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“A firebird,” she repeated carefully. “As in the mythical glowing creature from Slavic folklore.”

“You’d know better than I do,” Adam countered easily.

“But in the stories, it’s the feathers of the firebird that are supposed to glow.” She frowned. “And they are always illuminated unless kept concealed.”

“Maybe that’s why Dawson had to jiggle it,” Adam mused.

“He didwhat?”

“Shook it like a martini,” Adam cheerfully returned. “And then the damned thing lit up like a rocket on the Fourth of July. Jacobs used it again in the cenote.”

Ellie thought of the wild, impossible light that had glared brilliantly at her through the surface of the water.

“But the firebird is a myth,” she protested numbly.

“Yeah.” Adam’s tone was more serious.

“It’s just a story!”

“I know, Princess,” he returned quietly.

“And you’re quite certain that you… saw that correctly?” she asked, choosing the words carefully.

There was a silence in response. If Ellie had possessed a firebird bone, she was fairly certain that she would have seen Adam cocking a skeptical eyebrow at her.

“Never mind,” she sighed. She pressed her fingers to her temple, where the beginning of a headache was coming on. “You saw it.”

“I saw it,” Adam confirmed.

“Even though it’s… impossible,” Ellie added.

“Guess not.”

She felt him shrug.

“This is…” Ellie let go of Adam’s hand. Taking a chance, she reached out and found the wall of the cave. She pressed her back to the stone of the tunnel wall.

She needed to feel something solid. Her whole world was shifting. That was challenging enough, even when one wasn’t also swathed in impenetrable darkness.

“This…” she began.

“…makes it look an awful lot like there’s probably other stuff like that out there,” Adam filled in flatly. “That’s what Dawson said.”

“Mythological objects,” Ellie said awkwardly. “Mythological objects that actuallydothe things they were said to do. But that’s…”

She shook her head. Her mind spun as the implication washed over her.

“There are countless stories of powerful objects scattered through the historical and mythological record,” she rattled a little wildly. “The Chi Guo Tian Wang—the Eastern King in Chinese Buddhist folklore—possessed a musical instrument that could control the weather. And then there’s the Astras of the Mahabharata—weapons of unimaginable power crafted by the gods themselves. The herbs of Asclepius could purportedly raise the dead. The Golden Fleece. The Lance of Longinus… For the love of God, in Iceland there’s even a mythical pair of undergarments that produce an endless supply of money. If… If even afractionof those stories are based on some semblance of the truth…”

“It’d sure explain why Dawson and Jacobs are willing to go to such extremes to get their hands on that Smoking Mirror of yours,” Adam finished flatly.

Ellie raised her head as a quick, energizing fear snapped through her.

“No,” she protested. “They couldn’t possibly… That would be…” She shook her head as she tried to clear her spinning thoughts. “The Smoking Mirror is… It’sknowledge. It’s the ability to look into any place or time. The annals say that those who possessed it could see as though through the eyes of the gods.”

“Look on the bright side,” Adam offered. “It could be worse, like a flying hammer or a flaming sword or something.”

Ellie stood up.