She said, "Does anyone know today exactly how Ivan the Terrible died?"

"Back in the sixties, when they were restoring the place where he was buried, they exhumed his body and did an autopsy. He died of mercury poisoning."

"So he didn't die of natural causes. He was murdered, like Rasputin was murdered, and look how hard it was to do even that. I remember reading about it in a history cla.s.s, how they tried everything to get rid him-cyanide, bullets, bashing him over the head, and finally dumping him in an icy river. It's one of history's great mysteries: Why he was so hard to kill? So what if the altar can make you immortal, Ry, in the sense that the only way you can die is if someone kills you, or you're in an airplane crash, or you get hit by a truck?"

Ry thrust his fingers through his hair. "You can prove anything if you never have to validate your starting a.s.sumptions. Okay, so a long time ago some witch doctor gets murdered and his body's buried in a cave. And by some wild coincidence when they stick him in the ground, a spring wells up, and then someone builds an altar out of human bones on top of it because, oh, h.e.l.l, I don't know ... maybe because bones were the only thing she had handy. But just because the altar and the spring exist, that suddenly doesn't make it into some kind of fountain of youth."

"But the riddles, the icon, all those generations of Keepers ... Why would they do all that to protect a secret that isn't real?"

"It never had to be real, Zoe. They just needed to believe that it was."

SHE GREW QUIET after that, and Ry thought she'd fallen asleep. after that, and Ry thought she'd fallen asleep.

But then she said, "Rasputin told the Okhrana spy that he saw the Lady icon sitting on top of an altar made of human bones inside a cave in Siberia. He also said he brought some of the bone juice out of the cave with him in a vial, that he was giving it to the sick boy, keeping him alive with it."

"Or," Ry said, "he could have just had a talent for using the power of positive suggestion. He was never able to actually cure Alexei's hemophilia for good, just bring him relief from the symptoms."

She waved a hand. "Whatever he did, it helped, so work with me a little here, okay, O'Malley? My grandmother gave Marilyn Monroe a green gla.s.s amulet in the shape of human skull and she called it the altar of bones. My great-grandmother Lena probably brought both the amulet and the icon with her when she escaped from the Norilsk gulag and made her way to Shanghai."

Ry tried to imagine doing such a thing, and couldn't. "She must've been one h.e.l.l of woman. Tough and gutsy and smart. Just like her great-granddaughter."

He saw Zoe's cheeks flush, and she wouldn't meet his eyes. He wanted to tell her that he meant it, that he'd never before known a woman like her, and he wanted to know her better, deeper, and keep on knowing her and never stop.

"Anyway, the point I was trying to make wasn't all that earth-shattering," she said. "Just that even if we find the amulet, what's inside of it will have come from the altar, but it won't be be the altar. The altar of bones is in a cave hidden behind a waterfall, on a forgotten lake somewhere near Norilsk." the altar. The altar of bones is in a cave hidden behind a waterfall, on a forgotten lake somewhere near Norilsk."

"Do you want to go to Siberia now, instead?"

"No, St. Petersburg first. Then Siberia."

ZOE GREW QUIET again after that, and this time she did sleep. For about fifteen minutes, maybe, then she awoke with a start, her eyes a little wild. Ry saw that her thigh muscle was trembling again. again after that, and this time she did sleep. For about fifteen minutes, maybe, then she awoke with a start, her eyes a little wild. Ry saw that her thigh muscle was trembling again.

"You're okay," Ry said. "You're with me in the Beamer, heading G.o.d alone knows where."

"Oh." She scrubbed her hands over her face, then looked out the pa.s.senger-side window at the view far below them, of the Danube snaking around wooded hills and the red-tile roofs of another little village. "Not back to Budapest?" she said, apparently just now noticing which direction they were headed in.

"I suppose we are going to have to stop and turn around eventually." He let another half a mile click by, then said, "Not to change the subject, but that was a fine bootlegger's turn you did back there. n.o.body can pull off that kind of fancy driving on instinct. You gotta be taught it, and you need practice."

She didn't say anything. In some ways she was the most open person he'd ever met. But he also sensed hidden places in her, like folds in the heart, where she h.o.a.rded her thoughts and feelings, and Ry got that. He wasn't all that good either at opening up the secret parts of himself.

She turned her face toward the window and he was about to just let it go when she said, "My father committed suicide the week before the start of my junior year in high school."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Her throat worked as she swallowed. "Thank you.... Anyway, my mother had already pretty much taken over the actual running of the family business by then, and I don't need to elaborate what the family business was since you were working for her."

