Draw One In The Dark(109)

His father looked away and there was a silence from everyone else for a moment. "Anyway," Tom said, "leaving the Pearl somewhere and letting them know later is the best plan I've heard, Keith. Perhaps leave it in a bucket of water and call them though, instead of leaving it in the open and letting them sense it. We don't know if there are other dragons like me around and getting it stolen again would be a pain. They'd only come after me again."



"Yeah," Rafiel said. "So . . . where did you hide the Pearl and how much trouble do we need to go through to retrieve it?"



Tom did a fast calculation in his head. He wasn't sure of Rafiel or his father yet. Though, sadly, he was more sure of Rafiel than his father. Rafiel had at least fought against the triad dragons.



But he'd misjudged his father once. He looked sidelong at his father, and read discomfort and understanding in his eyes, as if he were completely sure Tom wouldn't trust him, and understood it too. As well he should. And yet . . . Tom was going to have to take the risk at some point. Might as well start.



"It's in the toilet tank at the Athens," Tom said. "The ladies' room. It has a huge toilet tank, the old-fashioned kind, so I just put it in there."



Kyrie's eyes grew huge. "What if the tank had stopped?" she asked. "What if . . ."



He shrugged. "It seemed fairly sturdy. Besides, I wrapped the Pearl in dark cloth, before I put it in. You know the light isn't very good there. If someone looked in there, as ancient as the tank is, they'd just think there was some type of old-fashioned flushing mechanism that they didn't understand."



"And it's been there?" Rafiel asked. "These six months?"



Tom nodded.



"Have you considered," Rafiel said, "that maybe it's the Pearl that's attracting people to the Athens and making them feel at home there?"



"I don't think so," Tom said. "If I can't feel it when it's submerged, if the triad dragons can't feel it while it's submerged, then how should strangers?"



"Besides," Kyrie said, "that feeling was there before. It was there a good six months before that. I felt . . . I know this is going to sound very strange, but I felt almost called to Goldport. Like I had to come here. And once I got here, I had to go to the Athens. Then I saw the wanted sign and I applied."



Rafiel fidgeted. "I developed the habit of going to the Athens for breakfast about a year ago too. And it's not near my house. I just felt . . . called to go there. And I felt okay once I was there."



Tom sighed. "I came to the Athens a few times for meals, before Frank noticed me. He asked if I wanted a job. I didn't want to take job under false pretenses, so I told him the truth. That I was homeless, that I hadn't had a fixed address for a long time, that I'd never had a full-time job and that I had a drug habit I was working on kicking. He told me as long as I kept clean once he'd hired me, he didn't mind any of those. . . . What's weird is that I'd already stopped in Goldport, and I had no idea why. It was like something in my subconscious had called me here, and to the Athens."



"Aha," Keith said. "Beetles. Mr. Ormson, is your computer connected to the Internet, and can I use it?"



Tom's father nodded. "Sure. Why?"



"I want to search the Natural History Museum. They have a lot of their collections online now. And they have a bunch of links to other scientific institutions."



"What do you mean by aha beetles?" Tom asked.



"Well . . ." Keith blushed. "You see, I like reading weird things."



"You told us," Kyrie said. "Comics and SF."



"Eh. Those are actually the sanest things I read. I also read science books. For fun. As I said, biology is fascinating, particularly insects. I seem to remember that certain beetles can put down pheromones that attract other beetles and their particular type of prey to their environment." He shrugged, blushing to the eyes. "So I think we should find out if the beetle Kyrie says looks like the shifter beetles is one of those."



"Makes sense," Rafiel said.



"Let me help you navigate the computer," Tom's father said, "in just a moment. Meanwhile . . . Tom, I don't mean . . . Well, you have blood on your face and your hair, and I thought . . ." He'd walked to the bed and pulled up one of bags. "I don't think you've changed pants size, and I just got you XL shirts and that. I grabbed you some socks and underwear too. The store here only has designer clothing, but I didn't want to go outside and look for another store."



Clothes? His father had got him clothes? Tom's first impulse was to say no and scowl. But if he was trying to keep his purity from his father's gifts, he was a little late. While the others talked, he'd been happily munching away on his chocolate with nuts. And the box was empty. Besides, he hated wearing jeans without underwear; the leather boots, without socks, were rubbing his feet raw; and if he was to have to go out soon, then he would have to shower.