“Just my wrists?”

  “I wouldn’t want you to run away now, would I?”

  “You’ve tied them a little too tightly around my ankles,” Abigail said. She made sure to use her softest voice. “Ouch.”

  “Oh, all right. I don’t suppose you’re going anywhere.”

  Charles cut the ropes around Abigail’s ankles too.

  “Riley will know you’ve taken me.”

  Charles flicked a glance at his watch. It was expensive. A Rolex. “Yes, he should by now.”

  Abigail nodded. Did Charles really expect Riley to find the Spear of Destiny and then trade it for her?

  “Abigail, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how scary this must feel.” Charles genuinely looked apologetic. He poured another gin and left it on the small table. “Make yourself at home.” With that, he took the bottle of gin and his chair and slipped through the door.

  Abigail ran to the door and shook the handle. Locked. There was a blue door in the corner of the room. She ran to it. This door was not locked but only opened to a bedroom with an en-suite bathroom. The windows were small, and too high for Abigail to look through. She saw to her dismay that the bathroom had toiletries such as shampoo and conditioner, and plenty of soap.

  The bedroom had a table on which was an electric jug next to a coffee machine and a jar of coffee pods, along with packets of sugar, sweetener, and cookies, which Abigail assumed Charles had pinched from a hotel. Casual clothes lay across the bed. On closer inspection, they seemed to be Charles’s clothes—they were men’s clothes, at any rate.

  Just how long did Charles intend to keep her here?

  Abigail sat on the bed and put her head in her hands. She wondered about Charles, as she had done on several occasions since he had left them to die under the Black Pyramid. Did he work for Vortex, or for somebody else? Or was this all for himself?

  22

  AMALFI COAST

  THE PRESENT DAY

  Abigail couldn’t sit around and wait to be rescued. Besides, Riley had no way of discovering her location. She decided to push the bed over to the wall under the window. She needed to know where she was. The bed was old, wooden, and heavy. She pulled the bedding off the bed and threw it in a corner. She did her best to pull the mattress off to make the bed easier to push, but the mattress itself was heavy as well as unwieldy.

  Abigail struggled with the mattress for some time, and she had expended some effort before she managed to prop it against the wall. Moving the bed was painfully slow. Abigail dragged it a few inches and then rested, before repeating the process.

  Once the bed was pushed up against the wall under the window, she wrestled with the heavy mattress to get it back onto the bed. Abigail jumped onto the mattress and stood on her tiptoes. She could only see the bottom of the windowsill. “If only I wasn’t so short!” she said aloud. She jumped up and down but still couldn’t see out.

  Abigail hurried into the other room and grabbed the chair. The little table was too tiny an flimsy to be of use. She put it on top of the mattress, but the mattress was soft and giving, and the chair wobbled wildly, its metal legs digging into the mattress.

  Abigail looked around for something with which to stabilize the chair. She picked up the discarded bedding and shoved it beneath the chair to hold it in position. It was hard to climb onto the chair without anything to hold onto, but she didn’t have an option. It took a little bit of experimentation before she was able to stand on the chair, keeping her knees bent for stability. She held her breath and looked out the window. At first, all she could see was the ocean. “Am I on a boat?” she said aloud, but then she gingerly straightened her knees.

  Now, she could see the whole vista below her. Directly below was a paved courtyard with a black and white striped umbrella overhanging a table and chairs. The chairs were yellow, and the table featured a pattern of grapes hanging from vines.

  To her left were houses perching on a cliff face. Abigail’s spirits sank. Even if she could get out of the window, she might not be able to escape. From this direction, it seemed the only way out was down the cliff face. Still, she wouldn’t know until she tried.

  A stone fence surrounded the courtyard, and to the left, vegetation poked over it. Hopefully, the vegetation was an indication that the cliff face wasn’t vertical.

