The Pegassian Order

2. Uninvited

Chapter Two

Rafi leaned on his motorbike and bit into an apple. He savoured the swirl of robust juices as they hit his taste buds. He glanced at the Acropolis. Elliot, or who he referred to simply as ‘Mara', had been inside for fifteen minutes now. She had instructed him to be on lookout for anything suspicious, their golden rule being the same as always, ‘Every man for himself’. Though when either Mara or he had been faced with the choice to abandon the other and flee, they chose against it.

The only exception being the last time he saw her. In his defence, he had managed to get her to the hospital first and stayed with her until the doctors gave the all clear, but last time had proven too much for Rafi. The wave of emotion that eclipsed him when she went into withdrawal caught him off-guard. Even though it was her own doing, he was worried. He didn't want to lose her. More importantly, he didn’t like getting caught off-guard, in their line of work that was how things usually went wrong.

Mara always left him conflicted, and yet he could never bring himself to turn down the opportunity of working with her. She was a lot of things, some of them being trouble and unpredictable, but she was also brilliant and brought a dogged determination to the table that made her better than most treasure hunters. Finishing the apple off, he tossed it into a dented black bin which was already filled to the rim with cigarette butts and tourist maps.

Rafi often mused at the human desire to know. Be it secrets, be it knowledge, or be it history. People loved to know things, they had to know things. Is that what got Mara's sister into trouble too? Her desire to unearth things somebody didn't want dug up? Chloe represented everything Mara might have been had she not been so damaged by her mother's abrupt death. He had never quite understood why, but Mara seemed to blame herself for it.

The sound of boots striking the ground made him lift his head to find Mara approaching with the purposeful expression she wore when she had found a map to treasure or when she discovered an obscure fact about some lost civilisation nobody had ever heard of. Except for him of course.

He glanced at her hopeful emerald eyes and her chestnut coloured hair which had been swept up into a messy bun with a few strands dangling here and there, and he realised it had been months since he had seen her. A pang of guilt hit him. What an occasion to be re-united for, he thought. His hand drifted to the rosary beads, which felt cool against his skin.

‘Find anything?’ He queried.

‘Kind of.’ Her unsure answer made him curious as she climbed onto the bike and started it up. He climbed on. He hated it when she did this. She assumed he was somehow psychic and had to be prompted to elaborate. For Rafi it highlighted the fact that there was a gap in his knowledge, it was annoying.

‘Kind of?’

‘She had an exhibition opening night coming up, The Tragedy of the Goddess.’

‘She kept the project under wraps. A lot of people are curious about what she's going to reveal. She's invited reporters and police too.’ Rafi said, doing his best to maintain his balance as Mara suddenly brought the bike to a halt. She turned and studied him intently, her face was a combination of dismay and surprise.

‘That's why you were already in Greece. You got an invite.’

The sentence felt more like an accusation as Mara turned off the engine then climbed off the bike so she had a better angle from which to shoot him glares, at least that's what he assumed.

‘You… didn't?’ He asked, feeling like he was in a minefield.

Mara folded her arms then scoffed, shaking her head to herself.

‘Mara, from what I remember, it's not like you guys were close.’ Rafi reasoned, treading lightly.

‘But this was her dream since she was little.’ Mara said, ‘and now…’ She trailed off, shaking her head again as if dismissing the emotions that threatened to brew in her chest.

‘We used to be.’ Mara said.

‘What?’

‘Close.’ Mara's eyes stayed glued to the ground, and her folded arms gave off a standoffish vibe. Rafi had known her long enough to know what this meant, she was about to shut him out. She did this from time to time, to keep it together. He didn’t really mind, everybody had a coping mechanism. His was to meditate on the problem until he worked out what the solution was, Mara’s was to shut down. Keep the outsiders outside. To Mara everyone was an outsider, even him.

‘It's my turn. Where are we headed?’ Rafi piped up.

He patted her elbow, forcing her arm and key holding palm to jut upward and send the keys up into the night sky. He snatched them out of the air and climbed onto the bike before Mara could object. Mara walked over to him and took a seat behind him.

‘Her apartment.’

Her hands clutched at the edges of his shirt as the bike leaned right then left, weaving through the city which at night was lit by bright yellow lights and the hustle and bustle of music and celebration.

Rafi had kept in touch with Chloe after he learnt of Mara's self-destructive streak, in case he ever needed to notify family of bad news. The idea of family was important to Rafi, it was something he managed to cherish without ever having it, a quality that led to him having a broad network of loyal friends.

He had accepted the invitation in secret hopes of finding a new project for himself. After he left Mara at the hospital, he had struggled to entertain himself or lose himself in other quests. Being preoccupied was completely alien to him. He never used to have a problem losing himself in his work. But after he almost lost her, it had somehow ripped the Middle Eastern adventurer's head out of the crumbling ruins and ancient texts and slammed him firmly back onto the ground with the rest of the world.

