Gift of Fire

we saw in the vision. I was just sitting there in that circle, Jonas, thinking about the treasure and wondering where it might be when all of a sudden this picture of a small dark room popped into my head. I thought you might have seen it too.”
    Jonas paced the length of the room, rubbing the back of his neck. His expression was grim. “I didn’t really feel or see anything. I just got the impression you were suddenly somewhere else.” He shot her a sharp glance. “I hope you’re not going to get sucked into believing in this psychic crap about crystals and astral energy and the rest of that nonsense.”
    “I got sucked into believing in your psychic abilities, didn’t I?” Verity retorted.
    He stopped pacing long enough to throw her a severe glance. “That’s different.”
    “I see. Thank you for pointing that out.”
    “You didn’t really see an image of a room tonight, did you?” he demanded.
    “I saw it.”
    “It was your imagination.”
    “Possibly.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I was picking up on someone else’s thoughts,” she said slowly, thinking of Oliver Crump. “Jonas, you don’t suppose that someone in that group really is psychic, do you? You and I were just playing parlor games tonight for the sake of the client, but some of the others were actually trying to project through that crystal. What if one of them really did pick up on something, and I got some of the backlash, the way I do when you use your powers?”
    “I can’t believe that any of those idiots are genuine psychics,” Jonas said coldly.
    “They’re not idiots, Jonas. Two of them are clients. One of them is a very nice man who’s studying herbs and crystal healing techniques, and one of them believes sufficiently in his own psychic powers that he once paid to have himself tested.”
    “Yarwood.” Jonas considered that for a moment. “I still don’t believe it. If he did have some talent, why would he have the Warwicks pay me to check out this villa? He could have done it himself.”
    “Doug wanted someone with genuine academic credentials, remember? Besides, Preston doesn’t claim any talent for psychometry, just a little precognitive ability. That wouldn’t have helped in a treasure hunt, let alone in authenticating the villa. Elyssa and Preston felt they needed you.”
    Jonas shook his head. “I can’t believe Yarwood’s got any real psychic ability. The man’s a con artist, pure and simple.”
    “One who apparently believes in his own con.”
    “They’re the most dangerous kind.”
    Verity looked at Jonas. “Are we going into that hidden tunnel tonight?”
    “I’m going in. But I think you ought to stay here.”
    “We’ve already been through this, Jonas. I insist on coming with you. I’m warning you, I’ll follow you if I have to.”
    “I don’t like it, Verity.” But it was obvious that he had no real hope of talking her out of it.
    “We’ll both be very careful.” She rose to her feet. “Ready when you are.”
    “Verity…
    She was already at the tapestry, moving it aside. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Jonas.”
    “For better or for worse?” he asked softly.
    She saw the intensity in his golden eyes. She looked away again nervously. “We’d better hurry if we want to get any sleep tonight.”
    “Little coward,” he muttered. He picked up the flashlight and switched it on. You stay two paces behind me at all times, and you don’t touch anything or step anywhere I haven’t already touched or stepped.”
    “Yes, O Great Psychic Hunter of the Night.”
    “Give me any lip and I’ll tie you to the bed and leave you there while I explore this tunnel.”
    Verity shut up and smiled her most dazzling smile. Jonas sighed and picked up her discarded cane. He hefted it experimentally and stepped into the stone passage.
    “Is it still there?” Verity asked as she followed him into the tunnel.
    “Is what still here?” His voice was a soft echo in the passageway.
    “The skeleton.”
    “Of course it’s still here. Where did you think it might go?”
    She refused to glance behind the stone door. “I was just checking. What are you going to use the cane for?”
    “As a probe for booby traps.”
    “Good idea.”
    “Thank you,” he replied sarcastically. “I don’t know how much good it will do. I think I’m better off relying on my psychic ability and these footprints that Digby or his buddy left behind. As long as we step where someone else has already stepped,