'Whatever you think is best.' Albray kissed me, and reluctantly dragged himself away to resume his course to my tent. 'I shall find some clothes then, shall I?'

'No, don't.' I grinned, wanting desperately to accompany him back to my tent. But I owed it to Ashlee, Lillet and all my foremothers to see those keys delivered beyond the reach of treasure seekers like Tusca, Conally and Andre.

In Molier's mobile office, Andre had Miss Resi in the computer hot seat and was shooting orders at her in French.

'I do know what I'm doing,' she barked back at him, whilst typing at triple the speed of a normal human being. 'We should have a visual.' She hit a final key and a window opened on the desktop screen of the overhead monitor-this featured a bouncing view of the desert, as seen from the right-hand saddlebag of Akbar's horse.

'What about the transmitter?' Andre wanted confirmation that they could track the signal hidden on our target.

Tusca resumed typing nineteen to the dozen, whereupon a second window opened on the overhead monitor. This window contained a radar screen that was reading one solitary flashing dot, slightly left of centre. 'The target is about half a kilometre from us on a westerly bearing.'

'Merci, Mademoiselle Resi.' Andre pulled the walkie-talkie from his belt and informed Conally and Marty to head west in the chopper. Andre pulled the walkie-talkie from his belt and informed Conally and Marty to head west in the chopper.

'Even if you do discover where they take the keys, how do you plan on reclaiming them?' I attempted to reason with my colleagues. 'Only Allah knows how many of these warriors there are.'

I had never seen Andre truly annoyed at me before, but the dark look on his face told me I was not in favour at present. 'Well, if you had not given an a.s.sa.s.sin the keys to our find, I would not have to go looking for them.'

I placed my hands on my hips. After the day I had endured I was not going to become the scapegoat for the failure of this project. 'If I were you, I wouldn't a.s.sume to place blame for this affair on anyone, anyone, until I could explain my own whereabouts at the time. You have nearly cost me my life several times-' until I could explain my own whereabouts at the time. You have nearly cost me my life several times-'

Andre's eyes fell upon the bloodied holes in my shirt. 'Oh, my G.o.ddess, Mia. You've been shot!' Of course the Frenchman did not hesitate to seize the opportunity to rip open my shirt, and gasped when he found nothing but smeared bloodstains on my bare belly. 'What the...?'

I was at a complete loss for words. The thought of recounting my tale was completely exhausting to me.

'What happened to us...to Molier?' Tusca humbly appealed. She was as beat up as Andre, and like him could not remember how she had sustained her injuries. I think she sensed that she'd done something horrible that, like a nightmare she couldn't remember, had left her with a deep sense of foreboding.

'You do not want to know.' I began to shake as the recollection of the day's events sent shockwaves pulsing through my being. 'Molier is dead...but as he was ultimately responsible for the murder of Akbar's two young companions-'

Tusca gasped. Maybe she had a recollection of something.

'-I'd say that Christian Molier's demise was karma, and long overdue. I gave the keys to Akbar because the treasures of the G.o.ds are dangerous in the hands of ordinary men. Trust me when I warn you that no good will come from pursuing those keys at this time.'

'Andre, are you there?' Conally's voice sounded from the walkie-talkie and startled us all.

Andre fetched up the communicator. 'Oui.' 'Oui.'

'There is a sirocco headed our way. Our Arab friends are heading straight into a towering cloud of dirt! We cannot take the chopper in there...we'll have to turn back. Are you tracking them?'

'Affirmative,' replied Andre.

'We'll resume this pursuit when the storm pa.s.ses,' Conally resolved. 'Over and out.'

'That's one big wall of sand, all right,' Tusca commented, viewing the approaching storm via Akbar's horse-cam. 'You would have to be mad not to seek shelter.'

'Perhaps tracking the band will prove rather fortuitous for them?' Andre was imagining a rosy outcome, where the Arab gratefully gave the keys back to him in grat.i.tude for saving his life.

Static began to creep into the image that Akbar's horse-cam was transmitting as his party penetrated the storm. The signal that marked our target on the monitor also began to weaken.

