“Sabine, what did you do last night?” Lydia asked.
Sabine nearly choked on her food. She coughed and took a sip of tea.
Max set his newspaper down. “We went to the King’s Library. Found yet another riddle to be solved,” he said.
“Indeed,” Agnes said. “And have you solved it?”
“Nearly,” Max said.
Sabine recovered enough to speak. “The riddle told us we needed to look at what was right in front of us. Something like that.” She glanced at Max. “Perhaps we need to go back to the library, stand near the tablet, and see what it could possibly mean.”
“To see what was right before you?” Agnes asked.
“Something similar,” Max said. “The library.” He frowned. “No, that won’t work.”
“Of course not,” Sabine said as realization hit her. “That tablet was found elsewhere. Foolish.” She shook her head.
“This riddle business isn’t easy,” Calliope soothed. “It is more a job for the Seer,” she said, then her eyes widened as she remembered Max sat at the table.
Sabine shook her head. “It matters not, he knows everything,” she said.
Lydia’s expression tightened. Sabine knew her eldest aunt was angry, but that could not be helped. The truth was, Max had assisted them, saved them really, and kept them protected. She owed him much. They all did.
“Only two more days until your birthday,” Agnes said.
They were running out of time.
“During the Crusades. That’s when the tablet was discovered on the Isle of Rhodes,” Max said, redirecting the conversation back to the clue. He stood. “And I can think of only one other important piece that was found right there with it.” He flashed Sabine a smile. “Achilles’ sword.”
The huge manor sat prominently in Hyde Park. With a recent façade of Bath stone, the three-storied house was grand and ostentatious.
“Who lives here?” Sabine whispered to Max. She held up her skirts as they climbed the stairs to the large estate. Earlier that day, Max had come home with a gown for her to wear to this ball, a stunning dress he’d selected just for her. It was a startling bright-blue silk accented with darker-blue velvet trim, and cut perfectly for her frame.
“The late Duke of Camden. Now his widow primarily resides here,” Max said. “I should warn you”—Max leaned close to her ear—“this isn’t your ordinary ball.”
She wasn’t certain what he meant because she’d never been to any ball before. It was on her tongue to ask, but they, along with several other guests, were met at the front door by a footman. “The Marquess of Lindberg and guest,” Max said to the man, who then announced their entrance to the entire crowd. The entryway was enormous, and the ceiling seemed to reach into the heavens. Candles and petite roses surrounded the area.
“Maxwell, what a surprise. I did not realize you were planning to attend.” It was a woman, middle-aged, with a thick head of red hair piled on top in a crown of curls. Her low-plunging gown revealed a more-than-ample bosom, and sitting right at the top of that deep crevice was a huge pink diamond necklace.
Max bent over her hand in an unexpected display of gallantry. “My response must have gotten lost in the post,” Max said with a wicked grin.
“Indeed,” the woman remarked, her own smile full of wit and charm.
“Might I introduce you to Miss Sabine Tobias,” Max said. “She and her aunts are relatively new to London, and we’ve recently become acquainted.” Innuendo seemed to linger with his last word. Then he turned to Sabine. “The Duchess of Camden.”
Sabine thought to correct him and further explain their relationship, but how many people would find it less offensive (if not unbelievable) for them to be embroiled in an ancient prophecy rather than a common liaison? So she said nothing other than to exchange pleasantries with the duchess.
“Welcome. Come in and enjoy yourselves,” the woman said. Then she turned to greet other guests.
As Max led Sabine off, he pulled her close to his side. “Her late husband was an avid antiquities collector. He bragged often about securing Achilles’ sword. Now we only have to locate it.”
They walked arm in arm through the foyer. Halfway to the ballroom, they’d already passed two swords on display, hanging high on the walls. “How will we know which one it is?” Sabine asked.
Max nodded to a couple as they passed by, but waited until they were out of earshot before answering. “It is rumored to be rather large and ornate. Forged by the gods, they say,” Max said with a smile.
“Yes, of course.” She shouldn’t snicker. Didn’t she believe that the elixir she protected had been somehow handed to the Atlanteans by Poseidon himself? In actuality, she hadn’t ever given it much thought.
The ballroom was empty, not of people, but of any weaponry. That was probably a good thing, considering how much champagne was floating about. It would be most disastrous if two gentlemen were to be angered by each other; having weapons handy could have dastardly results.