"Anna Larina isn't you."

"Yeah? Nature or nurture. I guess with some families it hardly matters." Zoe laughed. Ry heard the bitterness and understood it, because for the last year and a half he'd been wondering the same thing. What parts of his father, the traitor, the a.s.sa.s.sin, did he carry around inside himself?

Probably more than he was ready to admit to right now. He'd joined the Special Forces right out of college, and they'd trained him to kill, just as his father had been taught to kill. h.e.l.l, at the time, his brother, Dom, had even accused him of signing up because he was trying "to out-tough the old man." Later he'd gone to work for the DEA, where he often volunteered for the hairiest undercover work because he got off on the excitement of it, the lying and the spying, the cat-and-mouse games, and he was good at them, too.

Just like his old man.

"By the time I was old enough to understand what was going on," Zoe was saying, "Daddy was just a figurehead, somebody to give the orders because the vors vors and captains and other sundry thugs would've balked at the thought of taking them directly from a woman." and captains and other sundry thugs would've balked at the thought of taking them directly from a woman."

Ry said, "They had to know who was the real brains behind the operation, though. I've joined a few gangs of one sort or another while undercover, and one of the first things you figure out fast is who's really calling the shots."

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe as long as Anna Larina allowed him to act the part of the pakhan pakhan, Daddy could fool himself into thinking he was the pakhan pakhan. He'd been molded for that life from practically before he could walk. To be the pakhan pakhan-it was what was expected of him, what he expected of himself."

Zoe went quiet again, thinking, remembering, and Ry let the silence fill the car until she chose to break it.

"He killed himself less than a week after Anna Larina pulled her infamous stunt with the head in the ice-cream tub. I've always thought that was why he did it. He knew only a true pakhan pakhan would have the toughness to do what she'd done, and he didn't have that sort of toughness. He knew that and he couldn't bear it, and so he killed himself." would have the toughness to do what she'd done, and he didn't have that sort of toughness. He knew that and he couldn't bear it, and so he killed himself."

She was sitting ramrod stiff in the pa.s.senger seat now, eyes straight ahead, chin in the air. She was trying to be so tough herself, Ry thought, and his heart ached for her.

"Anyway," she said, "Anna Larina crossed a big, bad line killing a top vors vors of the L.A. family, and Daddy was scared they would come after me in revenge. But I'd gotten this little red Miata for my birthday and I wanted to be out with my friends, go to Stinson Beach, to the Stones-town Mall, but Daddy was fixated on the idea they could get to me when I was in the car. He wanted me to take this course called Driving Techniques for Escape and Evasion, but I just rolled my eyes at him. Because I was sure I was G.o.d's gift and knew everything." of the L.A. family, and Daddy was scared they would come after me in revenge. But I'd gotten this little red Miata for my birthday and I wanted to be out with my friends, go to Stinson Beach, to the Stones-town Mall, but Daddy was fixated on the idea they could get to me when I was in the car. He wanted me to take this course called Driving Techniques for Escape and Evasion, but I just rolled my eyes at him. Because I was sure I was G.o.d's gift and knew everything."

"You were sixteen."

She shook her head. "That's no excuse."

Maybe, Ry thought. And maybe not. When he was that age, he was sure he knew everything and was invincible in the bargain.

"On the day of his funeral," she said, "I signed up for that defensive driving course, along with shooting and tae kwan do lessons. I thought it was the one thing I could still do for him even though he was now gone. I could keep myself safe for him."

A moment went by, then it hit them both at the same time, what she'd just said, and they started laughing and then couldn't stop.

"Oh, G.o.d. Keep myself safe," Zoe said, finally winding down. "I'm kind of sucking at that lately, aren't I?"

Ry turned his head to look at her. Her cheekbones were flushed from laughing, her eyes bright. Her mouth was open and wet. Half her hair had come out of its clip and curled around the side of her neck. Cupping her neck just the way a man's hand might do, if he had it in his mind to tilt back her head so he could kiss that wet, red mouth- A bang, loud as a cannon, rocked the car, and the steering wheel jerked in Ry's hands. He wrestled with it while he looked around wildly, thinking, What the h.e.l.l now? What the h.e.l.l now? Then he felt the cha.s.sis shimmy and heard the whop-whop of flapping rubber. Then he felt the cha.s.sis shimmy and heard the whop-whop of flapping rubber.

