Rhea trudged through the cemetery, concentrating on getting through the mist and graves without sliding in the mud and dropping the umbrella. As she crested the small hill, she saw a short line of taxis waiting on the curb.
“Andrew… thank you!" Rhea sighed gratefully.
Approaching the line of cars, Rhea saw a familiar face.
“Edwin! It's nice to see you again. Can I get a ride to my hotel?"
“Hello there," the friendly cabbie greeted her. “Climb in and get out of this weather!"
Their conversation was light and cheerful, even though Edwin had to carefully navigate the narrow roads in a heavy mist.
“Ah, you better stay inside tonight," the brown eyes of the cabbie suddenly looked concerned.
“What do you mean?" Rhea asked. “Is the weather supposed to get worse?"
Edwin gave a slight shrug, “The weather is the least of your worries…if you are going to live here, you will have to believe in more than what you can see."
Rhea looked at the driver but didn't question him further as they pulled up to the hotel. Thanking Edwin, and giving him a healthy tip, Rhea got out of the cab and went to her room. Her clothes had not yet been found, leaving her to wash her current clothes in the tub and hang them to dry for the next day.
After getting to work the following morning, thanks to Edwin, who had taken it upon himself to be Rhea's transport until she was comfortable in town, Rhea casually retold the events of crossing the street the afternoon before to her new friends.
“You must be kidding," Andrew looked up stunned. “He actually had a conversation with you?"
“Well, he let me borrow his umbrella," Rhea reasoned. “That's hardly a conversation."
“It's a major breakthrough," laughed Stephen. “Mr. Mordhas has avoided us for a while now, since we tried to get him to let us do a dig on his land."
“Oh? Why do you want to have a dig there?" Rhea stacked up a pile of books to take back to the Cathedral's main library.
“Well," Andrew paused in his cataloging. “The Mordhas family was one of the important families in this town for a couple of centuries. They assisted in the building of the cathedral and other important places. They started a craft guild, which over the years became a weaving company, and eventually turned into an investment company."
“So, why do we need to keep researching?" Rhea asked her friends, still staring at the books. “If his family has been here for a while, there should be lots of information available."
“The Mordhas family, although well-liked, had their share of drama and mystery," Stephen shrugged. “We keep hoping to find some little piece of information or artifact to put the puzzle together."
Rhea paused, casting a questioning look at Elisa.
“Family drama puzzle...like what happened to the youngest son," Andrew added. “Or why the family land was suddenly in someone else's name and split up. Why was some land surrendered to the church?"
“We look forward to having your new eyes, and fresh brain to help us think of things we may have missed," Elisa smiled. “By the way, we get to read the protected documents in the cathedral's special collection now. Hoffman got us clearance."
“Exciting!"
With her head full of swirling thoughts, Rhea gathered her stack of books and documents and trudged across the courtyard to the library.
Struggling with the door, Rhea finally tripped her way into the small, dim library. She began the effort of locating the right place for each of the returned texts, which was no easy task.
“Who labeled this stuff?" Rhea asked out loud.
As she struggled to place a book on one of the top shelves, she heard a man's concerned voice.
“Do you want the stool?"
Arras Mordhas, owner of the investment company next door, was standing at the end of the aisle with a plastic, white stool in his hand. His dark eyes stood out on his narrow, yet masculine face, with black hair brushed into a smooth and professional style. Rhea noticed his sleeves were rolled on the white dress shirt, revealing slender, yet muscular arms. The dark vest proved to be an eye-catching finishing touch for Mordhas' executive look.
“Oh! Mr. Mordhas," Rhea blushed, almost dropping the book. “Uh, sure. I could use that stool if you are done with it."
Without a word, Mordhas approached and put the stool down. He looked up at the shelf. Before Rhea could step on the stool, he reached out and took the book from her hands.
Her eyes fell to a faint tattoo on the inside of his forearm. Elegant in design, the tattoo was of a lion tangled in a knotted rope. She watched as the arm with the tattoo lifted the book and easily slid it into place.
“Thank you, Mr. Mordhas," Rhea said gratefully. “Much appreciated."
Mordhas moved away and looked at a green book with gold lettering on the binding.
“With the amount of books you've returned in the past couple of days, you must be looking for something important," Mordhas noted as he moved down the shelves. “May I ask what you are researching?"
“I'm a new hire, so I'm mostly doing simple jobs like returning books," Rhea shrugged. “Right now, however, the company has several documents and artifacts from a nearby dig. There are quite a few artifacts that are directly related to several original families of the city. Including a family with the same last name as you."
Mordhas blinked, and Rhea thought he looked exhausted.
“Ah…yes, my ancestors. I have been doing my own family research for quite some time now, so many questions," Mordhas eyed the book-filled shelves. “I have gone over every single book and piece of paper near and far, and still have not found what I am looking for."
“Have you gone over to the cathedral itself?" asked Rhea. “They have a collection of documents there."
Mordhas looked over at the door, “I…don't have access."
The businessman sounded bitter and frustrated, and Rhea felt a sympathetic pang in her heart.
“Maybe we can work something out," she suggested. “I'm sure I can share documents with you, since I am here every weekday. The company I work for is a research and archeological company after all."
Something flickered in the dark eyes of Arras Mordhas.
“You would do that for me?"
Rhea shrugged, “I don't see why not. My company is searching for answers about your ancestors as well. It may be an idea to join forces, share our information, and perhaps solve all our questions."
Mordhas suddenly looked wary, “Are you going to ask to dig up my family land and make up some story about my…ancestors?"
Rhea frowned, “I was thinking you would be able to have contact with artifacts that belonged to your ancestors. Very few people have that chance to come face to face with artifacts and documents of their family's past."
He paced, agitated, along the shelves, “Your company has bothered me for several years now."
“I know it sounds like an invasion of privacy," Rhea said calmly, pausing as Mordhas' dark eyes locked onto hers. They were of the deepest blue and she found it hard to concentrate on anything else. Even in the warm library, his shirt collar was buttoned up snuggly. He stared at her.
“Mr. Mordhas, the company has the deepest respect for you and your ancestors," Rhea snapped her eyes back to the book in her hands, “The company also has a variety of technology and experts at our disposal. Since you and Hoffman's company are both looking for similar answers, joining together may just be the answer everyone needs."
“You may call me Arras," Mordhas began to unfold the sleeves of his shirt. Looking up, he caught Rhea's gaze. Silence fell in the library and Arras slowly lifted an eyebrow. “And your name is…"
Rhea snapped to attention, “Oh, I'm Rhea, Rhea Thorne."
Turning away, the owner of the Mordhas Investment Company headed down the dim hall towards the library's heavy, oak door.
Rhea turned to place her last book on the shelf and quickly walked to catch up with Arras.
“It was nice to meet you…" her voice faded into silence.
The hall was empty.