Chapter Four: The Message
" 'That which you fear is not so. Continue to follow the eyes of the tiger'," Sydney read aloud.
"What does it mean?" Preston asked, frowning in confusion.
Sydney sat down on a nearby chair and stared unseeingly across the lobby of Le Hôtel Fluvial, her vision blurring at the edges as moisture rose to her eyes. She knew what the message meant. Professor Fox dropped her eyelids to shut in the tears and lifted a slightly trembling hand to her mouth, trying to make little of the extreme relief that was washing over her in deep waves.
"Sydney?"
The relic hunter looked up to meet the questioning look of her best friend's brother. Her eyelashes were damp and irises bright, but she had succeeded in not letting a single drop fall to her cheek. She cleared her throat before speaking.
"Nigel's alive. I-It means that Nigel's alive."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Preston sat down next to Sydney, his face in his hands, letting the blessed words sink in and welcoming the rush of relief.
Slowly, Sydney folded the note and put it into her pocket. Then she stood up and placed a hand on the elder Bailey's shoulder.
"Go and find Karen, and meet me on the patio," she told him. "We've got a relic to find."
.
Five minutes later, Preston and Karen slipped onto white-painted metal chairs opposite Professor Sydney Fox, who was hidden behind a large map. Sydney folded the map with the ease of someone who was well acquainted with handling them in conditions far worse than the current warm evening air of Southern France that was stirred only by the occasional light breeze.
Putting the map on top of the assortment of faxes, books, photocopies and printouts that covered the tabletop, Sydney exchanged a brief smile with her secretary in silent celebration of the good news about Nigel. Then she became businesslike.
"There are thought to be three Scrolls hidden across France," Sydney said. "Each one gives a clue to lead you to the next, until you've found the third, which will tell you where the Stone is."
Preston nodded. He was already familiar with the myth, having researched it longingly, after Sydney and Nigel had departed to look for the Stone. He'd wanted to go with them, but he'd had arrangements to meet an old friend who was involved with the Egyptology conference. Not to mention the fact that they'd overlooked inviting him to join them. Nigel had called Preston from the airport, informing him that he and Sydney were about to depart to Toulouse.
Podge still isn't too keen on spending extensive amounts of time with me, Preston mused. He allowed himself to think of his brother in terms of the long outdated, childhood nickname he'd mercilessly given him, now that he knew Nigel was alive. Though, perhaps not well…he had been shot after all… Preston pushed the uncomfortable thoughts out of his mind.
"Nigel and I found the first clue – the First Scroll of the Tiger, as it is known – hidden in the tomb," Sydney went on. She sighed. "However, that parchment is now in the hands of D'orage or else lying at the bottom of the river."
Sydney stared into the Garonne from where she sat on the hotel patio, on the edge of the river's western bank. Here the water was still, reflecting the sun like a mirror, in sharp contrast to the rushing rapids that passed through the tomb, south of the city. The Scroll failed to miraculously float to the surface.
"Did you manage to read what it said?" Preston asked.
Sydney sighed again.
"Something about looking for the tiger…and its eye…" Sydney screwed up her forehead in concentration. "Damn it, Nigel would remember…" she muttered, bitterly. Slowly she brightened. "I think I've got it," she said, at last. "Or at least the gist." She opened a notepad and wrote it down, as she spoke, "Look for the tiger, go upwards and it will be marked by the eye…or something like that."
Karen looked like she was going to say something, but didn't.
"Maybe it's referring to pictures carved into rock," Preston suggested, thoughtfully.
"Or a rock shaped like a tiger…" Sydney said.
"Perhaps a cliff face has been weathered away to look like a face or an eye…"
"We'll have to go back to the tomb tomorrow," Sydney decided.
"The surroundings may give us a hint as to which way to go," Preston agreed.
"But what about these mystery guys we've been looking for?" Karen finally cut in. "Who, I presume, sent the note."
"I think we're meant to stop searching for them and focus on finding the relic. That way Nigel won't be harmed," Sydney explained.
"So, these people have Nigel held to ransom then?" Karen asked, looking severely alarmed.
"No, I don't think so," Sydney said, slowly. She looked thoughtful. "The message wasn't threatening. If anything it was a friendly warning. It's telling us that we'll see Nigel again if we follow the path to find the relic. Perhaps, it's unsafe for us to be reunited with Nigel until the Stone is recovered. I swear someone's been tailing us since we got back from the tomb."
Karen nodded.
"Someone searched my room this afternoon while we were out making inquires. I thought it was just the maid being nosy, but…"
"My guess is that D'orage survived the fall into the river, as I did. He's having our movements monitored."
Preston shifted uneasily in his chair.
"Are you sure we shouldn't give up this hunt? Perhaps the Guardian Stone isn't meant to be found yet. After all the monks did say – "
The two women both gave the Englishman a withering look.
"The message, Preston. It tells us to continue," Karen said, impatiently. Then she grinned and added, "Besides, when has a little opposition stopped Syd, hmm?"
.
.
As the sun set behind the rooftops of the city of Toulouse, Sydney Fox gripped a tight hold on the rail of her balcony and silently cried out her thanks to the world's mercy.
Nigel is alive…Nigel is alive… The repeated words were like tender kisses in her mind.
Tears flooded from her eyes, as she gave her heart this time to release the emotion she had kept reigned in all evening. With the lights in her room turned out to hide her profile, she smiled with unguarded happiness. The darkness of night kept secret her almost hysterical sobs, until they ceased an hour or so later.
Completely drained but at peace, Sydney slid into bed. She gave a wan smile to the imagined figure she saw stood framed by the moonlight filtering in through the window. Then pulled the sheets up close around her and fell into sweet dreams with him accompanying her.