Free The Keep of Fire by Mark Anthony Page B

our lives in ways our senses can’t. In some ways, myths are
more
real than the world we see, not less.”
    Farr crushed out his cigarette in a rusted sardine tin. “Over the last several months, there has been an epidemic of these new cases of spontaneous combustion. Some in our organization believe they might be related to the current heat wave on this continent. Some have … other ideas. Regardless, right now the outbreak is largely unknown to the public. But that might soon change.”
    “Why?” Travis said, not sure he wanted to know.
    Farr’s expression was grim. “Just last week I watched a man in a Kansas City hospital burning, even as the doctors there tried to save him. His case was atypical in that, for several hours after the immolation, he survived.”
    Travis pressed his eyes shut. No, he had notwanted to know this. He forced his eyes back open. “What … what did he …?”
    “What did he become?” Farr shook his head. “I’m not certain. However, the hospital’s tests will certainly reveal what our own studies have. It is only a matter of time before this story is more widely known. But to answer your question: Toward the end, before he ceased, his flesh was the color and texture of basalt, and when a nurse attempted to give him an injection, witnesses say that he touched her, and she caught on fire. She’s in an intensive care unit at the moment. The doctors doubt she will survive.”
    Travis swallowed hot bile. “So what does this have to do with me?”
    “Nothing, or so we thought,” Farr said. “We did not think these incidents were related to your case. And they still might not be. But one thing I have learned over the years is to seek connection in coincidence.”
    Something was wrong—something beyond the Seekers, beyond the immolations. “But if you didn’t come to Castle City because of the burnt people, why did you come?”
    Farr glanced at Deirdre. “I think you might do a better job here.”
    Deirdre perched on the corner of the seat next to Travis. “You say you’ve spoken to Dr. Beckett. That means you know what happened to her last fall at Denver Memorial Hospital, when—”
    “—when she killed one ironheart, and Hadrian helped her escape another at the Denver police station.” He knew it was wrong to enjoy the surprised looks on their faces, but he did all the same.
    Deirdre gave a slow nod. “I imagine Grace told you the Seekers were interested in her experiences. After the incident at the police station, we tried to regain contact with her, but we failed. The car we had given her was found abandoned just outside Castle City. Inthe time since we’ve tried to discover where she went next.”
    “It’s a world called Eldh,” Travis said quietly.
    He could see both Deirdre and Farr tense as they exchanged looks. Deirdre started to lift a hand. Farr gave a slight shake of his head, and she nodded.
    “Here,” Farr said as he took another photo from the envelope. “I want you to look at something else.”
    Travis took the photo, afraid he would see more images of shriveled bodies. Instead it was a view looking west down Elk Street, in tones of sepia rather than Kodacolor. The muddy street was crowded with horses and wagons. Men in rumpled wool suits stood in groups, and women walked by in dark, heavy dresses.
    “This photo was taken here in Castle City in 1897,” Deirdre said. “I found it in the archives at the county library.”
    Travis squinted. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
    “Here,” Farr said, pointing to a figure in the lower left corner of the old photo. “This man.”
    The photo was blurry at the edges, but Travis could still make out an elderly, dignified gentleman in a dark jacket and waistcoat. His white beard was neatly trimmed, but his hair flew about his head, and he gazed forward with piercing eyes.
    It felt as if someone had slipped a needle into Travis’s heart. He looked up. “But that’s … that’s