and there had not been a single day during the first ten years of his life that she had not resented having to care for him.
Oh, she had taught him. Arthur had been bright beyond words. He had picked up every scrap of knowledge his aunt would bring him. But nothing he did could make up for what Emily had considered the derailment of her career. The Katzenbaum Institute did not make allowances for its scientists with young children at home. In spite of her brilliance, she was bypassed for the big projects, demoted to the second tier of players, removed from the inner circle.
For this she blamed Arthur. And though she had dutifully kept her humiliating job as a second-rate employee of the institute in order to support the unwanted infant who had been dumped into her lap, she had never held him in her arms, nor sung him a lullaby, nor dried his tears. In the early years of his disappearance, she had wondered if he had missed those things.
Of course he had, she told herself a thousand times since he had gone.
Still, he had not left out of hatred for her. The fact that she had been a terrible guardian was actually quite coincidental to his necessity to leave. There had been people who would have harmed Arthur if they had found him. Going to the police had not been an option. If it had not been for Hal Woczniak, Arthur surely would have died long before the hotel fire in Tangier.
Emily had given up trying to get Arthur back. She understood that he was special, more special than anyone knew except for Hal. The boy belonged with him.
She had never explained that to either of them. That was going to be Emily's gift to them at the hotel in Tangier: She was going to let Hal know that he had done right by the boy. She was going to tell Arthur that she knew about the cup, that he wouldn't have been safe with Emily, that the circumstances in which they had found themselves had made ordinary life impossible.
And that she loved him. But the fire had rendered all that moot.
Now, everyone who had been after them was dead. And the cup, that magical, wicked thing that had come to Arthur Blessing during the tenth year of his life and made sure he would never have a normal life again, had been safely hidden at last.
Hidden to others. Perhaps all others. But Emily knew exactly where it was.
It was in Miller's Creek.
Chapter Seven
THE GODS AT PLAY
S he had known it since she first read about the healing water in Dawning Falls. The first articles, humorous stories about gigantic pumpkins and dairy cows that produced extraordinary quantities of milk, began to appear shortly after Arthur's surprise appearance on television, after which he had vanished without a trace.
The second spate of articles was about an unassuming young man named Zack Diamond, who had recently bought the land containing Miller's Creek. Skeptical journalists had pointed out that the so-called healing properties of the water had begun to occur right after Mr. Diamond had taken ownership of the creek. Some sort of moneymaking scheme was suspected, but a thorough check on Diamond revealed a young man of high ideals whose single oddity seemed to be that he had undergone a near-death experience during a catastrophe involving a building collapsing into a sinkhole in Manhattan.
As soon as she learned that, Emily traveled immediately to Dawning Falls and walked without knocking into the tumbledown frame house built on Miller's Creek.
"Oh, hi," Diamond had said as he looked up from a two-foot stack of papers on a desk made of a hollow-core door laid over two empty file cabinets. Books and notes to himself were scattered all over the room as if they had been blown about by the wind.
Diamond himself was far younger than Emily had expected, and there was nothing in his manner to indicate that he was in any way knowledgeable about business, which was the sad truth. Motivated only by a desire to help mankind, Zack Diamond was obviously inadequate to the task of running what was
Oh, she had taught him. Arthur had been bright beyond words. He had picked up every scrap of knowledge his aunt would bring him. But nothing he did could make up for what Emily had considered the derailment of her career. The Katzenbaum Institute did not make allowances for its scientists with young children at home. In spite of her brilliance, she was bypassed for the big projects, demoted to the second tier of players, removed from the inner circle.
For this she blamed Arthur. And though she had dutifully kept her humiliating job as a second-rate employee of the institute in order to support the unwanted infant who had been dumped into her lap, she had never held him in her arms, nor sung him a lullaby, nor dried his tears. In the early years of his disappearance, she had wondered if he had missed those things.
Of course he had, she told herself a thousand times since he had gone.
Still, he had not left out of hatred for her. The fact that she had been a terrible guardian was actually quite coincidental to his necessity to leave. There had been people who would have harmed Arthur if they had found him. Going to the police had not been an option. If it had not been for Hal Woczniak, Arthur surely would have died long before the hotel fire in Tangier.
Emily had given up trying to get Arthur back. She understood that he was special, more special than anyone knew except for Hal. The boy belonged with him.
She had never explained that to either of them. That was going to be Emily's gift to them at the hotel in Tangier: She was going to let Hal know that he had done right by the boy. She was going to tell Arthur that she knew about the cup, that he wouldn't have been safe with Emily, that the circumstances in which they had found themselves had made ordinary life impossible.
And that she loved him. But the fire had rendered all that moot.
Now, everyone who had been after them was dead. And the cup, that magical, wicked thing that had come to Arthur Blessing during the tenth year of his life and made sure he would never have a normal life again, had been safely hidden at last.
Hidden to others. Perhaps all others. But Emily knew exactly where it was.
It was in Miller's Creek.
Chapter Seven
THE GODS AT PLAY
S he had known it since she first read about the healing water in Dawning Falls. The first articles, humorous stories about gigantic pumpkins and dairy cows that produced extraordinary quantities of milk, began to appear shortly after Arthur's surprise appearance on television, after which he had vanished without a trace.
The second spate of articles was about an unassuming young man named Zack Diamond, who had recently bought the land containing Miller's Creek. Skeptical journalists had pointed out that the so-called healing properties of the water had begun to occur right after Mr. Diamond had taken ownership of the creek. Some sort of moneymaking scheme was suspected, but a thorough check on Diamond revealed a young man of high ideals whose single oddity seemed to be that he had undergone a near-death experience during a catastrophe involving a building collapsing into a sinkhole in Manhattan.
As soon as she learned that, Emily traveled immediately to Dawning Falls and walked without knocking into the tumbledown frame house built on Miller's Creek.
"Oh, hi," Diamond had said as he looked up from a two-foot stack of papers on a desk made of a hollow-core door laid over two empty file cabinets. Books and notes to himself were scattered all over the room as if they had been blown about by the wind.
Diamond himself was far younger than Emily had expected, and there was nothing in his manner to indicate that he was in any way knowledgeable about business, which was the sad truth. Motivated only by a desire to help mankind, Zack Diamond was obviously inadequate to the task of running what was
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