FORTY-TWO

October 1946

Dubnik Mine, Czechoslovakia

    Flora slept wrapped around the barrels of gold and boxes of papers in her tent. Major Ned Callaghan and Dieter slept in the other. She had been listening to their snores for the past few hours.

    It wasn’t their snores keeping her awake; it was her own anticipation. By tomorrow night the gold would be safely stashed, out of the reach of Goering, the Nazis, and Soul Identity.

    Dealing with the gold seemed to make some people happy. Goering was willing to swallow cyanide, thrilled that his next self would retrieve it from the depositary. Archibald was satisfied that its deposit into the Soul Identity vaults would boost his career. Baba had earned their move to America because of it. And by helping her steal it, Major Callaghan had settled his debt with her grandfather.

    The gold didn’t bring everybody happiness, of course. It had its victims. James certainly hadn’t benefited from it, and neither did Flora’s father, nor the other Jews and Gypsies killed in the camps.

    And what about herself? Flora had thwarted its deposit into Goering’s soul line collection, but the gold hadn’t yet brought her any peace. She couldn’t begin to imagine what damage she had done to her soul with the acts she had committed bringing it this far. The SS leader and his soldier, James, Private Lee and his girlfriend, Archibald-she had used and tricked and hurt them all.

    And for what gain? Just to bury the gold? Would she ever be able to retrieve it? Would she be wise enough to return it to the victims? Would she be strong enough?

    In the early hours of the morning, before Goering’s barrels and boxes even went into the mine, while listening to the wood crackle in the fire and the men snore in their tent, Flora resolved that she would get the gold out. She would make sure it found its way into the hands of the victims’ families. She would do this, or she would die trying.

    When dawn finally broke and she heard the others stir, she crawled out of her tent. Major Callaghan sat in front of the fire. He had placed three tins on the coals. He looked up at her. “Eat all your tucker today, Flora. You’ll need the energy.”

    Dieter came out, and the three of them finished the last of the “K” rations. Then while Dieter fed and watered the horses, Flora and Callaghan pored over the map. “It looks like Viliam Gallery is the best choice,” she said.

    “We’ll have to see it ourselves to be sure.” Callaghan rubbed his hands together. “Have you been underground before?”

    “Baba and I hid in caves for years-first from the Nazis and then from the communists.”

    “So you know what to expect.” Callaghan pulled out the lamps and a rope. “I’ll get me a look-see while you and Dieter roll in the barrels.”

    Dieter tied a rope to one of the ore cars, and during the three hours while the Major scouted the mines, they used it to bring the barrels and the boxes to the top of a stone staircase. They had just hauled the ore car up for the last time and found Callaghan sitting inside of it.

    “I have the perfect spot, Flora,” he said. “It’s a small alcove-easy for us to block up afterward.”

    “Dieter will like that part.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “He still thinks we have vampires in those boxes.”

    A grim smile broke out on Callaghan’s face. “That’ll do.”

    They spent another two hours maneuvering the twelve heavy barrels and three boxes down the staircase and into the alcove. When the last barrel stood against the wall, they rested for a few minutes.

    Dieter eyed the boxes. He spoke in German to Flora. “Why do the strigoi want to be placed here?”

    Flora shrugged. “I only do what they command,” she said. She thought for a minute. “I suppose they seek a quiet place for a long rest. That’s why they requested so much cognac.”

    The German nodded. “I had heard you should bury a bottle of whiskey next to a vampire to keep him calm. I did not know about cognac.”

    “It works even better,” she assured him. “Especially among ancient vampires like these-ones who have chosen not to come back.”

    “The Slovak soldiers told me that any vampire who hasn’t been killed after seven years can come back to another village and have a family of his own, sleeping in graves on the weekends. Is that true?”

    “I have heard the same,” Flora said. “Though some vampires, like my masters, choose a long sleep instead.”

    Dieter looked at the boxes. “Can they hear us?”

    She shrugged. “Probably. But don’t worry,” she said, “they really do want to sleep, and as long as you don’t threaten them, they’ll leave you alone.”

    His eyes grew wide. “What could threaten the vampires?”

