark said.

     Oz nodded. "I do. I think we should dis-count that information for right now."

     Mac sighed as Arden started massaging him again. Calen came to sit beside Huang as she wrote down each of the words they'd found.

     "I think it probably says something," Huang began.

     "Under this sign shall ye conquer," Calen said. He looked up at the group now huddled about the coffee table. "Constantine."

     Mac googled Constantine and the phrase. Nothing flagged. As an afterthought, Mac pulled the key from his pocket and set it on the table.

     Derrick picked it up and held it to his face. "You know, when we have a key and a series of numbers, it usually means safe deposit box."

     Huang gave a slow smile. "Yes, that makes sense. Then let us look at the local banks and see about opening a box."

     Calen took hold of Huang's laptop and began a search. Mac was just as happy to not be a part of the google patrol this time.

     "Here's one," Calen pursed his lips. "Swiss bank, here in Vienna. Ah, and not too far away. The oldest one of its kind."

     Huang said, "Maybe we should check this out."

     "It's after five," Mac opened his eyes and looked at Huang. "Would the bank be open?"

     "Does it matter to you?" Calen asked in an even tone.

     "No." He had a point.

     Huang reached for the phone and dialed the concierge. After a brief exchange in German, she hung up. "Most of the local branches of the First Bank of Vienna close at five, but the Swiss branches stay open twenty four hours."

     "Well isn't that convenient," Arden commented.

     Huang continued. "Most of the Swiss banks have a night staff because their main service is safe deposit boxes." She smiled. "And there is only one here in the city itself."

     Oz stood. "Then I guess we need to get over to this bank and get this done."

     The group piled back into the van, except for Oz, who mentioned running sweeps on the hotel. He worried that the intrusion clones might have doubled back after they left that morning. Calen jumped into the driver's seat again, his clothing returned his usual black tee shirt and fatigues. Mac yawned as he piled in last and shut the door.

     As Calen pulled the van into the light-trafficked streets, a thought occurred to Mac. "Hey, are they going to let all of us pile into the bank to check out one box?"

     Calen looked at Mac in the rear view mirror. "Probably not."

     Huang sighed. "At this point, I'm thinking there is safety in numbers. But we don't want to draw too much attention by having eight of us tramp into a bank and demand to see what's in a safe deposit box."

     Arden cleared her throat. "Well, since I own several Swiss accounts, including a box at the bank we're heading too, let me express concerns over security." She had everyone's full attention. "Derrick here is a wanted felon. So is Johnny. I know how to handle myself in these situations."

     Huang nodded. "Seems agreeable. But someone should go with you."

     Mac looked around at the others, who were oddly enough, looking at him. "What?"

     "You're being her husband for the day," Mark said with a genuine smile. "I think you should go."

     "Me?" He felt Arden's hand on his cheek.

     "Yeah, shugah. You can be my boy-toy husband."

     Oh Christ.

     "Actually," Calen began. All eyes turned to him. "It would be better for Mac to accompany the Verbena. I could link with his optic systems using my communicator and feed Huang the images he sees to her laptop. Very much like a see you, see me set up."

     The Adept had nothing to say to that. It was a flawless idea.

     I'm really beginning to appreciate the little creep. And I hate that.

     Calen pulled the van into a parking space. He stepped out just as Mac and Arden did. She hooked her arm in his and followed Calen to the bank's front. The VE paused just outside.

     He leaned toward them. "I only see on guard, so I'm going to set myself up around the back. " Calen fixed Mac with an intense stare. "You signal me when you're up and running."

     Mac nodded.

     The guard opened the door for the two of them, and then an inner guard buzzed them through a thicker, inner door.

     A man in a smart blue suite stepped up to them. "Key please?"

     Mac pulled the key from his jacket and handed it to the man. He looked at it and handed it back.

     "Thank you. Please, follow me."

     This suit led them into a larger room, with hard wood floors, plush, Victorian couches and settees with large, live flower arrangements on them. Another man, balding, in an expensive Armani suit, approached and reached out to take Arden's outstretched hand. "Welcome, welcome," he bent down and kissed her hand.

