“Does it matter?”
“It might.” Alex hesitated before she said, “I compared your old blood tests to hers to see what genes you might share, and I discovered you have quite a lot in common. Your profiles indicate that you and Simone have the same parent. She’s your half sister.”
“But I’m an only child.” She went still as she recalled what Frankie had told her. “My father was some guy my mother met while she was on vacation in France. Is he still . . . ?”
Alex made a face. “Sorry, sweetheart. He died of leukemia ten years ago.” She touched Chris’s shoulder. “But hey, you’ve got a sister over there, and she’s made the change, too. If it’s okay, I’d like to let her know about you.”
“Let me talk to Jamys about it first. We don’t want any more new drama.” When Alex gave her a blank look, Chris added, “For saving Sam’s life, Lucan convinced your guy to give Jamys rule over the Caribbean islands. The tresoran council believes I was killed in the explosion on the Golden Horde, and so do the traitors. The few people who know different aren’t going to expose me. We’re safe here, and we’re happy. End of drama.”
“What about the emeralds Richard wants?” Alex asked. “You and Jamys have any ideas where they are?”
“We traced them to a jeweler in Fort Lauderdale, but they were stolen from him and have vanished again.” She shrugged. “Not like we need them anymore.”
“If Richard finds out you were changed, you’re going to have plenty of drama on your hands,” the doctor warned her. “So just keep a low profile for now, and we’ll let you know what happens with this idiot gem quest.” She went to the door and opened it suddenly, startling Jamys. “She’s all yours.”
“Yes.” Jamys smiled at Chris. “She is.”
After Dr. Keller had left, Jamys and Chris went for a walk on the beach, where some of the women were sitting and watching the waves.
“My lord, my lady.” Werren got to her feet and dusted off her hands. “Did all go as expected with the leech?”
“We call them doctors now,” Chris said, and nodded. “I’m doing fine. How about you and the ladies?”
“Very well, thank you.”
When Jamys had offered to bring the women from the Golden Horde down to the islands with them, Sam had been grateful, Lucan annoyed, and Chris uncertain. But since arriving, the women had worked tirelessly to help set up their household and keep things running smoothly, and were now talking about opening some gift and clothing shops to bring in some additional income for the jardin.
“A courier brought a package from Lord Alenfar while you were being examined,” Werren said. “I left it on the night table by your bed.”
Chris looped her arm through Jamys’s as they walked back up to the main house. “Do you think it’s the emeralds, and he wants us to hide them from Richard?”
He kissed the top of her head. “I am too busy hiding you from Richard.”
In the bedchamber Chris opened the small package, which contained a folded note and Father Bartley’s journal. “Someone’s been borrowing things from museums without permission.” She opened the note to read it out loud. “‘Burn this, bury it, but do not let it fall into the hands of another mortal fool. L.’” She tried to hand the note and the journal to Jamys, but the binding split suddenly and the pages from the journal dropped to the floor. “Terrific, I broke it.”
Jamys crouched down and picked up the pages, but when he tried to replace them in the binding, he stopped and lifted one of the inner flaps. “There is something under here.” He took out a yellowed, folded piece of parchment and opened it to reveal an old map of Florida.
“There are some roads or trails marked.” She peered at what had been written in the faded ink in one corner. “This looks like directions to somewhere in central Florida.” She pointed to three gem-shaped symbols drawn next to a circled area. “This could be the first mate’s map.” She looked up at Jamys. “What if the pirate who confessed to Bartley stole it before he jumped ship?”
“We can no longer pursue this quest without exposing you to the high lord.” Jamys took the map from her, folded it up, and placed it in a plain envelope. “We should send it to the Kyn lord who rules over the territory marked on the map, and let him decide what to do with it.”
“Her,” Chris corrected. “The suzeraina of Orlando is Jayr mac Byrne.” She took a pen and jotted the address of Jayr’s stronghold on the envelope before she put it and the journal aside. “Do you think the emeralds are somewhere in her territory?”