Labyrinth

“Potato, potahto. Your judgment doesn’t concern me in the slightest.”

“Apparently.”

Greene inhaled again. “Do you know what it’s like to watch the planet being ravaged and destroyed right in front of your eyes?”

“I’ve been around the world,” Annja said. “I’ve seen abject poverty, environmental disasters. And, usually, they’re caused by people like you who con themselves into believing their cause is just. Except justice is a facade. You’re all after power or money. Greed drives you and others like you. You can try to spin it, but it doesn’t change that you’re out for yourself.”

Greene slapped her so suddenly that the shock of it sent Annja reeling. She tasted blood in her mouth and took a breath.

“You don’t know me, Annja Creed. And you have no right to criticize the work I’ve done.”

Annja wiped her mouth. “You were the one who kidnapped me, Greene. I don’t want to be here. But you gave me no choice. So, as far as I’m concerned, I have every right to comment on your petty little world vision. Don’t like it? Then you can drop me off here.”

“Or I could just kill you.”

“Nah, you need me. Reginald’s waiting, remember?”

“I told you I could find another way if it became necessary.”

Annja smirked. “Yeah, you said that. But I don’t believe you. If there was another way, then you probably wouldn’t have driven to Brooklyn to kidnap me. But the fact you drove down to New York tells me you’ve run out of options.”

Greene sat smoking quietly for a few moments. “All right, I’ll be honest. I do need you. But would you prefer to do this in relatively decent health or in a world of pain?”

“You’re into torture, too? Well, there’s another character trait to be proud of.” Annja shook her head. “You’re just full of greatness, aren’t you?”

Grudgingly, Greene laughed. “Compliments will only get you so far, Annja.”

She could, of course, use the sword to kill Greene and his associate behind the wheel. But what would that achieve, except her freedom? Annja would never find out what Reginald Fairclough wanted with her. Or how he even knew her.

She racked her brain but the name still didn’t ring any bells. Of course, it was a little tough thinking when she was feeling the secondhand effects of Greene’s marijuana.

Her head swam, but Annja blinked the dizziness away. “Tell me more about the book dealer.”

Greene eyed her. “We have a detente?”

“We don’t have anything, Greene. You’ve got a captive—for the moment—and my piqued curiosity. I don’t think I know Fairclough, yet he wants to see me. That intrigues me.”

“Lucky me,” Greene said. “I’ve piqued your curiosity.” He chuckled quietly and then coughed. “Fairclough is one of the most renowned experts in early history texts. I don’t suppose you know much about that, do you?”

Annja shrugged. “You’d be surprised.”

“I’m sure.”

“Fairclough apparently thinks I’ve got some value.”

Greene mercifully stubbed out his cigarette and regarded Annja. “He’s bordering on insane.”

“Well, good, then you two will have a lot to talk about.”

“He’s also dying right now. As we speak.”

“From what?”

Greene smiled. “I’ve got him hooked up to a slow IV drip. It’s currently leaking a motley assortment of narcotics into his bloodstream. I’d give him about thirty-six hours before he’s dead.”

Annja looked at Greene. “Why in the world are you killing him?”

“He’s got something I want. I thought I told you that earlier.”

“You mentioned that. But you didn’t tell me what it was you’re after.”

“I want a certain book in his collection. It’s very old. Ancient, in fact. Fairclough acquired it a few years ago. It’s his most prized possession.”

“Well, I don’t blame him for not wanting to give it to you. A manmade book? You’d probably just burn it.”

“I will do no such thing,” Greene protested. “In fact, I want to study it and learn what it has to teach.”

“What’s so special about this book?”

“It’s an ancient account of the history of the world. The tome used to be in the library at Alexandria. Of course, the history ends with the destruction of the library.”

Annja narrowed her eyes. “I thought the texts in the library were incinerated during the fire.”

“They were.”

“But not all of them.”

“Not all of them,” Greene agreed. “And Fairclough got his hands on this text. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

“Maybe.”

“The Tome of Prossos, the ascetic.”

“What do you hope to learn from it?”

Greene shrugged. “It might tell me a lot about how the world used to be before we all got into the business of destroying our home.”

Annja waited for him to continue. When he didn’t she prodded, “Is that it?”

“Does there need to be more?”

“I guess not,” Annja said. “But I don’t think you’re being honest with me. Whatever. I’ll talk to Fairclough. But don’t think for a moment that I’ll help you get it back from him.”

“You might change your mind once you meet him. He can be quite persuasive.”

“Does he kill people to get his point across?”

“Not that I know of.”