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They'd learned that Psili Ammos was the most beautiful beach, one that was
also the most remote, exotic, and surrounded by wilderness. It was only a
twenty-minute walk by way of the little footpath over the mountain. The friar
also let on that if one were discreet, one could bathe in the skinny. That
level of seclusion meant that said beach sounded like a good place to set up
temporary camp and have a full team meeting without eavesdroppers. After the
tour, that would be good. One thing for sure, they'd have to get moving before
everyone fell asleep where they sat.
But first, she needed to see the library, even though she hadn't a clue to
what she was looking for. Father Patrick had sent them on a mission to Patmos
for a reason, even though he wasn't sure exactly why. Maybe he thought that at
this particular citadel, if the Darkness came calling, it was their best
stronghold against it. Who knew?
"So, then we must go to fulfill your curiosity," Father Koustsanellos said to
Carlos. He stood patting his belly, making the group smile, and everyone
slowly got up and stretched, commenting on how fantastic the meal had been.
"This library," their host said with pride, "is today considered one of the
foremost libraries of Christianity. Manuscripts, vellum codices, even books
written on cotton . . . works include Xenofonta, Plato, the Great
Philosophical School of Mystra, and the classic text, Aristotle's Accuses. By
the thirteenth century it was stocked full and kept on growing . . . it is
called the Soul Hospital."
Damali's and Carlos's attention jerked toward each other at the mention of the
place being a soul hospital. They entered the massive room that had every wall
lined with grand, carved wooden bookshelves. The center was supported by stone
columns, and plaster arches loomed high.
"We like to believe that St. John also blesses this library, as he is the
patron saint of booksellers and the fine arts . . . remember his trials and
burdens," the friar said, folding his hands over his barrel stomach. "He was
arrested and thrown into a vat of burning oil, from which he emerged unhurt.
Then he was exiled here in the company of an eagle, where he wrote Revelations
. . . then upon his return to Ephesus eighteen month later, he survived yet
another ordeal set up by the high priest of Ephesus they poisoned the man," he
whispered, drawing Guardians in close. "They offered the saint a golden
chalice, but John blessed it, and the venom in the form of a snake was drawn
from the liquid."
"This is what he must have been trying to warn us of," Val said excitedly and
stepped back.
"Pardon?" the monk said, confused as his gaze roved the team.
"Yolando told me to be careful what I eat and bless it for everybody."
Valkyrie walked over to Damali. "May I share with you?"
"Yeah, girl, c'mon if you've got info, spit it out."
"Father, do you have docs that date back to that time we can see, so we can
see what John actually said over the chalice?" Carlos was already scanning the
walls as he asked the question.
"Absolutely," the monk said, rushing about the shelves as Damali stepped to
the side to privately confer with Valkyrie.
"Talk to me, girl." Damali's gaze was unblinking.
"Some of this is very private," Val said and then looked away. "I should not
like for the more intimate details to be shared with the male Neteru."
"I'll respect that your source is Yonnie, right? I understand more than you
know."
The two women shared a look.
"Yes," Val said quietly. "And at some point, if you deem it within your heart,
I would appreciate any advice you would graciously share with me on how to
manage these . . . feelings and my role as a warrior. I am so beset by
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conflict. You have balanced your role with dignity and grace. I aspire."
Damali hugged her. "We'll talk, lady I promise. Let me in. I cast no judgment.
But if there's something dangerous we need to know, we can't tap-dance around
it."
Valkyrie immediately relaxed and the brief comment from Yonnie filled Damali's
mind. She looked past the broiling scene and kept focusing on Yonnie's words.
Then white arsenic surfaced from the passion haze that had buried it in Val's
consciousness.
"Lucrezia!" Damali breathed. She dropped her hold on Val and all eyes turned
toward her. "The queen of poison white arsenic being her specialty, is a new
councilwoman and Nuit's latest . . . wife." Damali looked around and blew a
stray lock up off her forehead. "That means water, food, even toothpaste,
gang, you've gotta say whatever St. John did over your stuff until we get past
this drama. But that's part of why we came here. They could have taken us out
without even firing the first warning shot."
"You do not have to worry about anything you had here. There's a flour mill on
the premises, we make our own wine, all of our food is made from here." Father
Koustsanellos said, seeming nervous. His brow seemed feverish and Damali
looked from him to Big Mike.
Carlos stepped away from the shelves. "How you feeling, big guy?"
"Just a little dizzy, you know, the hot air and eating like a champ . . . I'll
be cool in a while," Mike said.
"Anybody know the reaction time of arsenic?" Damali said frantically, going to
each team member as her mouth went dry.
"From my old cop days we had a murder case where a wife took out her
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