Page 75 of Shield of Fire

“Who was the king of the Titans and the god of time,” Eljin said to me, “and not to be confused with the god Khronos, although the two are often depicted as one and the same.”

“And who might Khronos be when he’s home?” I asked when he didn’t go on.

“An incorporeal god who is apparently serpentine in form but possessing of three heads—that of a man, a bull, and a lion. He and his consort”—he paused and glanced down at the scroll—“Ananke emerged with a primordial world-egg in their coils and split it apart to form the ordered universe of earth, sea, and sky.”

“Fascinating,” I said.

He smiled. “It actually is, you know.”

“Which is why you and Lugh studied this stuff, and I did not. Does it mention any other gods in relation to old father time?”

“Some.” Lugh grimaced. “But if Kaitlyn said Loudon’s scroll only contained a mention of the shield, it means we’ll have to read every single one of them. Unless, of course, we get lucky early on.”

And when had that ever happened? “Then, as I said, write down the words I need to look for. If I find anything that matches, I’ll hand them over.”

He nodded, pulled the notepad closer, and began writing. Eljin continued reading the scroll.

“No mention of Hephaestus, his shield, the rubies, or even the harpe.” He carefully rolled the scroll back up. “I was hoping the one on top would be the last scroll Gannon had purchased. It would have made our task so much easier.”

“Our luck never runs that way,” I said.

He smiled. “It’s possible my natural good fortune will counter your streak of ill-fortune.”

“You’d have to use up a lifetime’s supply before that ever happened.” I carefully plucked another scroll from the box. “There’s not going to be enough room on this table for all of us to fully unroll one of these things?—”

“No,” Lugh said, “but it’s not necessary to completely unroll. Just examine them in smaller sections, rolling and unrolling as you go.”

“This really is going to take all night,” I muttered.

“Welcome to the long and often tedious life of an antiquarian,” Lugh said, and slid the note my way. “Have at it, sister mine.”

I sighed in mock-heaviness, then turned the note around so I could see the words I needed to look for and got down to work.

There was little conversation for the next few hours. Although we didn’t take a break—other than the occasional pit stop to the bathroom—we’d still only gotten through three scrolls when a chime echoed in the room above.

“That’s the doorbell,” Lugh said, and glanced at the time. “Good grief, it’s close to seven.”

“No wonder I’m starving.” I pushed upright and stretched my back muscles. “Let’s hope it’s Mathi, and that he arrives with pizza.”

Lugh waved a hand toward the stairs. “If the man bears pizza, you had best get up there before said pizza gets sodden and inedible.”

“I don’t suppose there’s a good red to be had in this establishment?” Eljin rubbed the back of his neck wearily, but his gaze found mine, and devilment danced. “It’d certainly go a long way to lubricating mind and body for the next round. Although a good shoulder massage wouldn’t go astray either.”

I grinned. “If it’s a mutual massage, and we’re both naked, that might be a possibility.”

“There will be no nakedness in the basement either,” Lugh said, tone dry.

I snorted and raced upstairs to rescue our pizza.

“About time,” Mathi grumbled when I opened the door. “The food isn’t the only damn thing getting wet out here. Lugh needs to put up a veranda or something if he’s not going to answer the door in a timely manner.”

“Bad day at the office, I take it?”

I retrieved the sodden pizza boxes, then stepped aside as he picked up two plastic bags—one filled with take-out containers and the other with a couple bottles of wine.

“Indeed. We lost a contract to a competitor whose products and production capabilities are not the quality of ours. Questions were asked as to why.”

“They blamed you?”

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