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“What is a Vortex machine?” Leona asked.

“It would be more accurate to say Vortex machines—plural,” Oliver said. “There have been several attempts to perfect the basic technology over the years. The first versions were introduced back on the Old World in the twentieth century as part of a secret government research program called the Bluestone Project. There were more upgrades in the twenty-first century. Someone among the First Gen colonists evidently managed to smuggle at least one through the Curtain.”

“What are the machines designed to do?”

“Enhance human psychic talents.”

She took a deep breath. “That kind of experimentation is seriously illegal.”

Everyone knew that research carried out with the goal of enhancing the psychic senses was strictly prohibited because it was incredibly dangerous. The historical records were replete with cautionary tales of experiments that had invariably resulted in death or insanity. Humans were still adapting to the unpredictable effects of the paranormal environment on Harmony. Using technology or chemistry to speed up the process was unquestionably risky.

So yes, she repeated the common wisdom without any hesitation because she had practiced it since childhood. But inside she went ice-cold. She and Molly were the products of just such an illegal experiment.

“There are credible rumors that an individual or maybe a clandestine organization is attempting to engineer a new version of Vortex here on Harmony,” Oliver continued.

“Did the old Vortex machines work?” she asked cautiously.

“Depends on your perspective.”

She frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Evidently at least some of the various versions of Vortex have had some limited success. There has always been a theory that Vincent Lee Vance used a Vortex to turn himself into a triple.”

She wasn’t just cold now. It was getting hard to breathe. She stayed very still, desperately trying not to show any reaction. Thankfully, Oliver did not seem to notice that she was fighting off an anxiety attack. She had to make sure he remained oblivious. She had to protect the Griffin Family Secret.

“So, the Vortex technology worked,” she said, leaning in to her detached academic voice. Just one professional chatting with another. “At least some of the time?”

“Yes, but according to the records in the Foundation archives, inevitably the test subjects proved unstable. If the process did not kill them outright, they deteriorated and went insane within weeks—sometimes days. If they did not take their own lives, they were tracked down and killed.”

“Killed?” She stopped breathing altogether for a few horrible seconds. “They weren’t locked up in a para-psych ward?”

“This was back on the Old World, remember? They didn’t have hospitals or prisons designed to house people with dangerous talents. They didn’t have the medications to treat para-psych instability, either. Society and the scientific community as a whole didn’t take the paranormal seriously. Law enforcement wasn’t equipped to deal with the monsters because they didn’t believe they existed.”

Monsters like Molly and me, Leona thought. Back on the Old World they would have been tracked down and destroyed. Here on Harmony they would be considered candidates for a locked ward in a para-psych hospital.

She needed answers but she had to be careful. Oliver Rancourt was looking more dangerous by the minute.

“How are the yellow crystals connected to the Vortex technology?” she asked.

“We don’t know for certain,” he said. “But the theory is that the crystals, when tuned, served as a source of power for the machine that was smuggled through the Curtain two hundred years ago, the one Vance may have used.”

She started to touch the crystal pendant she wore beneath her jacket and quickly lowered her hand. “Are you telling me that I might be wearing a stone connected to an Old World device that was used to create monsters?”

“It was meant to enhance human psychic talents,” Oliver said. “The monsters were what you might call unintended side effects.”

A dose of fight-or-flight adrenaline rezzed her nerves. Don’t panic, she thought. He was fishing in the dark, trying to find out how much she knew. You know nothing .

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything about the yellow crystal I’m wearing except that it has sentimental value to me,” she said.

“You said your sister found the two stones you wear in the location where she was held captive. Were there more of the crystals?”

“Yes, there was a small pile of them, she said. I’m sure the FBPI confiscated them as evidence when they investigated the scene. They found the kidnapper, Nigel Willard, but he was dead. That’s about all I can tell you. Remember, Molly and I were just little girls at the time.”

No need to mention that Eugenie and Charlotte had found Willard’s journal when they rescued Molly. They had taken possession of it without bothering to mention it to the Bureau. The journal containing the Griffin Family Secret was stored in a concealed safe in the Underworld. It did not answer all the questions that she and Molly had about their past, but it answered more than enough to convince them that the contents had to be kept secret.

Oliver looked thoughtful. “I’ll check the FBPI files and see if there’s a record of the crystals being taken into evidence.”

“You can do that? Check the FBPI files? Doesn’t that require some sort of special clearance or something?”

“It requires connections. I’ve got a few.”

“How convenient.”

“Sometimes,” Oliver said. Sunlight glinted ominously on his dark glasses. “Let’s see what we’ve got. First, we have agreed it probably wasn’t a coincidence that the pyramid crystal showed up inside Pandora’s box last night.”