He pulled over to the side of the road and got out to take a look. Their left rear tire was in shreds.

"It must've taken a round from the Uzi," he said to Zoe as she got out to join him. "The bullet penetrated just enough to let the air out in a slow leak until it finally blew."

He laughed, feeling a little high after the big adrenaline rush. "I thought someone had lobbed a bomb at us."

She was feeling it, too; she was practically thrumming beside him. "You're telling me." She blew all the air out of her lungs in a big whoosh and lifted the hair off the back of her neck. "My leg's doing that twitching thing again, and I-"

He caught the back of her neck with his hand, pulling her face around to his, a little too rough, a little out of control. He kissed her and felt her gasp of surprise in his mouth, a warm, moist breath, and then she melted into him, opened her mouth to him.

They kissed, locked together, turning slowly, swaying. He ground himself against her belly. He was hot and hard for her and he wanted her to know it.

He was going too fast. He tried to gentle his kiss, but then she tangled her fingers in his hair and sucked on his tongue, pulling it deeper into her mouth, making love with their mouths, sucking, tonguing, and he was lost.

A hot, wet, gasping eternity later, he had her up against the Beamer's front fender, and they were fighting with the waistband of her jeans.

Zoe, her voice deep and rough, said, "G.o.d. I shoulda worn a dress," and Ry wanted to laugh, but he kept forgetting to breathe. She got a boot and her jeans and panties off one leg and that was enough. He had to be inside her now.

He gripped her waist with both hands, lifting her until her hips were braced on top of the hood of the car. He pushed her legs apart and thrust himself between them.

He felt her shudder, heard her moan, as the back of his hand brushed across her warm belly. He pushed a finger inside her. She was wet, hot, quivering, and he worked her with one hand while he wrenched desperately at his belt with the other, getting it open at last, at last, getting his zipper down, and all the while she was making little panting noises in his ear, "Hurry, hurry, hurry ..."

And then her hand found him, gripped him so tightly he nearly came right then.

He went into her, hard, and nearly came again at the hot, tight feel of her. She clutched his shoulders and arched her spine, and her head fell back, and she screamed. He pressed his own open mouth against her wildly beating throat and pushed deep, then pulled almost all the way out of her, then pushed into her again and she met him, rose with him, and they found a rhythm, a beating pulse, their bodies rocking together, and the car rocked with them.

Ry's last coherent thought was Oh, dear sweet heavenly Jesus ... Oh, dear sweet heavenly Jesus ...

43.

THEY SPRAWLED half on, half off the car in a tangle of clothes and she was looking up at him with sated eyes. Her mouth was wet, her lips slightly parted. half on, half off the car in a tangle of clothes and she was looking up at him with sated eyes. Her mouth was wet, her lips slightly parted.

"Oh, my ever-loving G.o.d," she said, her voice hoa.r.s.e, "that was ..." Her eyes focused on his face and she grinned, a big, happy grin, and then she gripped his jacket with both hands, pulled him closer. He lowered his head to kiss her, felt her arch up hard against him, and he groaned.

He heard her shouting, "Oh, my G.o.d, Ry. Oh, my G.o.d," and then he realized her hands were now balled into fists, and she was heaving, trying to push him off her.

He jerked upright and staggered back. "What? What's the matter?"

"Oh my G.o.d," she said again, almost falling off the car onto her knees in the dirt as she tried to get back into her panties and jeans.

"Jesus, Zoe. What? Did I hurt you?"

She was tugging on her zipper. "Huh? No, it was great. You were great, and I really want to do it again. But I really, really need to look at the icon right now."

She gave him a quick, hard kiss on the mouth, then ran to get her satchel out of the car.

Well, at least I was great.

He turned around to pull himself together and zipper up, feeling both amused and abused. When he turned back around, he saw that she'd taken the icon out of its pouch and laid it on the Beamer's hood, using the pouch for a pad. She looked over at him, the color now high in her face. "You got to promise not to laugh.... It's just I've never come like that before and-G.o.d, this is really embarra.s.sing."

"Hey." He slid his hand around the back of her neck and tilted her face so he could kiss her mouth. "It was the same for me, so I'm not going to laugh."

"Oh." Her eyes flickered up at him, then away. "I felt like I exploded inside, and I was lying there afterward, looking up at the sky and feeling like there were pieces of me floating around up there, a part of infinity now, and I thought, 'This is how it must have felt the day the world was created, like a kind of a cosmic organism,' and you said you wouldn't laugh."

