Death is Forever

her almost hidden smile. “You might like it. After all, some people like goanna charred whole in a campfire.”
    “Goanna?”
    “Lizard.”
    Erin’s smile widened. “You’d be amazed at some of the things I ate in the arctic.”
    She took the will and began to read it, frowning over the spidery, faded writing.
    I, Abelard Jackson Windsor, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my worldly possessions and mining claims to Erin Shane Windsor, who is the daughter of Matthew McQueen Windsor, who is the legal son of my brother, Nathan Joseph Windsor.
    With the exception of thirteen rough diamonds and the papers in this box, all my possessions and claims are to be held in trust for Erin Shane Windsor until (1) she has been physically present on the Windsor station for a minimum of eleven months of every year for five years or (2) until she finds the mine these diamonds came from, whichever occurs sooner.
    In the event that neither (1) nor (2) occurs, my possessions are to be given to charity (with the exception of the thirteen diamonds, which in any case belong to Erin Shane Windsor), and my mining claims are to be forfeited.

    Signed Abelard Jackson Windsor
    Witnessed by Father Michael Conroy

    Erin: Trust no man who deals with ConMin,
    He’ll sell your soul for a handful of tin.

    Your heritage is a jewel box
    Kept beneath stone locks.
    Poetry will show the ties.
    Goodbye, my Queen of Lies.

    And I am the King.
    Erin read the document again, then gave Cole an odd look.
    “Questions?” he said.
    “ConMin? Is that what I think it is?”
    “Consolidated Minerals, Inc.”
    “Diamonds,” she said tersely. Her gaze went to Cole’s briefcase for a moment.
    “That’s the most famous aspect of ConMin’s holdings,” he said. “But diamonds are only part of it. ConMin also deals in everything from iron ore to rare earth elements. Their specialty is strategic minerals. ConMin is the most powerful, most lucrative, and most discreet cartel on the planet.”
    Erin flipped through the poetry quickly, then returned to the will and read aloud, “‘Trust no man who deals with ConMin,/He’ll sell your soul for a handful of tin.’”
    Cole didn’t react.
    “Are you employed by ConMin?” she asked.
    “No. I don’t like working for anyone.”
    She considered that for a few seconds, then smiled slightly. It was a point of view she shared. “Is that why Abe sent you?”
    “Your great-uncle didn’t send me. I haven’t seen him in years.”
    Silence, then the sound of papers being shifted while Erin scanned the sheets of doggerel again.
    “Are you a lawyer?” she asked without glancing up from the papers.
    “I’m a diamond prospector. Do you know anything about diamonds, Ms. Windsor?”
    “They’re hard, they’re expensive, and they’re rare.”
    “And some of them are extraordinary,” he said softly. “Some of them are well worth killing for.”
    She measured him for a long moment. “Are my great-uncle’s diamonds extraordinary?”
    “All the stones I saw of his were bort, which is the lowest grade of industrial diamond, which is the lowest grade of diamond, period.”
    “Worthless?”
    “Not quite. But nothing to make my pulse leap, either.”
    Wryly, she wondered just what it would take to disturb this very controlled stranger. “Then my great-uncle’s diamonds aren’t extraordinary at all, are they?”
    “Hold out your hand.”
    “What?”
    “Hold out your hand.”
    “Why?”
    “Just do it, Ms. Windsor.”
    “Go to hell, Mr. Blackburn.”
    His expression didn’t change.
    Erin had the feeling she’d been tested in some way she didn’t understand. She had no sense of whether she’d passed or failed or would be tested again.
    Moving with a deftness surprising in such a big man, Cole opened the worn velvet bag and poured the contents out on his own palm. Erin watched while light slid and shimmered over the marble-size objects, as though they were wet or oiled. Most of the stones were colorless. Several were a deep, lovely pink. One was a green so pure it looked like condensed, concentrated light.
    Automatically she reached for the green stone, then stopped, looking up at Cole’s eyes. For the first time she realized that his eyes weren’t a colorless gray. Tiny shards of pale blue and green and silver radiated out from the pupils in a subtle display of color that was hypnotic.
    “Hold out your hand,” he said softly.
    This time she didn’t hesitate.
    Cupping Erin’s