The Gates of Winter - Mark Anthony [59]
Almost. The writing on the stone was too incomplete to have been transcribed into the Seekers' language files. That was why no match had come up months ago, when Deirdre first performed a search on the writing on Glinda's ring. However, once she magnified and enhanced the image, the similarities were apparent to her eye despite the fragmentary nature of the inscription. The writing on Glinda's ring and the keystone were exactly the same—the same symbols written in the same order.
That wasn't the only similarity. Just like the inscription on the keystone, the DNA sequence was fragmentary. It was taken from a sample that had been collected nearly two centuries ago, at the same London location from which the keystone was removed. The sample had been analyzed only recently, as part of an ongoing effort to sequence all biological matter—hair, blood, bone—contained in the Seeker vaults before time took its toll and any hope of doing so was lost.
Despite the poor quality of the sample, computer analysis determined there was significant similarity between the partial DNA sequence and the sequence Deirdre had performed on the sample of Glinda's blood she had collected. The case to which the keystone and the partial DNA sequence were related had been closed in 1816. Now, once again, Deirdre had found a connection between a long-forgotten case and a modern investigation. Without doubt, the 1816 case was linked to Glinda. But how?
“Maybe it's simpler than you think.” She sat at the computer and quickly typed a query.
Identify the location where the biological sample and keystone from the case 1816-11a were collected. Superimpose result on a map of present-day London.
[Enter]
The computer chimed, and a new window opened, covering the others. It showed a map of London. A red star blinked in the center of the map. Deirdre leaned closer, reading the word on the map just below the star: Brixton.
Surrender Dorothy. It had to be; it made too much sense. In 1816, the Seekers had collected samples with otherworldly connections from a building in Brixton—the same building that, nearly two centuries later, housed the nightclub.
So the Seekers were aware of Surrender Dorothy. At least at one time they were.
Or was it the other way around? Maybe it wasn't chance that Deirdre had met Glinda that day in the Sign of the Green Fairy.
They knew about the Seekers—Glinda, Arion the doorman, all of them—and they were desperate for help. Duratek was using them, hoping their blood might open a gate to Eldh. Who else could they turn to?
Only it had been too late. Deirdre hadn't been able to help them. That night, Surrender Dorothy had burned, taking its strange denizens with it.
Deirdre twirled the silver ring on her finger. “Who were you, Glinda? You and the others. You weren't quite fairies. But you weren't quite human, either. So where did you come from? And why were you in London?”
She opened a new session window on the computer. There had to be more answers in the Seekers' files. And with Echelon 7, she was going to find them. She started a new query, one to call up all otherworldly cases located in London in the last four hundred years, but before she could finish typing the screen went blank.
Deirdre frowned. Was the battery dead? She started to check it, then froze. Words scrolled across the screen.
> You'll never find it that way.
She stared at the computer. She hadn't done that; her hands weren't even on the keyboard. The words pulsed slowly, like a slow laugh. Deirdre moistened her lips, then touched her fingers to the keys.
Find what? [Enter]
> What you're seeking.
The reply had come quickly, as if the person on the other end had been