  Abigail did her best to remember her modern geography. She thought they were possibly in Positano. She remembered that it was a village south of Naples with beautiful villas on a cliffside. And it certainly seemed she was in one of those villas now. Did Charles own it? Or was he renting it? Or did Vortex own it? She had no idea whether Charles was working for Vortex or whether he was a free agent.

  Abigail gently lowered herself from the chair. However, going up had been easier than going down. The chair slid off the bed, as did Abigail. She landed on the floor with a thud. Abigail rubbed her elbow. She needed to make a plan.

  She looked in the bathroom and bedroom and then scoped out the room in which she had been tied. It was a bare room with no windows. She had no idea of the original purpose of the room and why there were no windows in it. There was no air-conditioning, so Abigail figured the ventilation came from the sea breezes.

  The only windows that opened were in the bathroom, but they were too high. There was no way a chair on top of the bed would ever reach those windows, not that the bed would fit in the bathroom. There was a switch on the wall, and Abigail realized it was a remote control for the windows.

  After scoping out the place once more, Abigail figured the only way out was to smash the bedroom window.

  While Charles had provided clothes, he hadn’t provided any shoes, and she was wearing her pajamas, a bathrobe, and bare feet. The first thing she did was change into the clothes left on the bed. Abigail did not fancy climbing out the window through broken glass with bare feet. She checked in the two nightstand drawers, but they were empty. Charles had, however, provided a thick pair of socks, so she put those on.

  “You’re better than nothing,” Abigail said to the socks. Now, she had to find something to break the glass. Abigail walked into the shower and tried to detach the shower head, but without tools, it was impossible, even though she pulled with all her might. She went back to the bedroom and picked up the coffee machine. It was heavy and might do the trick.

  Abigail propped the chair back on the mattress and stuffed the bedding under it once more. She shoved her pajama top over her head to protect her from shattering glass and then hit the window as hard as she could with the coffeepot.

  Nothing happened.

  Abigail tried again and again. She was about to give up, but thought should give it one last go. This time, a thin crack formed in the glass. It was difficult to balance and hit hard with the coffeepot, but the crack gave Abigail fresh hope. With renewed vigor, she hit the glass again and again until finally, it shattered. A few hits with the edge of the coffeepot removed the jagged edges.

  Abigail climbed down from the chair to fetch her bathrobe which she carefully draped, over the windowsill. The window was easily wide enough for her to climb through, but there appeared to be a considerable drop.

  When she was halfway out the window, she realized it wasn’t as much of a drop in she had first thought. A stone fence was directly below her. She managed to lower herself onto that. The jump the rest of the way to the courtyard floor was easy. So far so good, but Abigail had no idea how long it would be before Charles discovered she was missing.

  There were windows above, so she couldn’t risk going to the edge of the courtyard to look over the edge. Abigail dropped to her hands and knees and crawled under several windows along the side of the villa. To her left was a little iron gate. She opened it and slipped through.

  It brought her to a flight of stone steps. They descended sharply. She took off at a flat sprint. As she reached the edge of the house, she heard a loud yell. “Abigail!”

  Abigail didn’t know if Charles had seen her or whether he was simply calling out, having found her missing, but she wasn’t about to wait around and find out. She sprinted faster over the uneven paving, past the pretty pink bougainvillea which scratched her as she pushed past it, and ran the narrow street as fast as she could.

  Abigail thought about running to the first house she passed, but fear kept her running. She continued on, ignoring the pain in her bare feet, ducking down side streets and zigzagging as much as she could.

  Finally, she doubled over and gasped for breath. She couldn’t keep running, and she had no idea whether Charles had agents with him. She decided to knock on the door of the nearest house. An elderly lady looked through the window and then drew the curtains.

  Abigail tried the next house. Thankfully, a man opened the door. A woman, she presumed his wife, was standing behind him.

  “May I use your phone please?” Abigail asked in Italian.

  “Are you all right?” the woman asked in English.

  So much for my Italian accent! Abigail thought. I need more practice. Aloud she said again, “I’m all right, but may I use your phone please?”

