Mara stayed outside until the vehicle disappeared below the bend. Even then she could follow Daniel’s presence for a little while, a quiet sense of where he was that weakened as the distance grew. Her amulet rested against her chest in Ernesto’s new frame. She drew it clear of her shirt and watched one of the smaller stones fade. Another followed, leaving the centre and two others illuminated. Lindiwe stood beside her, looking down at her own. “It feels quieter,” she said. Mara understood. Since Hertfordshire, she had grown accustomed to having the others close enough to feel without looking for them. Now she found herself listening for something that had been there all morning. Through the open doorway behind them, Elena was persuading Sal to finish his breakfast. His objection concerned the temperature of the toast, which struck Mara as a reasonable subject to be discussing while there was still toast to object to. She let the amulet settle beneath her shirt. “They’ll be back.” Lindiwe looked towards the road once more before following her inside.
Isobel had returned to the figures spread across her desk. During the briefing she had kept them in order, taking each question as it came. Alone with them again, she had begun checking a calculation she already knew was right. Mara recognised the impulse. She had done much the same with Daniel’s bag before he left, checking a fastening that had never been loose. “Anything changed?” Isobel looked up. “No.” She said it with such care that Mara wished she had asked something else. Lindiwe came to stand beside the desk. Across the room, a printer was feeding out another sheet. There were ordinary sounds everywhere: a telephone ringing in the adjoining office, footsteps in the corridor, Ernesto opening a cupboard and failing to find whatever he wanted. Then the figures vanished from Isobel’s screen. She reached for the keyboard, but stopped before touching it. A single line appeared. Time is short. Recover the remaining pair. Return with six. Connection awaits. Mara moved closer. She read it twice, although there was nothing difficult about the words. Isobel took a sheet from beside the keyboard and began copying them. “This is what you meant by the ghost?”
“Yes.”
Until now, Mara had understood that as Isobel’s name for the strange behaviour of the equipment. Someone helping from a distance, perhaps, or an interference none of the staff could trace. The message made that explanation harder to keep simple. It knew about the missing pair. Lindiwe rested her fingertips against the back of Isobel’s chair. “Has it asked for all six before?” Isobel opened the notebook beside her and turned back several pages. There, beneath a set of plotted points, was the earlier message. Connection requires the six, bearing their own. Creation strongest at this site. Mara looked from the page to the screen. The wording had seemed obscure when it reached England. Standing here, with three of them already on their way to recover the last two amulets, it felt uncomfortably precise. “Can you answer?” “I’ve tried.” Isobel drew the keyboard towards her. “Sometimes nothing happens.” She opened the place where she had previously entered questions and typed slowly enough for them both to read. Who are you? The cursor blinked at the end of the sentence. Ernesto appeared in the doorway carrying a small box of fittings. He noticed their silence and set it down without asking what had happened. For several seconds the screen remained unchanged. Isobel kept her hands in her lap. Mara found herself watching the doorway, as though whoever answered might enter by it. The reply appeared beneath the question. My watch spans centuries. Systems fail. Your strength and authority can prevent destruction. Lindiwe leaned forward slightly. Mara read the words again, catching on my watch. She thought of Vale, of Leyla’s house in Istanbul and the people who had spent their lives protecting objects they could barely explain. There had been rooms beneath that house older than the organisation’s present knowledge. Perhaps something had survived outside it. Perhaps someone had. Behind her, Lucía entered with Elena and Sal. The boy came straight to his mother’s side when he saw the screen, and Elena rested a hand on his shoulder. “Is that from Istanbul?” Lucía asked. “We don’t know,” Isobel said. Lucía approached the desk. Mara watched her expression as she read, hoping for recognition. There was none.
“Have you heard anything like it?” Lucía shook her head.
“But you could ask Leyla.” “Yes.” The offer brought some relief. There was at least someone to ask, a person who could read these words and compare them with more than the few weeks Mara had lived through. Lindiwe remained beside Isobel, studying the reply. “It says it has protected us.” “It says it has kept watch,” Mara said. Lindiwe glanced at her, then returned to the screen. The distinction mattered, though neither of them yet knew why. Isobel reached for the keyboard again. “What authority do you need?” she murmured as she typed. This time they waited long enough for the printer to finish, for someone in the corridor to answer the ringing telephone, for Ernesto to put his box on an empty corner of the desk. No reply came. Eventually Isobel copied the second message beneath the first and checked every word against the screen. “I don’t know whether it can’t answer or doesn’t want to.” Mara looked towards the window. From here she could see only a section of the slope and the hard blue sky beyond it. Daniel was somewhere below, following a direction he could feel towards something none of them had yet seen. She wanted to tell him. She also wanted him to keep his attention on the ground beneath his feet. “We should send the words to Leyla,” she said. “Exactly as they are.” Lucía took the paper Isobel offered her and went to find a telephone. Sal had been quiet throughout. Now he looked up at his mother. “Does it need us?” Elena’s hand tightened a little on his shoulder. Mara turned from the window. “I think it’s asking for our help.” The boy considered that, then looked back at the unanswered question on the screen. So did Mara. It was asking for their help. Before they gave it what it wanted, she intended to know whose voice they had been listening to.