"I'm not. Okay, maybe a little. But only because I love the quirky way your mind works."

"That's a good thing, I guess, because it's about to sound quirkier.... So I was thinking about the infinity of creation and my grandmother talking about infinity in her letter, telling me to look to the Lady, the icon. And then I thought about how ever since I first laid eyes on it in the griffin shop, it's been squirreling around in my brain that the way the jewels are laid out doesn't make sense. They aren't in the places where you'd expect them to be, like on her crown, or her slippers, or the hem of her robe, but instead they seem random. Then I suddenly realized they aren't random, at all. They form a pattern. Watch ..."

She started with the ruby in the center and traced two circles on either side of the skull cup, lightly touching each jewel in turn. "It's a figure eight, lying on its side."

"The symbol for infinity," Ry said, and his pulse leaped at the thought of it.

"'Look to the Lady, for her heart cherishes the secret, and the pathway to the secret is infinite.' Infinite. Infinity. I think we were right all along, Ry. The amulet is inside of her, in some kind of secret compartment. And the jewels are the pathway to opening it."

Ry picked up the icon, looked at it closer, but he still didn't see any breaks or seams in the wood.

"It could be a spring-lock mechanism," he said, as he carefully set the icon back down on its pouch. "And the stones could work on the same principle as keypads do today. Push one after another in the right order and the lock will spring open."

"That's it," Zoe exclaimed, bouncing up and down on her toes, she was that excited.

She reached out with her finger, and Ry realized she was about to start pushing the stones w.i.l.l.y-nilly. He grabbed her wrist. "Whoa, hold on a sec. The whole point of an infinity symbol is that it has no beginning or end. So where are you going to start?"

"With the ruby in the skull cup."

"Okay, that's probably logical, but then what? Do you go up and to the right, or up and to the left? Down and to the right? Or down and to the left?"

"So I got four choices. If one way doesn't work, I'll try another."

"Yeah? And what if the guy who designed this was a tricky b.a.s.t.a.r.d. He could've-"

"Why are you a.s.suming it was done by a he? It was probably a she. A Keeper."

He held up his hands. "Okay, okay. I concede the point. It probably was a Keeper, but if she had a quirky mind like another Keeper I happen to know, she could have designed the locking mechanism so that if the jewels get pressed out of order, the spring jams and the lock won't open."

They both stared down at the icon a long moment. Then Zoe said, "Well, if that doesn't just suck."

Ry studied the face of the Virgin. It really was uncanny how much she looked like Zoe. Had a Keeper painted this herself five centuries ago and used her own face as the model?

"Do something for me, Zoe. Draw the infinity symbol in the dust here on the hood of the car.... No, don't look at the icon. Just do it without thinking. In fact, draw it with your eyes shut."

She closed her eyes and drew the symbol, starting in the center and going up and to the left, which was probably the last way he would have done it. He'd have gone up and to the right.

And maybe that just proved his point. If Zoe and the Keeper on the icon looked so much alike, then maybe they thought alike as well.

"I say we go with your instincts, babe," he said. "We've got a one-in-four chance of being right, and so far we've been beating the odds."

But now Zoe was the one to hesitate. "I don't know.... You said the whole point of an infinity symbol is that it has no beginning and no end-The riddle, Ry! It's in the riddle. 'Blood flows into the sea ... Blood flows on into the sea without end.' "

She s.n.a.t.c.hed up her satchel, opened it, pawed through more stuff than you'd find at a Walmart, and produced the unicorn postcard with a flourish. She turned it over and read out loud the riddle her grandmother had written on the back even though they both knew it by heart by now.

Blood flows into the seaThe sea touches the skyFrom the sky falls the iceFire melts the iceA storm drowns the fireAnd rages through the nightBut blood flows on into the seaWithout end.

"This is it, Ry. This is it! Blood, sea, sky, ice, fire, storm, night-they all represent colors, in a way. Blood for red, sky for blue. And the colors match up to the jewels. Red ruby, blue sapphire. The riddle is the code."

"And your instinct was right on, too. 'Blood flows into the sea' ... ruby to aquamarine. Up and to the left."

She grinned up at him, looking pleased with herself. "Let's do it," he said, his voice a little rough. "I'll read the riddle one line at a time, and you press the stones. One at a time, nice and slow."

"Okay." She did a big inhale, exhale, then held out her hands and wriggled her fingers like a safecracker. "I'm ready."

"'The blood flows into the sea.' "