"Alex!" Rick gabbed his son by the shoulders, checking the kid over for injuries.
"Dad, I'm fine, Dad, gerroff!" Alex grumbled, fighting away from his father. "I'm fine!"
"I've lost them. They've gone." Hallet sounded pissed at himself that the soldiers had managed to elude him. "They've fucking gone."
"Who the hell were they?" Rick demanded.
But Jonathan was still staring into the flames, with a sick sneaking feeling that he knew.
"Ad tuendam Fidem."
"What?" His brother-in-law demanded.
"It's Latin." Jonathan said. "It means 'To protect the Faith'."
A sudden chill seemed to cut through the air.
"We have to go." Dragovitch tore around the corner. "Local militia coming."
"But it's gone!" Alex shouted. "Everything that has happened, and it's all gone!"
Jonathan understood his nephew's frustration. With a trembling hand he reached into the crater and took up a handful of the Emerald Tablet, running the shards through his fingers. Everything was gone in an instant.
Everything.
But the shards just didn't feel right to his fingers. All manner of gemstones had made their way to and from his hands over the years, and Jonathan liked to think he had a good sense for picking the real from the fake. And right now it legitimately didn't feel right at all, too crumbly and not as sharp.
Frowning, he squinted down at his hand, holding the shards closer to the fire.
The shards weren't gemstone. They weren't even bloody green.
With more than a little dramatic flair he flung away the handful of gravel he was holding, searching for Kurt in the darkness.
"Steiner! What did you do?"
By the light of the burning lorry Jonathan could see his friend's apologetic grin. "I might have taken the stone tablet from the church in Punt." He said. "I might have also taken the opportunity to swap the two." He indicated the open knapsack hanging from his back. Jonathan laughed.
"You tricky son of a bitch."