Shadow Duel (Prof Croft Book 9) by Brad Magnarella (ereader with android .txt) 📕

he’s always shown with a scythe. Cronus used one to castrate his father, Uranus.”

I snapped my fingers. “Exactly. I think an artifact from a Cronus cult made its way to the Discovery Society. That artifact bonded to someone, and now that someone is using potions and time structures—the shadow and actual presents—to extract organs for a ritual. A ritual intended to free Cronus from Tartarus.”

“Oh, my,” Claudius said, looking from me to Gretchen worriedly.

“That someone also has help, a shapeshifter who can assume any form, including Cerberus, suggesting it may have roots in the Greek mythos too. Fortunately, I think it’s confined to the shadow present.

Fear the shadow of many faces, I’d been told. But I wasn’t sure the same held true for the perp: a master of many places.

I pointed to the box Mae was whispering over. “All of this activity awakened the Hermes essence, and the Tablet put out a call. That call attracted perhaps the only person in the shadow city who practiced magic of a kind the Tablet could use.” I raised my finger to indicate Sven, who stared back for a second before nodding importantly.

“The bonding enhanced your runic abilities,” I said. “It also enabled you to cross into the actual present, where I believe you were meant to find help.” I gestured to indicate all of us present. The explanation also fit with the Doideag’s questions:

Can a children’s love restore lost time? The cult’s worship for Cronus, a god of time.

Can the fleet of foot avert the crime? A reference to Hermes, who was often depicted with winged feet.

One was trying to bring Cronus back; the other was intent on stopping him.

But Gretchen reared back, nearly losing her cloche hat. “This has nothing to do with me.”

“Oh, yes, it does,” I said. “Because if the ritual is as powerful as I think it is, not only will Cronus be freed from Tartarus, he’s going to want to cleanse the world and start over.”

“I believe Professor Croft is right,” Sven said. “Cronus presided over the Golden Age. According to the myths, there was no need for laws because his human creations were perfect. They behaved and worshipped him without question. There’s no way he’s going to stand for what we’ve become.”

Mae hmphed in agreement, a sound Buster tried to mimic.

“But it’s all happening in that stupid shadow present,” Gretchen shot back.

“That may be where it begins,” I said. “But once Cronus replaces humankind with another worshipping race over there, that worship will grow his power. Eventually he’ll want to take back what he considers his rightful domain—the entire Universe, our in-living-color part included. As a god of time, he’ll be able to transit from the shadow realm. The war that follows will be cataclysmic.”

I was thinking of Sven’s dream now as well as the Doideag’s prophecy.

“Far better if we keep him from emerging from Tartarus in the first place,” I said. “And that means finding the killer before he claims the blood of the final victim, and recovering the Cronus artifact.”

Mae gave the box a final pat and set it back beside Sven. “I believe I talked it into lightening up some.”

Gretchen scoffed, but when Claudius took a closer look, he said, “By Jove, she has,” and stared at Mae with newfound reverence. “I would love to learn about your, ah, methods. Perhaps some night over dinner?”

“Goodness, I’m afraid I don’t stay up that late.”

“Well, um, I’m sure we could arrange something—”

Gretchen huffed loudly. “It won’t last,” she said of the tempered box. “It’s still going to strangle him.”

Sven looked over at me. “Strangle me?”

“No, no,” I said quickly, stepping in front of Gretchen. “It’s desperate, but it’s not going to strangle you.”

I felt more confident saying that now, knowing Mae could soften the bonding. Once the Cronus threat was averted, I was counting on the Hermes Tablet to release him from its hold altogether. But before I could say as much, my phone rang. I excused myself and stepped away from the others.

“How is he?” Vega asked.

“Much better. Sitting up now and eating. Thanks again for arranging this.”

“Good. I’ve been going over the Discovery Society records Hoffman sent me, and I found a pair of items listed in last month’s inventory that are missing from this one’s. The first was a journal from a 1909 Arctic expedition.”

“Huh.” Not what I’d been expecting. “And the other one?”

“A compass from another expedition, to the North Pole, it looks like.”

That lined up with Eldred’s account of overhearing Walter Mims mention two stolen items, but neither one fit my theory at all.

“Anything else?” I asked with flagging hope.

“I’ll give the records another pass, but those were the only two discrepancies I found. Mims marked them, in fact.”

My phone beeped, and I checked the caller.

“Hey, could you hold on for a minute?” I said. “Hoffman’s calling, and I promised him an update.”

I switched over. “Hey.”

“Lassgard confessed,” he said.

Adrenaline shot through me. “To the murders?”

“Not yet, but he might as well have. To stealing from the collection rooms.”

“Really,” I said suspiciously. With the kind of pressure Hoffman was under, I could see him strong-arming a fragile Ludvig into admitting something he hadn’t done.

“Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking. But the team found a vault hidden in the back of his closet. They blew it open, and it was packed with old explorer crap. A couple still had tags from the club: a journal and compass.”

“Any older artifacts?” I asked. “Like something you’d find in an archeological dig?”

“The team didn’t report anything like that, but if he’s got it, he’ll tell me.” Hoffman let out a gruff chuckle. “The kid’s scared shitless. He’s singing up a storm.”

“Did he say why he called Walter Mims?”

“Don’t worry. I’m working up to that.”

“Wait for me,” I said. “I’m heading there now.”

I switched back to Vega and filled her in on the development.

“Do you think it’s him?” she asked.

“It looks bad, but if Ludvig can travel to the shadow present, I don’t think he’d