  “Certainly.” The lady showed her to a black and gold phone on a gilded hall table next to a sweeping marble staircase. Abigail picked up the phone and then realized she didn’t know Riley’s number. She simply had his name in her contacts. She would have to call the hotel at Herculaneum.

  She asked the clerk if Jack Riley was there and told him the room number. He went to check. She stood there, anxious, and all the time the lady stared at her. She thought she must look a fright with her bare feet, her hair disheveled, the men’s clothing, and her face bright red from running for so long.

  The clerk returned to the phone and said Riley wasn’t in his room. “This is extremely urgent,” she told him. “I’m Abigail Spencer, and I’m a guest at your hotel. I got, um, lost last night and Jack Riley is out now looking for me. When he returns, you must tell him where I am. It’s urgent.”

  “I understand,” the clerk said.

  She handed the phone to the woman. “Would you mind telling him your address, please?”

  The woman obliged. The woman also gave her phone number to the hotel clerk and then hung up. Abigail felt completely at a loss. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Do you mind if I wait here until my friend comes to collect me?”

  “Of course, you may stay,” the lady said. “My name is Elena. Would you like some coffee?”

  “Yes, please.” Abigail realized at that point that Elena’s husband had disappeared.

  Elena showed Abigail into a kitchen. Despite Abigail’s predicament, she couldn’t help but be amazed by both the luxurious kitchen and the view outside the vast windows. The Tyrrhenian Sea sparkled beyond magnificent villas. Elena was impeccably groomed, and her make-up was immaculate. Abigail wondered if Elena dressed like that when remaining in her house all day.

  “Tourist?” Elena asked.

  Abigail shook her head. “I’m a professor from an American college. I was in Rome for a conference. One of my, err, colleagues, um, kidnapped me as a prank. I don’t want to get the police involved,” she hurried to add, “because it would make it difficult for my college, you understand?”

  Elena nodded and then handed Abigail a cup of coffee.

  Abigail sat at the kitchen table. “Thank you for your kindness.”

  “You’re most welcome.”

  Abigail put her hands over her eyes and as the full import of what had happened began to sink in. Charles had actually kidnapped her. He was after the spear. How long before Riley would hear she was okay?

  As if on cue, the phone rang. The lady walked out to answer and soon returned. “It’s your friend. He wishes to speak with you.”

  Abigail resisted the urge to run to the phone. She picked up the black handset and said, “Riley?”

  “Abigail! Thank goodness. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Abigail said. She didn’t like to say too much, not with the lady standing there, watching her. “Charles abducted me, but I climbed out a high window and then ran for some time. I finally stopped at this house, and the lady was kind enough to allow me inside and let me call the hotel.”

  “I have the address. Stay right there and don’t go outside, no matter what,” Riley said. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in just over an hour.” He hung up.

  Abigail kept looking at the clock in the kitchen. She sipped coffee and ate orange focaccia while making small talk. She was on her fifth coffee when she heard the doorbell. She followed the lady to the door. Standing there, was Riley.

  “Abigail?” Riley pulled her into his arms. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, just a few scratches.”

  Riley raised a hand to her shoulder, where there was a thin trail of blood oozing through her clothes. “You’re bleeding?”

  “From a bougainvillea tree, I think.” She turned to Elena. “Thanks so much for everything.”

  Riley clasped Elena’s hands. “Thank you.” He placed his arm around Abigail’s shoulders. “Come on then.”

  Riley’s car was parked a short distance away.

  “That’s a different car,” Abigail said.

  “I thought I’d hire a different car for this,” Riley said, “to make it more difficult for Charles to get eyes on us.” After Abigail was in the car, he said, “What happened to your shoes?”

  “Charles used chloroform or something like that. I was wearing my pajamas and a bathrobe. It was just after two in the morning.”

  Riley’s knuckles went white on the steering wheel. “Did he hurt you?”

  “It didn’t do me much good to be chloroformed, of course, but he didn’t hurt me after that. I hurt myself escaping.”

