The Holy Land

Chapter 2:

Chapter 2:

I guess Doyle was right, Helena thought. She woke with a jolt. It took her a moment to remember where she was: her cabin. In her mind, the time on the net, in the Land of Immortals, and now in her bed all merged into one. She had a serious problem with finding reality. Her covers lay in a mess, all wadded up as if there was a body buried under them.

Her upper lip was moist from heat or passion, she wasn’t sure. What did I do last night? With the greatest care possible, she probed the covers, her breath held so as not to make a sound. When she found herself alone, her groan of relief was probably heard on the main deck, but she didn’t care.

A fire for Doyle still burned in her heart, and she couldn’t bring herself to admit she was sorry they didn’t spend the night together like she feared. In frustration, she slapped both her hands down on the mattress. The action did little to help.

Was the kiss even real? Did it happen in the Land of Immortals, the mundane world, or did she dream the whole thing? Would Doyle even remember it? Her mind flooded with the possibilities and ramifications of her action. Besides time, she had a new problem to weigh on her soul: the different dimensions she traveled and what was real. She needed to make a choice which to believe.

The loss of control over her emotions frightened her, nearly as much as her dimension shifts and time travel. Unsure how long they spent with the Immortals… she was positive it would be a cold day in hell before she took Doyle there again, for both their sakes.

Semi-composed she glanced out the window of her stateroom and discovered the airships had landed. By the way the crew moved about, some time ago. They had tied off to a stand of abandoned olive trees.

It was easy to spot the Russian crew already out working hard to harvest wood for fuel. Helena shook her head. One more island would be devoid of trees before too long. Humans were becoming modern day locusts, a plague of biblical proportions stripping all before them.

Mister Wizard and Helena would be doing the same thing if not for the magical Smithy Stone and the unlimited heat it gave the Legend. Even the lift for the ship came from Legendary Creatures that liked to be called Angels.

In her journal, Helena’s mother spent countless passages warning about the dangers of combining magic with technology, like her father wanted to do. Helena wasn’t as sure as her mother. From what she could see, the responsible use of both magic and technology—and as much as she hated to admit it, religion—would be the only way to keep the human race from killing itself off.

No amount of being in the moment would save her if the air was turned to smoke and there was nothing green left on the planet.

She had overslept, that was for sure. She’d spent too much time considering the future. Now it was time to gather a few people and plan the next step. They needed information on the city of Acre and the castle that still stood there. As the next step on the Way of the Soul, this was the major port into the Holy Land. If anything was stolen from Jerusalem during the Crusades and held for safekeeping, it made sense it might be here.

She needed to keep telling herself the chances that anything remained here would be slim. This was one of the last places to leave the Christian Crusaders’ hands. The last was the Ottomans’ capital, Istanbul. The thought of sneaking into the walled city made a shiver run up Helena’s spine.

After a quick cleanup, she dressed. Still morning, she knew the day was going to be hot, hotter than she wished to think about. For now, her denim and white shirt would need to be enough. She wouldn’t burden herself with more clothes than she needed. Dressed and ready for the day, three taps came at her door as she walked to it.

Her mind and body seemed out of whack this morning. She opened the door with a little more force than was required, nearly tearing the door from the hinges.

The suddenness surprised the unflappable Count Alexei Stroganov. With the brightly colored robe he wore, he shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight that filled Helena’s room. “Can you close the drapes? The light is painful.”

Helena glanced between the count and her window before moving to pull the drapes to. “Good morning to you, too. Tell me why I’m blessed with a visit during the daylight.”

Ludmila, Alexei’s sister, had revealed why they both shunned the sun. Though Helena wasn’t sure she believed the whole Dorian Gray explanation, she had nothing else to explain their strange behavior. She still didn’t fully trust the Russians. She was certain either would betray her to reach their own goals.

The light dimmed, Alexei walked into the room. “I am here to help you plan for the next step of our search.”

“Are you now…? What makes you think I need your help?” Helena could feel the anger rise in her chest.

Alexei strolled over and sat in Helena’s mother’s large chair, one of the few pieces Helena brought from her parents’ hidden study in San Francisco. “Oh, how shall I count the ways… Spain, Italy, Greece… You have been lucky. Now we are preparing to waltz into a country that has been at war with its neighbors for the past three hundred and fifty years. And is still shooting at people on the other side.”

“I don’t see your point.” Helena saw his point, she just didn’t want to admit to him that she needed help in forming a safe plan to infiltrate the castle. She had little experience planning such an escapade, a little tutoring would not hurt.

Alexei motioned to Helena’s body while he spoke. “How long do you think a woman with such lily-white skin and red hair will survive in a land full of people with dark hair and tan skin?”

Helena had never thought of her skin color as a hindrance. “Let’s say for a moment I agree with you. What would you suggest?” Unconsciously, Helena rubbed her bare forearms.

“I suggest I leave tonight with the launch. I take a small disguised team into the city and discover what we can.” Alexei raised his arms to show off his robes. “As you can see, I have my costume already.”

“I was going to ask about that.” Helena leaned against the side of her bed.