“Agreed,” she said reluctantly.

“Second, I assume you noticed that the news reports about the raid did not mention that the dead woman was wearing a pendant indicating she was a member of a Vance return cult.”

“Yes, but one of my moms reminded me that law enforcement often holds back an important piece of evidence, something only the real killer might know about.”

“That’s true,” Oliver said. “But that is not what happened in this case.”

She swallowed hard. “You’re sure?”

“I told you, I have connections. There was no Vance cult pendant on the body when it was found.”

She tried to process that information but came up with nothing. “What do you think happened to it?”

“I think the killer went back after we left and grabbed it.”

“Why take the risk of getting caught at the scene? There was a raid in progress. The FBPI was swarming through the mansion.”

“There’s only one reason why the killer would have taken the chance,” Oliver said.

“The pendant was evidence that might have provided law enforcement with a lead.”

“Yes. And speaking of coincidences, I did a quick background check on the dead woman after she was ID’d by the authorities this morning. Her name is Astrid Todd. Turns out that before she moved to Illusion Town a few weeks ago, she lived in a little community in the Mirage Mountains called Lost Creek.”

“Never heard of it.”

“I’m headed there today.”

“Why?”

“That’s where the coincidence thing comes in again,” Oliver said. “I already had plans to drive to Lost Creek today. I made those arrangements before the reception. Before I knew Astrid Todd existed. Before she was murdered. Before the pyramid crystal popped up inside Pandora’s box.”

Leona got a frisson of knowing. “I think I see where you’re going here.”

“I’m going to Lost Creek. Want to come with me?” he asked, as if he had read her mind.

She stared at him. “You’re inviting me?”

He smiled a slow, satisfied smile. “Don’t tell me you weren’t already thinking of heading there yourself.”

“Why would I want to drive all the way to Lost Creek?” she asked, working very hard to sound innocent.

“You’re as curious about the coincidences piling up around us as I am.”

“Well, yes,” she allowed.

“I can give you another one. There’s an old legend that claims Vance’s original headquarters was located in or around Lost Creek.”

She absorbed that information and got another intuitive ping.

“I’ve never heard that,” she said slowly. But it wasn’t like she was an authority on Vance or the history of the rebellion that had nearly destroyed the colonies a hundred years earlier. Oliver, however, appeared to be very certain of what he was talking about.

He shrugged. “It’s just one of a few dozen Vance myths that circulate on the rez-net. But, like I said, it’s another interesting coincidence.”

“Why were you originally planning to go to Lost Creek?” she asked.

“A collector obsessed with Vance memorabilia lives in the Lost Creek area. He contacted me a few days ago. Said he recently came across a file on the Bluestone Project.”

“The Old World government program that produced the first Vortex machine?” she asked.

“Right. He claims the file is authentic. He’d heard I might be interested in it. He offered to sell it to the museum. We set up an appointment for me to view the document.”

She blew out a breath. “You’re right about the coincidences. They certainly are coming in hot.”

“What do you say? Want to come with me? There’s no point driving two separate cars to the Mirage Mountains. We’ll take mine. We can talk on the way. Make plans for how we want to deal with our inquiries in Lost Creek.”

“You really think there’s something important to find there, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said, “I do.”

“It’s an interesting idea,” she allowed.

He checked his watch. “If we leave within the hour, we can be there early this evening. I’ve got reservations at the local inn.”

Her heart rate picked up as understanding struck. She smiled slowly.

“This isn’t about doing me any favors, is it?” she said. “You think I might be useful.”

“And you think you might be able to use me,” he said. “Our agendas are aligned, at least for the moment. We’ve both got questions about the pyramid crystal and all those coincidences. We are more likely to get answers if we coordinate and work together.”

“Partners as long as the partnership is mutually beneficial,” she said, tasting the concept.

“Exactly.”

“All right. We have a deal.”

He did not even try to hide his satisfaction. It was irritating that he had known she would not be able to resist his offer, but she refused to let that stand in the way. This was too important. It was about the past—Molly’s and her own. There might be answers in Lost Creek.

She slipped off the bench and stood. “I need to go home and pack. Where shall I meet you?”

“I’ll pick you up at your apartment in the DZ.”

“I took public transportation to get here today. It will take me a while to get home.”

“I’ll drive you.”

She raised her brows. “You really are in a hurry to get to Lost Creek, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’ve got that feeling you sometimes get in our work.”

“The feeling that this is important.”

“That one.”

Shrieks of excitement and a lot of chortling interrupted her thoughts. She turned toward the large pond and saw that the two kids had launched the remote-controlled boat. The vessel was heading out across the pond, picking up speed.

Roxy was on board.