“It’s incredible.”
“It really, really is. Where did Blythe-Bickman get it?”
“Dr. Abel said was stolen from a church in the Tigray region in the 1920s, along with three other manuscripts by a different scribe. One of the Blythe-Bickmans bought it from the original thief, and it was absorbed into the family collection.”
“Why is it in San Francisco?”
“I believe they were looking at a possible sale at one point,” Tenzin said, watching Ben carefully wrap the manuscript in the paper sleeve he’d created. “That’s when Dr. Abel was consulted. He realized what it might be and called Lucien.”
“Fuckers.” Ben finished wrapping the book, then slipped it into a silk bag taken from Beatrice and Giovanni’s library. “I’m trying not to get nervous. If I mess this thing up—”
“Several different vampires and at least one human scholar will hunt you down,” Tenzin said. “Okay, you finish this and I’m going to go mess up Trevor’s sheets so he knows we had a fabulous night of passion.” She motioned to the rest of the glass cases. “Can you open the rest of these for me?”
Ben smiled. “Ready to go shopping, Tiny?”
She grinned. “You know me too well.”
10
They were sitting in Giovanni and Beatrice’s library, watching as Lucien Thrax examined the book his long-dead sister had decorated with her art.
His eyes were old and sad. “It’s almost as if I can see Desta working on it. The way she held her brush. The bottles of pigments and seeds and flowers she kept on her work table…” He reached for his mate’s hand and knit their fingers together.
Makeda leaned down to examine the book. “They still make paints the same way.” She glanced at Ben. “Did you know that? The churches in Ethiopia still make paints from the same flowers, minerals, and other ingredients that they’ve used for centuries. The colors hold up.”
Ben cleared his throat and tried to speak normally, which was difficult when you felt like you were in the presence of vampire royalty. “I didn’t know that. It’s incredibly well preserved. The illuminations look nearly brand-new. At least we can say that about the Blythe-Bickmans. They preserved the book well.”
Lucien muttered, “The Garima Gospels have been stored in a stone church for the same amount of time, and they look just as good.”
Makeda squeezed his shoulder. “At least it was kept intact. So many of our treasures have been lost. It’s inspiring to see this one has survived.”
Makeda Abel was a geneticist and Lucien’s mate. She had been born in Addis Ababa but raised in the Pacific Northwest. Lucien and Makeda had a wary but respectful relationship with Lucien’s mother, but they didn’t spend much time with her.
Ben had met Saba and was always struck by her “otherness.” She was the most beautiful—and most inhuman—vampire he’d ever come in contact with. And that was actually saying something considering the cast of characters who passed through his life.
Giovanni, always the official one, stepped closer. “So you are confirming that this book is the work of your sister Desta?”
“It is.” He gently touched the corner. “I thought everything had been destroyed after her death.” Lucien looked at Ben. “Do you know my sister’s story?”
Ben glanced at Tenzin, but he couldn’t read her expression. “I don’t. I only know that she was killed.”
“By a king of Aksum,” Lucien said. “The dynasty that ruled Ethiopia for centuries. This prince, he loved her and she loved him. But when he realized who she was—what she was—his love died. He captured her in her day sleep, though she trusted him, and threw her into the sun.” Lucien’s eyes looked like wells of sorrow. “She burned, betrayed by the prince she had trusted. And my mother… went a little crazy.”
Makeda put her hand on Lucien’s shoulder. “In Ethiopia, even now, there are stories about the warrior queen, Yodit, who destroyed the Aksumite dynasty and ruled over the country for decades. She razed palaces and burned churches—”
“I still believe that was Arosh,” Lucien said. “But it could have been either of them. My mother blamed the priests for Desta’s death. She imagined they were the ones who told the prince to kill her daughter because she was a demon.” Lucien shook his head. “We have no idea if that was true or not, of course. My mother has made her peace with Christianity now, but she still holds to no human faith.”
Makeda said, “After a period of time, Yodit abandoned the throne and the Zagwe dynasty rose, but not before Yodit had thoroughly plundered the Aksumite treasuries.”
Lucien added, “My mother gained an enormous amount of wealth in that period. There were many regional lords paying her tribute.”
Ben’s ears perked up when he heard the word tribute.
“So it’s possible that Saba did hold the bone scroll at some point?” He asked. “You agree with Tenzin?”
Lucien shook his head. “I don’t agree with Tenzin, because I don’t think it actually exists.”
“My father says it does,” Tenzin said. “My father does not lie.”
“Your father could be mistaken,” Lucien said.
“The Manichaean he met was clear. He’d been instructed to take the scroll to the emperors of Aksum to be kept safe and for translation. It was written in an unknown language, but even so, they knew it was an object of power. They wanted to store it with the Ark.”
“The Ark of the Covenant?” Ben asked.
Tenzin rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”
“So if it was taken to the emperor, it’s possible Arosh does have it,” Ben said. “Your father said he was in Aksum.”
“I don’t think the scroll stayed in Aksum,” Tenzin said. “And neither did the Ark. Many people don’t realize that the Ark moved around the country. It went south; it went north. It was hidden in many places before the church of Mary where it is today.”
Beatrice spoke up. “I always thought the Ark of the Covenant was in a government warehouse.” She looked at Giovanni. “Top. Men.”
Ben and Giovanni smiled. “You’re ridiculous,” Giovanni said. “But Tenzin is right. There are several different junctures where the bone scroll could have been separated from the Ark.”
“But you’re going to try to find it?” Makeda asked. “Where are you going to start?”
“Addis,” Ben said. “We have reason to believe that this manuscript isn’t the only artifact from Desta that we can use to placate your mother.” Ben exchanged a look with Tenzin, who gave him a small nod. “Tenzin and I have sent feelers out with several dealers and traders we work with. One came back with an intriguing prospect.”
“Which is?”
“We think that Desta’s crown has survived.”
Lucien’s eyebrows went up. “Really?”
“We’re not positive, but if we could get it, do you think that Saba might be willing to let the bone scroll leave her territory without causing a major international vampire incident?”