The River of No Return

fastened to a leather leash, and he was taking her home with him. In spite of his protests the huge animal was now his, and she seemed to know it. She stood by him, panting happily, her eyes fixed on his face.
    As for Alva, the intensity she had succumbed to in the catacombs had lifted like a fog. “Don’t worry about the end of the world,” she said. “We are time travelers! We will sail our little skiffs up and down the river until we get it right. For now, you and I must play the game of marquess and mistress. When shall we meet again?”
    “Must we actually go through with the charade? Surely not.”
    “We absolutely must. The Guild has to believe that you are tricking me, and that I am enthralled with you. We are all searching for the Talisman, you see. And if you or I find it? If the Guild believes that you have conquered me, we will have a much better chance of selling them a lie about its whereabouts. So. Tonight? Shall we have dinner in some public place?”
    Nick sighed. “Fine.”
    Alva laughed. “You remind me of Ignatz! He was just as grumpy.”
    “The last thing I want to do is remind you of your lover!”
    Alva stared at him, shocked, her eyes filling immediately with tears.
    Nick could have bitten his tongue out. Why had he said such a cruel thing? “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. I only meant . . . I didn’t mean—”
    “No. Don’t. I know what you meant.” She wiped her eyes quietly with her handkerchief. “And I didn’t mean that you remind me of him as a lover. It’s just . . .” She put her head on one side. “I miss him. He was an irascible old man and a terrible rake, but I loved him dearly. He was a scholar, a teacher, a great Ofan. . . .”
    “He was Ofan? The Guild thinks your lover was a Natural. Some rich old Englishman.”
    “They are idiots.” She smiled. “And in their idiocy lies our greatest chance of success. Now, before you go, I must tell you the only thing I know about the Talisman. The only thing the Guild does not know.” She looked straight into his eyes. “I decided to trust you long ago, Nick. And I have not asked you for promises. But what I am about to tell you . . . you must not tell the Guild.”
    Nick looked up over her head and into the square. Could she trust him? He put his hand on Solvig’s broad head, felt the confident, innocent warmth of the animal. Solvig had chosen him in spite of the fact that he didn’t need her. Didn’t particularly want her. And the Ofan seemed to have chosen him as well, for equally obscure reasons. He looked back into Alva’s eyes. “I promise,” he said.
    She spoke easily, without whispering, without drama. “When the future changed, and we became aware of the Pale, Ignatz and those of us who were close to him dedicated ourselves to study. Thirteen of us. We set up the Ofan research station near Cachoeira, in Brazil, and we started trying to learn about the Pale. Then Eréndira disappeared over the Pale and we could not find her. Ignatz came back to England and the late eighteenth century a broken man. Eréndira reappeared, only to die. Ignatz called Arkady and he arrived in time to hold her as she slipped away. Ignatz was inconsolable. He left London and the Ofan community here. He spent the last twenty years of his life in near solitude, buried in the country. He came to London only rarely, and only to see me. The Ofan almost forgot about him, and the Guild lost track of him altogether; they thought he was dead. Then, just a month or so ago, I received a letter from him. The letter was cryptic in the extreme; he explained that he was dying, of a fast-moving disease, but he said that he knew for a fact that the Talisman was more than a rumor. It was too dangerous to spell out the details in a letter. But he said that I must race to find it before the Guild. That was all the letter said. He signed it without love, without a personal greeting. Another letter followed a day later, addressed in Ignatz’s hand but delivered by a special courier. I tore it open, thinking that this would be his farewell to me. But the page was empty except for a symbol. I have only ever seen that symbol in one other place.”
    “Where?”
    “In the design of Eréndira’s ring.”
    “Then that ring is the Talisman! Surely that’s the obvious inference. What does the ring look like?”
    “It is small, but intricate. Passed down through her family for many generations. The symbol is abstract; you wouldn’t