     Mac simply opted for a handshake.

     He heard Arden in his mind. "He's a Sleeper."

     Damn I wish she'd stop doing that.

     The man stepped back. "Good evening. How may I help you?"

     Mac took his cue from the subtle squeeze from Arden on his arm. "We're…we're here to look at our safe d-deposit box."

     "Very well," he smiled and pulled a small pad from his breast pocket. "Please write the number down."

     Mac disentangled himself from Arden and took the pad. The man offered him a pen and Mac took it, though he had the pen in the wrong hand. He switched it to his left and jotted down the number saved to his Navigator.

     Arden crossed her arms over her chest. "Refreshments? I mean, the last time I was here, I was given wine before I even came into this room."

     Mac turned and glared at the witch as he handed the pad and pen back to the suit. "What are you doing" he called out using his Mind.

     "Looking natural. You're too nervous."

     "I am not nervous."

     "Yes you are."

     But the suit didn't miss a beat and nodded to Arden. "I do apologize, Madam. We are a bit understaffed this evening. I will have refreshments brought to your viewing room. What would you like?"

     Arden smiled. "Dom Perignon, of course."

     The man nodded calmly. "Consider it done."

     Mac looked from Arden to the man. Oh boy…

     He then led them down a short hall to what Mac could only describe as a living room. Three couches created a U in the center, surrounding a large oak coffee table. There were no windows, but there were curtains. He stood in the center of the room to watch as the suit strode to one of these windows and opened it.

     The door opened again behind them and several people brought in trays of food. A short, blond female brought in a bottle of Dom Perignon and offered the label to Arden. She smiled and nodded as the woman set the bottle in an iced carafe.

     There in the wall was a recessed area, about the size of a large desktop monitor. As Arden went to look at the food, Mac pulled inside his Navigator and turned on his IR. He saw an icon for Calen's communicator and signaled that he was ready. After only a second, Mac experienced the slight dizzying effect of seeing two things at once.

     This is almost like a correspondence trick.

     He watched the man slide what looked like a master key into a hole at the lower left shelf of the recessed panel. It was then Mac noticed a conveyor belt and rubber stopper. The suit pulled the piece of paper out that Mac had written on and punched in the numbers. He handed it back to the Adept.

     After a few minutes the belt started up after that, a silver box slid into view.

     It's not a very big box.

     The man removed it from the conveyor and walked it to the coffee table. He set it down carefully then straightened. "Once you are finished, please replace the box into the recessed area. Good night," he nodded and left the room.

     Arden nearly dropped her food as she jumped over the couch and plopped down in front of the box. Her eyes widened as she stared intently at it.

     "What are you doing?" Mac strode from the conveyor to the couch and sat beside her.

     "I'm looking at it."

     Oh. "Well, is it a box?"

     "Yeah. Just a plain old box." She gestured at him. "Open it."

     Mac slid the key into the hole and turned once. The lid popped open.

     Inside, there was a yellow, clasped envelope and a bundle of wrapped butcher paper. Arden removed the butcher paper and opened it. Mac pursed his lips as she pulled out what appeared to be a chemist's slide of something. She then held up two pieces of parchment; an I and an X. She set those aside and retrieved a silver coin.

     On one side there was a central lightening bolt. On the flip side was a rose intertwined with a dagger.

     "That thing's platinum." Mac grabbed up the envelope and opened it. Inside was a letter.

     "Suavium, If you are reading this, then I am dead. Then you have received word to retrieve these treasures. Guard them well. Fulmen."

     Mac looked around the box. That was it? He looked back at the letter. He heard Calen's voice in his ear, as he'd heard Oz's once before in Casada's house. "Mac, Suavium was Casada's password. And Fulmen means lightening bolt."

     Mac pursed his lips, and relayed the message to Arden.

     "Well, that doesn't help anything." Arden started looking about the box. "Is that it?"

     Mac reached over and took the piece of parchment. The edges on both sides appeared to be torn. "This is it."

     The witch huffed. "No location, no password." She looked at Mac. "We're screwed."

Back to Journal