The Amulet of Power - Mike Resnick [95]
“But—”
“Ibraham, are you going to do what I ask or not?”
“Yes, Lara Croft. I will do as you ask.”
She turned and entered the shop, and emerged ten minutes later with her purchase in a small cardboard box.
“What did you buy?” asked Ibraham.
“A remembrance of the Seychelles,” she said.
“Where can I drive you now?”
“Back to the hotel.”
“Nowhere else?” he persisted. “You came out only to buy a gift?”
“That’s right.”
His expression said that he would never understand Western women, but he did as she asked, and a few moments later they were back in the hotel.
“I’m going to go to my room for a minute and then see if my friend would like some dinner. Do you recommend the hotel’s restaurant?”
“It is one of the best on the island, perhaps second only to the Scala, which is in the capital city of Victoria.”
“Good,” said Lara. “Then we’ll eat here. Would you care to join us?”
He shook his head. “I am not staying here, and only residents may dine in the hotel restaurant. I will watch you from the lobby or the beach, depending on where you are seated.”
“Then thank you for the ride, and I’ll see you later. Or at least you’ll see me, which is probably more important.”
She went down the corridor, unlocked her room, tucked the box into her shoulder bag next to her guns, then stopped by Oliver’s room.
“Ready for dinner?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I knocked on your door a few minutes ago, but you didn’t answer.”
“I was asleep; I just woke up.”
They began walking to the lobby, then turned and entered the restaurant.
The maître d’ escorted them to a table and a moment later a waiter came by to deliver menus and take their drink orders. He seemed offended, as only waiters in very fine French restaurants can seem, when they asked for tea instead of wine.
“By the way, Malcolm,” she said, “there’s a very nice casino just opposite the restaurant.”
“I know. I saw it when I came in.”
“I was thinking we might stop by for an hour or two when we’re done with dinner.”
“Sounds good to me.”
They ordered the lobster thermidor, and followed it with Grand Marnier soufflés, then wandered over to the casino. Lara quickly lost more than ten thousand rupees at roulette, while Oliver bet far less and played far more conservatively at the baccarat table. She was looking around for a different game when an elegant young Frenchman approached her.
“I have a message for you, Lara Croft,” he said.
“What is it?”
“Your table is waiting for you.”
She frowned. “My table?”
“Yes. Please follow me.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
“Then you will continue to live in ignorance,” he said. “I assure you that this is not a trap.”
“What are your assurances worth?” she asked.
He smiled. “I will enter first. You can watch me every second, even use me for a shield if I have lied to you.”
She considered his offer for a moment. “All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”
He led her to a small door that she hadn’t noticed at the side of the casino.
“This is it?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You go in first.”
“Certainly.”
The young Frenchman opened the door and entered the dimly lit room. She followed him in, and the door closed behind her.
“And now I must leave you,” said the Frenchman.
He seemed to grow thinner and less substantial, and then he vanished completely.
“Welcome, Lara Croft,” said a wispy voice to her right. She spun around to confront it, and found herself facing another manifestation of the sand creature she had seen in the desert. This one sat behind a table; it took human form, though its features were very vague, and it wore a hooded robe. “Sit down.”
A chair popped into existence across the table from the sand creature, and she felt an almost irresistible compulsion to walk over and sit on it. She resisted for a moment, just to make sure she could, and then complied with its request.
“You are closer to finding me than anyone has ever been,” said the creature. “Others may guess where I am hidden, but you know.”
“Why do you talk to me through a sand demon?”
“I come from hot dry