Gift of Fire

hadn’t expected were the undeniably attractive face, the lushly rounded figure, and the silvery blond hair worn in a sleek, shoulder-length bob.
    Elyssa was dressed all in white—a white silk shirt that was open one button lower than necessary for fashion, a white wool trumpet skirt, and white ballet shoes.
    The unrelieved white made a perfect backdrop for the glittering jewelry that adorned every limb, finger, and ear. Huge, sculpted pieces of metal hung from her ears; several rows of colorful necklaces swung over her full breasts; her bracelets were wide cuffs that extended almost to her elbows; bands of gold adorned with small bells circled her ankles. She tinkled and chimed whenever she moved.
    “You must be Verity,” Elyssa said warmly as she extended an elegantly shaped hand. Each graceful finger wore a ring, and her long nails were painted in a variety of glittering colors. “Laura Griswald told us all about you. She said we mustn’t miss your cooking while we’re here in Sequence Springs.”
    Verity escorted her guests to a table. “Please sit down. I’ll be able to talk to you in a few minutes. I just have to finish up some things in the kitchen. Did you want something to eat?”
    Doug Warwick spied the gleaming copper espresso machine in the corner and smiled. “Maybe a cup of espresso, or a café au lait. We ate lunch in the spa dining room.”
    Verity nodded. She’d had an espresso machine installed two months earlier. Actually, Jonas had installed it. He’d had the huge, complex machine up and running within two hours of its arrival. He really was quite handy to have around.
    Verity made two small cups of potent espresso and carried them to the Warwicks’ table. Doug and Elyssa smiled gratefully. A few minutes later the last lunch customer left, and Verity made herself a cup of tea.
    “I understand you’re looking for Jonas,” she said as she sat down at the Warwicks’ table. “I’m afraid he’s out of town at the moment. Business, you know. He’s doing some consulting work for a client in Mexico.”
    Elyssa stirred her espresso and looked seriously impressed. “I imagine his work takes him all over the world.”
    Verity coughed slightly. “His sort of work is international in scope, naturally. He certainly has done a great deal of traveling. I’m expecting him back any day now, however. In his absence I handle certain business matters for him. May I inquire how you heard about him? For the past few years he’s been working out of the country a great deal. He’s only recently made Sequence Springs his business headquarters.” She wondered if she was laying it on too heavily. If Jonas could hear her he would be looking around for something to clean his boots.
    But if Doug and Elyssa were concerned by the fact that the “consultant” they wanted to hire had based his worldwide headquarters in a small-town vegetarian restaurant, they were too polite to show it.
    “Jonas was recommended to us by a friend,” Elyssa said. “A close acquaintance of mine who has the most extraordinary intuition. I explained to him the sort of expert we needed, and he asked around for us. Preston has a wide variety of contacts.”
    “Preston Yarwood,” Doug Warwick put in dryly, “makes a hell of a good living running psychic self-development seminars in the Bay Area. Elyssa’s been a faithful student for the past six months. He’s into crap like channeling and metaphysical massage. He also drives a Porsche and wears hand-tailored suits. I suppose the guy must be doing something right.”
    “Now, Doug, this is no time to make fun of Preston,” Elyssa scolded in a gentle, sisterly tone. “He’s a very talented, highly intuitive man. A wonderful teacher. He’s actually got precognitive abilities, although he’s too modest to admit it.”
    “Bull,” Doug said cheerfully. “He never loses an opportunity to remind people of his so-called visions.”
    “You can’t deny that he found Mr. Quarrel for us.” Verity eyed the Warwicks closely. “Just how did this Preston locate Jonas?”
    Elyssa’s smile was radiant. “He contacted the editor of a small journal that specializes in Renaissance studies. You see, we need an expert in that particular era of history. The journal editor said he’d just published an article by a Mr. Quarrel, who was quite knowledgeable about the Renaissance and might be just the man we needed. He told Preston that Jonas Quarrel once had quite a reputation for