  “Do you know where you were held?”

  “It was a house like this one, but it was higher up.”

  “If we drove around, do you think you could find it?”

  “I don’t know,” Abigail admitted. “I was too busy escaping.”

  “You did a really good job. Did you see or hear anybody else with him?”

  Abigail shook her head. “No. The only thing I noticed was that the villa had a courtyard and a brightly colored table and chairs in the courtyard. As for the front of the house, I’m sorry, but I didn’t notice. I was too busy running. All I can tell you is that there was a narrow passageway to the left-hand side when looking at the house, and there was a pink bougainvillea tree at the side of the house.”

  Just as she said that, Riley’s car drove past two houses that fitted that description. Abigail sighed and ran her hands over her eyes.

  “We’ll look for about five minutes, and if you can’t find it, I’ll take you back to the hotel,” Riley said. “Why are you wearing those clothes?”

  “Charles had some clothes on the bed for me. I figured they were his.”

  Riley simply grunted.

  They drove around for a while, but Abigail wasn’t able to identify the house. “I’m fairly certain it was up here, up high, but I couldn’t tell you where it was, because I didn’t look back.” She yawned widely. “I just kept running.”

  “That’s okay,” Riley said. “I’d love to hear how you escaped.”

  Abigail fell asleep.

  23

  POMPEII 79 A.D.

  FIRST DAY OF THE VESUVIUS ERUPTION

  Flavia fell into an exhausted sleep. She was awoken early in the night by a tremor. This tremor, unlike previous ones, did not stop.

  The servant, Laelia, shook Flavia awake at dawn’s first light. “Your mother, the Lady Augusta, wants you dressed at once. She wants to speak with you and your sisters urgently.”

  Laelia helped Flavia dress, and then a tired Flavia hurried to the largest reception room. Augusta, Livia, and Drusilla were already there. Drusilla was rubbing her eyes and yawning. The earth was still trembling.

  Augusta looked a little untidy, not her usual perfectly groomed self. “Daughters, this tremor has been going all night. This is what happened before the big earthquake of seventeen years ago. I fear another big one is coming, so we are all going to our house in Rome.”

  “All of us? Now?”

  “Yes, Drusilla, the whole household. The four-wheeled carriages are being made ready as we speak.”

  Drusilla groaned. “Mother, carriage travel makes me sick. Surely, we could go by sea?”

  “I do not have time for your nonsense, Drusilla,” Augusta snapped. “You are the only person I know who gets sick by carriage yet not by sea. If you had lived through the big earthquake of seventeen years ago, you would not be standing here complaining! There are no words to explain it. I feared for my very life. I do not want to go through that again. We will leave as soon as possible. Besides, have you seen the sea? The waves are immense. Travel by carriages will be much safer, and besides, we do not have time to organize a ship.”

  I cannot go, Flavia thought, not without Titus. What will I do? I need to speak with Rufus again.

  “Flavia! Are you listening?”

  “Sorry, Mother. What did you say?”

  “I said you must hurry and pack.”

  Back in her private apartment, Flavia spoke to Laelia. “I’m going to go and speak with Rufus.”

  “Oh no, you cannot. The shaking is frightening.”

  “I don’t have a choice, Laelia. You can either stay and pack or come with me.”

  Laelia hesitated for a moment. “I will go with you. I cannot let you go out alone.”

  Flavia hugged Laelia. “Thank you.”

  The shaking was not getting worse, but it was not showing any sign of abating. Flavia and Laelia made their way carefully across the pavements. When they reached the Road of Abundance, a tremendous explosion threw them both to the ground.

  Laelia was the first on her feet. “Flavia!” she cried.

  All the hairs stood up on the back of Flavia’s neck. She knew at once that something out of the ordinary, something truly awful and worse than an earthquake, was happening.

  Laelia grabbed Flavia’s arm to help her up and pointed to the mountains which loomed over Pompeii less than six miles away.