Anat nodded. “Yes. The other is very small. I don’t know how it got to be in France.”
“Clearly, it meant enough to Amir to risk getting it from your home before he left and taking it with him when he was fleeing to France. How did he get to France?” Czar asked.
“We had friends,” Anat said. “I had him smuggled out of the country, although I never revealed his identity to anyone.”
“He took the portal, just as you took the drawing, because it was what Horus and Ken created,” Savage said, his voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Anat. It’s human to want to keep something because it holds memories for you.”
Player exchanged a long look with Zyah. She knew things about the others that most people would never know, but she also saw moments like this one. Savage had so much good in him. Player, like all the members of Torpedo Ink, was terrified of losing him. Terrified he would ride over a cliff one day. Savage thought of himself as a monster, but seeing him with Anat, it was impossible to view him that way.
“Amir was so upset and didn’t want to give up me or Zyah,” Anat said. “He felt guilty at taking the money. And he was alone without us. He felt like, as the only man left in the family, it was his duty and right to protect us. It was a hard time for us both. I insisted he couldn’t contact me and that I couldn’t contact him. I would do anything to keep him safe. As the years went by, he contacted me via email, and we were still careful, setting up a formal way to make certain we knew the other one was safe. He had a Facebook with pictures of his family. I did the same so I could share pictures of Zyah.”
“Perhaps it’s time to open the portal and talk with him,” Player said. “We need to make certain he’s on the same page.” He had felt the absolute malevolence directed at Zyah and him. It was possible Amir hadn’t recognized Zyah in the murkiness of the portal. Player had been the one facing him. There was no mistaking the waves of black anger pouring off the man in that portal. Player had known the stranger intended to find them and either kill them or use them for his own dark purposes.
“Yes.” Anat couldn’t suppress the eagerness in her voice. “Please do.”
Czar waved the others back out of sight of the frame. “Leave Anat, Player and Zyah there for the moment. I want to be certain this man is going to cooperate with whatever Anat wants. Anat, can he pass anything through the portal to you?”
Anat frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Clearly, the bomb can be passed through the portal. Can Amir pass a bomb to us?”
“No, nothing can go from his side to our side. It’s merely a means to communicate. The only thing that can go from our side out is the bomb. And the bomb is made to go through the portal. It was an experiment, like in the Jules Verne novels. The impossible that is improbable that becomes illusion and then reality.”
Player looked over Anat’s head to Czar. “Anat, did Horus have psychic talents? Was he able to build illusions and hold them?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes. He was very good at them, but if he held them too long, he would get terrible headaches and his illusions could become an alternate reality. That was very dangerous. He had to be careful. I know that sounds crazy, but it was our world. I could help him when that happened.”
Zyah slipped her hand into Player’s. “We understand, Mama Anat. We’re going to open the portal now.” She turned into Player’s body, sliding her arms up his chest and winding them around his neck. “He was like you,” she whispered. “That’s why we can open it. He had a lot of your talents. And I have many of Mama Anat’s.”
Her mouth brushed over his lips. Little strokes of desire sending fiery darts through Player’s bloodstream. It was difficult to keep his eyes open and focused on the frame, observing the way the etchings deepened into a full-blown scroll and then began to roll. He heard someone make a sound of shock, and then there was silence again.
Zyah’s mouth moved on his. Her tongue traced the seam of his lips, and he opened, unable to do anything else. The tip of her tongue felt like a flame. The moment she kissed him, he was kissing her. The fire raced between them, hot and wild. No holding back. They always tried, but it seemed like a wildfire that just roared out of control.
Player tightened his arms around her but forced his eyes to stay open when he only wanted to keep his focus on his woman. The frame spun, moving faster and faster. The drawing itself receded into utter darkness, a black hole. The tension in the shed rose, stretched out until it felt as if any moment a hole could be torn in the atmosphere itself.