Mara remained silent for the remainder of the journey, disrupting the quiet to direct now and then. Rafi was starting to realise how much he had missed this, just roaming through the streets together, whether in pursuit of something, or whether they themselves were being pursued. Regardless, Rafi and Mara had a colourful past which had started from a place of deep mistrust and grown into a mutual bond of trusting that the other person wanted the treasure as much as you, and the pay out of course. Why else did people do anything?

‘That's the place.’ Mara's voice chimed in his ear, her warm breath was soothing against the evening air as it pushed against them. He slowed down the bike and parked by the curb. He turned and saw a clumsily maintained building block made of white stone with thick black rails guarding each of the several balconies protruding from the windowed walls.

A few of the windows were boarded up, and some of the balconies were being used as drying stands with clothes dangling from them.

‘Interesting choice.’ Rafi quipped.

‘It's right next to the historical archives building.’ Mara explained, eyeing the apartments as the pair approached the black metal doors. Rafi shoved the door, it didn't budge. He shoved it again with such force it let out a groan and quivered but didn't move as much as an inch.

‘Brains or beauty, can't have both.’ Mara sighed. She crouched and lifted a small latch near the bottom of the gate. Rafi flinched as Mara straightened up. She locked eyes with him and smirked before placing a boot on the door and pushing it open. He hated her smugness, but was glad to see it. He could only imagine how worried she must have been about Chloe.

‘Follow me.’ Mara advised.

‘Always.’ Rafi grumbled as he climbed the staircase and ducked down a narrow corridor which was sparsely decorated and had a single broken light hanging from the ceiling. The glass from it was still on the ground. Mara was about to step on it when Rafi grasped her arm and yanked her back.

‘Wait. It’s a precaution. Look at the way the glass is only in front of that door but the broken light is two feet that way.’ He said, pointing at a pale blue door with the numbers ‘23a’ in silver dangling across the middle. Mara glanced around the hallway. He was right. Chloe’s apartment door was too far from the light for the glass to burst and land in front of it. Her door was also the last door in the hallway. It was a long dash back to civilisation if anything went wrong.

Stepping to the side of the door and pressing her back against the smooth white wall paper, Mara pulled out a pocket knife and selected a flat blade from it. She removed her jacket and wrapped it around her hand and forearm. Clasping the door handle, she wedged the blade between the silver handle and the door frame.

The door cracked open, sliding ajar. Rafi gave her a warning look. It was clear he thought breaking in was a bad idea, but Mara always did what Mara wanted to do. She gestured at him to wait outside, before he could object she had disappeared into the apartment. Rafi braced himself for the grunting and crashing that often followed when they broke in somewhere. Mara was excellent at starting fights. Another thing he hated about her.

‘They were here.’ Mara’s concerned voice was tinged with anger. Rafi stepped over the broken glass and entered the apartment. His eyes moved from the dark brown walls to the pearly white tapestries and paintings lining them, among which were some maps. On the floor there was an incomplete sculpture of a horse. The attention to detail was impressive.

His eyes drifted to Mara, who was standing by an open window and looking at the overturned furniture.

‘Chloe doesn't know how to fight.’ She said.

‘Then we have to hope they came when she wasn't home.’ Rafi suggested. Mara looked at him as she crouched by another broken sculpture. It was in several pieces, which she initially took to have once been the face of a person but on second thought, the textured chunks suggested it was reptilian, a snake perhaps.

‘Medusa, maybe?’ Rafi asked, his eyes narrowing as his fingers rubbed the pieces, pressing them against his skin. ‘They’re still soft.’ He added.

‘What's Medusa got to do with this?’ Mara asked herself, not caring who could hear. She looked at the place her sister was calling home and felt dread brewing in her gut. What would somebody want with an academic interested in Greek mythology?

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Footsteps ground against the broken shards of glass in the hallway. Somebody was approaching. Fast on her feet, Mara grabbed Rafi by the arm and ducked into a small storage cupboard, shutting the door behind them. She planted her hand over Rafi's mouth as he opened it to object. He glared at her, placing his hand over hers, ready to rip it away but his annoyed expression faded the instant he heard the footsteps. He released his hold on her hand.

The pair stood close together in the tiny space, each afraid the slightest movement would dislodge the mop that leaned precariously against the wall with its head in the tin bucket, on the ground beside them.

The bucket dug into the back of her leg, and Mara placed a hand against Rafi's chest to steady herself. She found comfort in the strong and steady beat of his heart. She could feel Rafi's chest gently rising and falling with his every breath. His beard grazed the tip of her nose as she turned her head to peer through the narrow wooden slits which allowed the smallest beams of light into the cupboard.

Mara held her breath and watched the shadow grow taller as it entered through the open front door. Lifting her gaze to the doorway, the first thing she saw was the glimmer of the gun.