'Is the storm causing the interference?' I wondered, suppressing my glee as the disruptions intensified.

Tusca was perplexed. She continued typing in a losing battle to restore the transmissions. 'The storm shouldn't affect the signals to this extent.' Tusca, out of ideas, sat back in her seat. The camera window on the monitor turned to total static and the transmitter signal faded completely.

'I guess we need an invitation, after all.' I suppressed my relief at the systems failure.

Andre was staring at the monitor, absolutely devastated. 'Quel cauchemar,' 'Quel cauchemar,' he uttered, slouching as he conceded defeat. he uttered, slouching as he conceded defeat.

'A nightmare, indeed,' I echoed. 'Fortunately for you, you don't remember any of it. And from this moment on, I plan to have complete memory failure also.'

Andre and Tusca looked at each other, both carrying a heaviness and guilt that they could not explain. Tusca nodded, thinking it was the best solution for all involved. With a sigh, Andre looked at me and smiled. 'The project was sabotaged by a local religious sect and we barely escaped with our lives. Fin d'histoire.' Fin d'histoire.'

'Merci beaucoup.' I backed up, wanting to make myself absent before Conally returned. I was more than happy to leave Andre and Tusca to do the explaining. 'I'm packing for home.' I backed up, wanting to make myself absent before Conally returned. I was more than happy to leave Andre and Tusca to do the explaining. 'I'm packing for home.'

EPILOGUE.

FROM THE POST-SINAI JOURNAL OF MRS ASHLEE DEVERE.

En route back to England I collected Nanny Beat, so that she might fulfil her desire to be nurse to my forthcoming child. It would have been lovely to linger with the gypsies, but with my father's health hanging in the balance I felt the greatest urgency to return home as soon as was humanly possible. I promised to visit the Continent as soon as motherhood and family life allowed, and Devere and I a.s.sured Cingar that the Choron clan would always be welcome at the Granville estate in Suffolk.

We made it home by the celebration of Michaelmas. The autumn chill was making itself felt at the Granville manor in Suffolk, where my father had retired to wait out the cold winter months as he did every year now that he was getting older. Since my mother's death he had lost much of his enthusiasm for taking up invitations to visit with other members of the country gentry.

I do not believe that I have ever known my father to be so happy to see me, nor so proud of me for that matter. For all the grand and amazing tales of travel I had to tell him, it was my conception of a child that impressed him most, as he'd felt sure he'd never see the day. Needless to say, my dear Mr Devere was now very much in my father's good books.

'My spirits insist that I am carrying a male child, papa,' I brazenly informed him, and for the first time in his life my father was prepared to wholeheartedly believe one of my predictions.

The news of his forthcoming grandson improved my father's health considerably. He had no intention of leaving this earth before he'd had the opportunity to make an impression on his heir.

Before I set foot on English soil I had packed away my green velvet adventuring guise and weapons; my yen for travel had been satisfied for the present and I felt it was time to a.s.sume the role of Mrs Devere, wife, dutiful daughter and soon-to-be mother. The green velvet attire would no longer stretch around my expanding form in any case, but in the years ahead I would have need of this clothing again.

I also packed away Lord Hamilton's journal. I had found the time to finish reading it on my way home. In the empty volume with the secret compartment, I placed what remained of the bottle of flammable foul-smelling fluid from the Star-Fire Temple. Packing away Albray's stone proved not so easy.

After a long discussion by the fire in my drawing room one evening, having reminisced about our journey together, my knight and I both agreed that if I cherished my marriage, our further a.s.sociation simply wasn't going to work. It wasn't that Devere didn't like Albray. How could he not, when the knight had saved our lives? It was more that my husband wasn't comfortable with another man, even a dead one, being closer to me than he was.

It was Albray who requested that his stone of summons be packed away in the back of Lord Hamilton's hollow journal, and that the volumes, along with my journal, be pa.s.sed down through the female line of my family.

'But what if I never have a daughter?' I inquired, as Albray had predicted I was having a boy child.