    She pointed at the barrels. “Taking their cognac, or thinking about killing them.”

    He shook his head. “We shall not do that.”

    She smiled.

    “Are you two talking about the vampires again?” Callaghan asked.

    “Dieter wanted to know why they wished to come here.”

    “The buggers must have had their fill of German blood.” He hefted a pick. “Me bones are aching. Let’s get this corner closed up and give those bloody vampires a good rest.”

    “What will we use?” Flora asked.

    He pointed further into the cavern. “I saw a wall over yonder. We can knock it down and use its stones.”

    Callaghan led them down the cavern to the old wall. Dieter swung the pick and broke it up, Flora carried the stones, and Callaghan built a new wall by fitting them back together.

    “How can you do that without mortar?” Flora asked.

    The Major chuckled. “Many years of practice,” he said. He stood up and tapped the new wall with his cane. “The stones are well-shaped, and all it takes is a practiced eye to place them.”

    An hour later the wall was built and the alcove closed off.

    Callaghan stood back and held up his lamp. “Looks like it’s been there for a hundred years,” he said. He turned to Dieter. “Where’s my pick?”

    Dieter pointed back in the cavern, and the Major limped over to the old alcove. When he didn’t return right away, Flora called, “Major? Is everything okay?”

    “Flora, come back here.” Callaghan’s voice was high-pitched.

    Was he all right? She grabbed her light and hustled to the back of the cavern. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

    Callaghan stood inside the alcove where the old wall had been. He held his lantern close to the ground. The light shone on a wooden trap door built into the floor. “This is it,” he said.

    “This is what?” she asked.

    “The shaft Raddy told me about.”

    She felt her stomach lurch. “Where they ate the little boy?”

    “Where they found the opal nest.” He knelt down and pulled on the ring attached to the door. “It’s stuck. Where’s the map?”

    “In my tent.”

    He frowned. “I must see it straight away.”

    Back on the surface, Flora and Dieter stood looking over Callaghan’s shoulder as he pointed on the map. “It’s the shaft your grandfather told me about,” the Major said.

    “How can you be sure?” she asked.

    “Because until the Great War came along, I listened to that bloody ghost story every Easter, Christmas, and Melbourne Cup.” He stabbed at the map with his index finger. “And each time Raddy told it, he led me over to this map, tapped right here on this smudged spot, and swore he’d come back one day.”

    She said nothing, afraid of what he might suggest.

    Callaghan looked at Dieter. “There’s opals down there, me boy. Opals the size of apples, ripe for the picking.”

    Dieter smiled and nodded.

    “Down there or not,” she said, “we’ve got to leave first thing in the morning if we’re going to make the Bratislava train and meet the captain.”

    “Flora, you can buy that train with your share of the eggs from our nest of opals,” Callaghan said.

    “It’s a legend, Major. A story. You said so yourself.” She said this slowly, and she tried to keep the emotion out of her voice.

    He shrugged. “Legend or not, them opals are calling me. I can’t leave here without at least seeing if old Raddy was right.” He peered back at the map.

    She took a deep breath. “I can’t miss the train, or the boat, Major. Baba needs me, and I have to get back.” She raised her voice just a little. “She’s Raddy’s wife-remember?”

    Callaghan’s head jerked up. “Of course I remember,” he snapped. “It’s just…” He paused for a moment. “Please, Flora. I need to look for that opal nest. I can’t spend the rest of me days wondering if I missed the opportunity of a lifetime.”

    She knew the decision was hers; Ned Callaghan was duty-bound to help her get back to Paris. But Flora also knew she owed him, because she could never have gotten the gold this far without his help.

    She needed to rendezvous with Baba, James, and Archibald Morgan in only five and a half days. No matter how important the opal nest was to the Major, she was determined to start their return in the morning.

    That left only one solution. She stood up. “Okay, Major. Let’s find your opal nest.”

    He got up. “You’ll delay our return?”

    “No.” And when he frowned, she added, “We will look tonight-but we will leave in the morning.”

    He stared at her, then he slapped his hands on his knees and smiled. “I reckon we’ll have to dig fast. Dieter, get the picks.”