HEATH

The door opens and the Xander walks in with Joss, who’s holding two stones in his hand. Xander strides over to touch them and traces a finger around the grooves.

How does the Collector feel about his house filled with five refugees?

"How are you now?" he asks Xander.

A freshly showered Xander in jeans and a colourful shirt borrowed from the Collector nods. "I’m fine. Thanks. Do we have what we need now?"

Joss holds the stones tighter. "I think so."

Xander turns to the Collector. "And do you think you can translate this?"

"I think translating will take some time for just one person." The room drops into a tense silence for a moment before the Collector speaks again. "I believe Ripley when he says Breanna can help, and I would wait, but I know you want to find information as as soon as possible."

Joss nods. "I'll help. That will speed things up."

"Yes, perhaps one of you can."

One of us? "Shouldn’t we all work on this?" I ask. "It’ll be quicker."

The Collector shakes his head. "I think too many people will be confusing. And working with people who become frustrated easily won’t help."

My mouth twitches into a smile. No guesses who he’s talking about. Xander crosses his arms. "Fine. How long will this take?"

"How much do you want to know? I doubt we’ll interpret anything but an outline. I don’t think we’re capable of more."

"I want the outline," Vee puts in. "As soon as you know anything, I need to hear. We all do."

The others voice their agreement.

"I won’t be able to sit around waiting," says Ewan. "I want to see if we can salvage anything in the house. Heath? Xander? What about you, Vee?"

She shakes her head. "I’m staying."

Vee looks to Joss, who nods at her. I understand. She shouldn’t be in the room when they’re trying, because if they misinterpret and Vee hears something terrible, how would she react?

No, we need to wait until Joss has something to share. He leaves us with reassurances he’ll tell us everything, as soon as he can, but with trepidation in his eyes.

* * *

JOSS

I follow the Collector to his study. He sets the book Seth would fight for, and the carved stones, on the table. He rubs his temples as he opens the book and looks from the stones to the symbols scrawled inside.

With apprehension, I sit and we both flick through in silence. I spend an hour comparing the stones, but there’s little I can decipher. Tapping my pen on the table, I read over information the Collector passes me for my opinion.

"Please stop. You're annoying me," he says.

I do as he asks, and the Collector sits back dragging hands through his blond curls. "I've lost concentration now!"

"I can take over?" I suggest. "You've a pattern now, haven't you? That should help make out more sentences."

"I'd rather you didn't until what I've found is clearer." He closes the book with his notepad inside. "Have you deciphered any more?"

"I can make out a few words but that’s all."

With a sigh he stares down at the book. "I wish Breanna were here. If what Ripley says is true, this would be clearer and quicker."

"Are you saying it’s useless us trying to do this?" My stomach leadens. "We can surely find something."

"Yes, we can. But this will take longer."

We return to our work and attempt to put together sentences, or match them to pictures. Chaos and Truth are the most common words, but the Horsemen aren’t mentioned as frequently.

I look up at the clock ticking above a nearby fireplace and rub my eyes. Three hours and my head aches with frustration. I never expected this to be easy but, after days chasing around and weeks not knowing who Verity is, we need answers. They’re in reach. So close.

But will they be the answers we want?

The Collector interrupts my thoughts."Joss. I need to talk to you."

"Did you find something?"

I’ve seen The Collector lose his impassive attitude once, in Portia’s presence. Twice now, because he’s looking at me as if seeing me through different eyes. He can’t hide his thoughts—the Collector doesn’t want to tell me what he found.

But he has no choice. He offered to help.

"Yes. I need you to tell me if I’ve interpreted this correctly." He pushes the notepad across the table, and my hand shakes as I take hold.