'You shall be far too happy within your marriage to Devere, I fear, for I foresee that you shall be blessed with several children.' The knight's news shocked me. 'Teach them all that you know, and that there is a world of many beliefs out there...none of them perfect, but all worthy of consideration and respect.'

My guardian and I conversed until dawn, and with the coming of the first rays of the new day I dismissed Albray from my life.

I was sad that I had not been the one to free Albray from his curse. Still, as I placed the stone inside the secret compartment, I knew that many years from now, one of my great, great grand-daughters would find this stone and free the knight, just as the black-clad female spirit in the temple had a.s.sured me.

It was on a visit to the home of Lord Malory, many years later, that I finally discovered the ident.i.ty of the dark lady. The lord was the proud owner of a magnificent painting depicting Mary Magdalene's arrival in France, her belly swollen with child. The woman in the painting was the very image of the mysterious dark lady who had spoken with me in the temple. Obviously this painting was a recent creation and not a portrait of the Great Mother herself, but perhaps she had chosen to present herself to me in this image, knowing that one day I would see this painting and recognise her.

Whatever the reason for the striking coincidence, it was her prediction that influenced me to compile this account of Albray, and the quest to secure the treasures entrusted to our family line. On my honour, every word of this account is true.

Dear daughter, if you are reading this journal and have found the treasure stone of my knight, then perhaps you are the one who will free him? If you do, I a.s.sure you that you shall find a friend and guardian beyond reproach, whose wise counsel, bravery and devotion will capture your heart, as surely as it did mine. I am forever in this man's debt, and if you do manage to succeed where I have failed, dear one, then I am forever in your debt also.

Yours, Ashlee Devere

'The pleasure was all mine, Ashlee.' I closed the huge old volume and looked at Albray, who had fallen asleep on my shoulder-an amazing feat since this was his first experience of air travel.

I didn't want to take my eyes off my lover in case he vanished again and sleep hardly seemed so inviting now that my knight was part of my reality. But my body was begging me to shut down my questioning mind and heightened emotions.

I leant my head upon Albray's to get comfortable, when I noted a man, seated across the aisle from us, look away quickly when my gaze fell upon him. Under normal circ.u.mstances I would not have thought twice about it, but after reading volumes about secret brotherhoods and manipulating bloodlines and romances, I had become overly paranoid. What if the brothers were still trying to create their superbeing? Surely a match like Albray and myself would be of great interest to them.

Get a grip, Mia. How could anyone possibly know that you are a daughter of Isis, or that Albray is a resurrected Grail prince from the thirteenth century? I comforted myself with the notion that I might look like someone the fellow knows, or he could be a pervert, or perhaps I had food on my face? I checked my face to eliminate the last possibility. I comforted myself with the notion that I might look like someone the fellow knows, or he could be a pervert, or perhaps I had food on my face? I checked my face to eliminate the last possibility.

When I observed him for some time and he didn't give us a second glance, my guard came down along with my eyelids.

I was thinking of Lillet as I began to doze. I did feel a little guilty for stealing the love of her life, but then again the priestess had urged me not to make the same mistakes as she had regarding Albray and I fully intended to follow that advice.

I recognised the lovely garden I was entering, although I had hardly expected that I would have cause to return here.

When I entered through the gate to find Lillet seated beside the fountain where I had found her before, I was a little disappointed. 'What are you still doing here?' I came to stand before her. She rose to greet me, her smile broader than ever I had seen it.

'I have only delayed that I might bid you farewell.' She took hold of both my hands. 'I could not ascend from this place until I thanked you for fulfilling your promise to free Albray and myself.'

'You must know that I require no grat.i.tude for my actions,' I stated very definitely. 'I have been rewarded beyond my wildest expectations, and at your expense, I fear.'

'No,' Lillet corrected. 'The G.o.ddess has granted to each of us what we desired the most in life. You have acquired many insights, Albray has found his Grail princess and I shall finally have my union with the creator of all there is. I am to a.s.sume my rightful place amongst our foremothers, until such time as I am once again called to take up a physical world incarnation.'

