“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“However, you took a deadly risk going into the basement during Lord Balthazar’s imprisonment. You could have been killed.”
“He wouldn’t hurt me.” Eva felt confident in her words.
“Really? I’m fully armed and have known Lord Balthazar for years. I wouldn’t have gone downstairs.” They had just reached the back door when Thorsson grasped her arm. “I will inform my men to meet you. I will keep the lords occupied until you’re gone.” He squeezed her arm. “You will be careful, or Lord Balthazar will have my head on a platter. And possibly yours as well.”
She swallowed the sudden fear that built in her throat, but nodded.
He released her. “I hope that you’re successful.”
***
It was twelve-thirty by her watch. Eva recognized several employees as they left the museum for lunch, while visitors entered the building. It was the height of tourist season, with many strangers visiting the city.
Svensson, Thorsson’s second in command, had offered a brief description of Ti. “Dark red wavy hair, green eyes, similar in looks to Lord Balthazar.”
“But that will all be for nothing if he sniffs you out first,” Evaldsson, the second security guard added.
“How the hell can I outwit a dragon?” she demanded.
“By being smarter. Faster would help you too.”
She had called Papa when they arrived in the city and found out that he wasn’t at the museum, thank God. She didn’t want him involved or to get hurt because of her.
“How are you, my dear?” he had asked. “Is everything okay?”
“For the most part.”
“And this threat on Mr. Andal’s life? Has it been resolved?”
“No Papa, not yet.”
He sighed. “Please be careful, Eva. If you cannot do anything until it’s over, then stay safe. But please—nothing impulsive. I love you.”
“I love you too, Papa.”
Evaldsson had provided them with tiny communication links, and she placed one in her ear. Guilt shadowed her as she slipped inside the building, Svensson a step behind her. Balthazar’s concern for her safety meant nothing if he couldn’t defeat Ti. She hoped that he would forgive her for sneaking away without a word to him.
Svensson would watch while she tracked down the artifacts she and Papa had brought back. It had been less than a week since their return—it felt like ages in her mind—so they should still be in the category room.
A few tourists wandered the main gallery and the smaller halls, but no one resembled Ti’s description. They reached the back of the museum without incident.
“Sir, do you copy?” Svensson asked.
“Loud and clear.” Thorsson’s voice echoed in her ear.
“Evaldsson, you copy?” Svensson whispered into his earpiece.
“Roger. Miss Haraldsdóttir, can you hear us clearly?”
She touched her ear. “Roger.”
Svensson nodded. “Let’s do this. And try not to touch your ear—it’ll give you away.”
“All right.” She walked quickly down a narrow hallway, turned left, and finally stood in front of the large, triple glazed panel of glass where tourists could watch her colleagues study and identify their findings. Luckily, no one was in the room.
She punched in the six-digit passcode, and the door opened on a hiss as the vacuum seal was disengaged. “You’ll have to wait outside,” she told Svensson. “The artifacts are very delicate, and I don’t want anything disturbed.”
Svensson opened the door wider and looked around. “Is there another exit?”
“Yes.” Eva pointed to the emergency exit on the right-hand wall at the back of the room.
“If anything happens, you get your ass out that way.”
Eva nodded, but she was scared. “I’ll lock the door behind me.”
“Get back to Evaldsson as fast as you can. Don’t worry about me.”
“I promise. But I’d rather do this quickly so we can both get away.”
Eva locked the door, then quickly pulled on a lab coat, mask and a pair of surgical gloves. It was silent in the room except for her frantic breathing. She took several deep breaths to calm herself, then opened the drawers marked Lysuhóll Volcano. Besides the beautiful dragon vase, she and Papa had also found a Viking shield, bronze and gold plates, swords and spears. Another drawer contained precious stones, coins, and jewelry from a Viking grave. The Viking skeleton was in another room.
Based on Lancelot’s description of a dragon scale, the Viking shield and plates looked promising. “Shit.” Under normal circumstances, she would apply a mild acid solution to see what lay beneath the metal and wood. But there was no time.