“From time to time, I might have worked for the Romanovs to learn information… Let’s consider the activity more of a hobby.”

“You’re a spy?”

“Spy has such negative connotations. When you have lived and traveled as much as I have, you make contacts, and you learn things. It’s what I do from time to time, I’m afraid.” He steepled his fingers before his lips.

“Does your sister know?” Helena had to admit she wasn’t surprised; the globetrotting count would make a perfect cover to travel about learning the secrets needed for a country.

“We have never discussed details, but she must assume… She has been instrumental in gaining delicate information from time to time.”

“So you are only here, she is with the Legend to spy for you?” Helena found herself neither surprised nor angry. She expected a double-cross from the count.

“On the contrary. Everything I promised was the truth. We are here to share information. That is why I’m here now divulging… trusting you with a most delicate piece of information.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Would you have trusted me if I came on bended knee, begging for help with the opening line, ‘Hello, I’m a spy’? I think not. Besides, the Tsar never sent me to spy on you. Everything I told you in Bermuda was the truth.”

“So why tell me now?” Helena glanced over to where her mother’s sword lay propped against her headboard, then back at the count.

“It seemed like the time to reveal my experiences before we rush headlong into danger. We will not always be as fortunate as we were in Rhodes. That could have ended badly for all of us. I have an extended life. I endeavor to continue that life as long as possible not cut it short on a folly.”

Helena gripped the side of her bed. Not that the count talked down to her. He was simply putting into words what she had realized after the narrow escape in Greece. It didn’t make it any easier to hear her shortcomings laid out bare. “Let’s assume for a moment you are correct. What would be your plan to enter Acre?”

“Acre is an armed port in the Ottoman Empire. I assume everyone will be closely watched. I will lead a team into the city, taking my launch from this small island and mooring in the port. Over several days we will seek out what information we need, some through guile, some by bribery. We will return after the reconnoiter to determine the next step.”

“A number of times you said we and us… I assume you have decided who is best to go with you?”

“I have… but I must admit I would do this task alone best, but I thought you would never allow that. I make this as a suggested team, but the suggestion comes from my years of experience. Before you ask, I have asked all of them, and they agreed to accompany me if you agree.”

“That was mighty bold of you.” Helena crossed her arms.

“It is what I do. Do you want to hear my team?”

Helena nodded.

Alexei paused. “Myself, Phoebe, Krushna, and… Deirdre will head into the city tonight.”

Helena cleared her throat. “I can understand most of your decision, but my aunt? Her skin and hair are nearly the same color as mine.”

Alexei nodded. “I agree. However, skin and hair color can be changed. She can do two things you can’t. She can heal, and more importantly she has the skill to bend a person’s mind to her will. I found both of these skills outweigh the risk of her being discovered.”

“And not me?” Helena flexed her fingers, clutching the covers of her bed.

Alexei smiled. “A great leader recognizes the time to delegate. There are times when a leader needs to head the charge, and there are times when they need to sit back and let… cooler heads prevail.”

Helena knew the very fact she grew angry at the thought of being left behind proved the blasted Russian right. Damn him and his logic. “What do you propose I do while you are off having all the fun in Acre?” Helena tried to make light of the plan, but the conflict over this decision tore her up inside. She understood if they were to be successful finding her father and mother, she needed to delegate.

“You need to study your parents’ journals, you need to make sure the time machine is ready, and you need to be ready to come to rescue us if my plan fails. I think there is plenty left with the ships to keep your mind occupied.”

Helena couldn’t help but blush as her mind rushed to thoughts of Doyle and the time they would be spending together, not alone per se but with fewer eyes watching them. Helena cleared her throat to clear her mind. “I’m not sure there is much we can do if you’re captured.”

“Sure there is. Enlist your fey friends and come to the rescue. From what I’ve seen, you are very capable. You just need to plan a little more. When it comes to rushing headlong into danger, I can think of no one I would rather have come to rescue me.” Alexei chuckled at his joke, relaxing Helena slightly.

“What you’re saying is I should do what I do best. Make rash, impulsive decisions and let my luck save the day?”

“I don’t think I said that, but if that was what you inferred, I will accept your personal analysis of your abilities.” Before Helena deciphered his double talk, Alexei slapped his hands on the arms of the chair and stood. “If we are in agreement, I suggest we announce the plan to the crews as a team as soon as the sun goes down.”

“What of your launch? It looks like we are some distance from the water.”

“All will be fine. Now I must go see Ludmila and tell her of the plan. That will be the hard sell.”

“You think she will object?” Helena asked, wondering if she had just been played.

“I know she will. Long ago she got it into her head she was my protector. I think she just tries to limit the work she needs to do on our painting.” Alexei clicked his heels and stepped to the door.

Helena closed the door behind him. She mentally debated which would be worse, giving up some of the decision-making for this adventure or staying behind to deal with the ruffled feathers of the Russian countess. Neither was palatable. Was the situation a dilemma or a Hobson’s choice… It didn’t matter the correct term, the situation was all bull. She was certain to suffer either way.