'I promise I shall do all within my power to ensure that it is a better, more aware world for you to return to.' I was carried away by the emotion of the moment, but I did mean what I said. Just how I expected to achieve such a promise was quite beyond my comprehension at present. 'I cannot thank you enough for all your aid.'

Lillet kissed both my cheeks in turn and stepping away she let go of my hands. 'You take good care of our knight.'

I awoke to turbulence and Albray gripping my arm-the violent, bone-rattling jolts our plane was undergoing understandably made him nervous.

'Just a few air pockets,' I explained, which didn't clarify the problem for him, but my lack of panic set him at ease.

The seatbelt sign was on and I fastened my seatbelt, Albray following suit. 'A good read?' He motioned to the large journal that had slid down beside me on the seat.

'Better than any fantasy fiction novel ever,' I jested, although I didn't really read the genre. My eyes drifted across the aisle to find that the man who had been watching us earlier was now absent. Everyone had been instructed to return to their seats for landing, so where was he?

'Surely you still don't believe it was a work of fiction?' Albray challenged lightly. Noting my distraction he touched my cheek and drew my focus back to him.

'Oh, I believe,' I admitted freely. 'But no one else would.' I removed my seatbelt and rose to look for one of our hostesses.

'Is something the matter?' Albray quizzed.

'I'm not too sure.' I looked for the hostess who came over when I beckoned to her. 'There was a gentleman seated here earlier.' I referred her to the vacant seat across the aisle.

The hostess shook her head. 'The seat was unoccupied,' she a.s.sured me. 'Please be seated. We'll be landing in just a few minutes.'

'My apologies.' I sat and fastened my seatbelt.

'You just said that no one would believe your story, but you suspect we are being spied on?' My knight c.o.c.ked an eye, confused. 'So what do you believe?'

'People move about in aircraft all the time.' I waved off the mystery. 'Or perhaps I was dreaming?' I considered this likely, as I'd certainly been very tired. 'I am quite sure there is no one following my family line any more.'

'You think Molier hiring you was an accident then?' Albray raised a very good point. If Molier had known I was of the blood, then perhaps other persons knew it too? 'I can tell you that the brothers kept a close eye on the Deveres and all their descendants,' Albray said.

'How could you know that, if you never saw Ashlee again after the Sinai adventure?'

'I never said that I never saw Lady Granville-Devere after that,' Albray defended.

'But Ashlee said so, in the epilogue of her journal.' I raised the mighty book to show him.

Albray placed a hand upon the book, unable to cope with the thought of reading while enduring the erratic motion of the aircraft. 'I suspect you'll find other journals written by Ashlee later in life in that big old chest you inherited.'

'More tales featuring my favourite hero!' I held his hand in both my own and squeezed, delighted at the prospect of reading more of my great-great-grandmother's adventures. 'Did she make any other esoterically groundbreaking discoveries?'

'Many,' Albray teased. 'Perhaps you shall be the one to compile a thesis based on your family history and shed light on some of the most ancient of mysteries.' Albray made this sound like a dare. Albray teased. 'Perhaps you shall be the one to compile a thesis based on your family history and shed light on some of the most ancient of mysteries.' Albray made this sound like a dare.

The idea was so shocking that I choked on a laugh. 'Write about this little episode?' I was horrified by the notion and yet I had already found several interesting avenues to research in the field of modern science. Born in the computer age, I had access to far greater amounts of information than any of my foremothers. What had been merely theory to them, science could now confirm as fact.

'You do come from a long line of prolific writers,' Albray encouraged. 'Both Lillet and Ashlee were always hunched over a blank page, chronicling the events of their life and times. And if they had not made the effort, I doubt you would have survived your recent peril.'

'I shall certainly consider adding to the accounts in my family inheritance.' I felt comfortable committing to that.

'You would not have to publish under your own name,' Albray continued. 'And, as you say, it would make a great work of fiction.' He raised both eyebrows in challenge.

I loved his smile, having so seldom seen it. 'Perhaps.'

BIBLIOGRAPHY.