He took the stone from the box, held it up. The flames reflected off the diamond, and Saleem looked into its depth. He could swear he saw marauders riding horses, heard their screams as the dust rose beneath their hooves, heard the steel swords clashing and clanging.
Saleem jumped back, but his grandfather’s hand was hard on his arm, and he pulled him close again. He smiled. “The stone speaks to you, Saleem, for you are the rightful descendent.
“Look. Now you will see the effect it has on me. Holding the stone makes me young again, heals my broken heart.”
Saleem stared. Gone was the old man, and in his place was another, younger man bursting with health.
“Grandfather, what has happened?”
His grandfather didn’t answer him. He set the stone back in the box, and the din died down. The latch clicked shut of its own accord.
Then he said, “Without its brothers, it won’t heal me for more than a moment.” Saleem watched him drain of life again and become once more gray and slack and smell of death.
“This is only one piece of the original stone. The most secret piece, one no one knows of except the carriers of the stone’s blood. You are a carrier, Saleem, and with my death, it falls to your father, and to you. You must fulfill your destiny, Saleem. You must unite the three stones.”
“If you had the three stones, Grandfather, would you be well and young again? Would you never die?”
“Do not think like that, Saleem. Each man’s life must have a beginning and an end.”
62
Young Saleem was confused. “I don’t understand, Grandfather.”
“I mean a man should not extend his life through magic. Let me tell you the story of the three stones.” The old man took a sip of his tea. “The original diamond was cleaved in two by our ancestor, Emperor Aurangzeb. He owned the stone, as his father and grandfather had before him. Word spread of the stone’s value, and it became known throughout the lands. It was written that the stone’s value could sustain the world for two days. The entire world, not only a small part of it, Saleem. You realize what this means? If you held the stone, you would be seen as a god, and so he was.
“Holding the stone also gave Aurangzeb the sight. He knew what was coming, knew his kingdom would be ransacked, his diamond stolen from him, and the lands would fall to strangers and he would not be able to prevent it. He came up with a plan. He engaged the Italian lapidary Borgio to cut the stone, ostensibly so that it would be made more beautiful and be remarked upon by all with more envy and awe.
“Publicly, it was said that Borgio mangled the job, taking the incredible seven-hundred-and-ninety-three-carat diamond down to a mere hundred eighty-three carats. Despite the huge mistake, Aurangzeb displayed this smaller stone for the world’s amazement.
“Privately, however, Borgio had been instructed to cleave the stone into two parts. Aurangzeb kept the larger piece for himself. He placed it in a small rosewood box for his descendants and hid it until he was dying and told his son, and so it passed from generation to generation.”
He tapped a long finger on the rosewood box on the table.
“Later, when the British stole the smaller stone, now called the Koh-i-Noor, from Duleep Singh, your great-great-great-grandfather, they cut it further still, to make it pretty for the paltry British.
“Hear me well, young Saleem. The stone cannot be destroyed. And the dust from this final cut was gathered into a bag, and overnight, it healed itself, and thus became the third brother.”
The old man coughed, and Saleem gave him more tea, wiped his chin. He sank back in his chair, his voice growing softer and further away.
“Not only will it forever heal itself, it will heal man, as well.” He pointed at the box. “This is only one piece of the original stone, the largest, as I’ve told you. You must find the other two and unite them. If you cannot, it is your sacred duty to pass this piece of the precious diamond and the truth behind it to your son, so he may continue the quest. Why have I told you, instead of waiting for your father to pass the legend along?” His grandmother smiled, a funny smile that made Saleem want to laugh. “I do not believe in chance, Saleem. I believe in redundancy. Now both descendants know. It is safest, I think.”
Saleem was very quiet. He was confused and upset. All this talk of stones and death and healing, he did not know what to make of it. His grandfather was a very old man; perhaps he was raving mad. He did not understand this redundancy.
Saleem tried to pull his arm away from his grandfather’s clawed grasp, but the old man held tighter.
“The diamond’s prophecy, Saleem. You must remember the prophecy. The world only knows part of it, the curse of the Koh-i-Noor:
“He who owns this diamond will own the world,
but will also know all its misfortunes.
Only God, or a woman, can wear it with impunity.
“Only our family knows the second part of the prophecy. This is our secret:
“When Krishna’s stone is unbroken again,
the hand which holds it becomes whole.
Wash the Mountain of Light in woman’s blood,
so we will know rebirth and rejoice.”
Saleem would say anything to get away now. “I will remember.”
His grandfather’s voice strengthened, echoed throughout the room. “The stone gifted to our people by Surya through Krishna is in three pieces. The largest piece you’ve now seen for the first time. The second piece resides in Tower of London, stolen by the British marauders who knew not the true power of the stone. And the third piece, the reassembled parts from the cut Koh-i-Noor, disappeared in 1852, when Queen Victoria had the stone recut to please her people. You and your father must find the two stones and bring them home, and reunite the three stones together again.”
He fell back against the velvet chair, exhausted. His eyes closed, and Saleem wanted desperately to run from the room.
Yet he wanted to touch the gleaming stone again, hear the shouts and the screams, feel the power and the excitement.
The stone had spoken to him. He had heard its voice.
Saleem’s hand crept toward the box, and his grandfather’s eyes shot open. His voice was strong and clear.
“This is your destiny, Saleem. Your life will be consumed by this quest, as it consumed me and now consumes your father. Know this: all before you have failed. But if you do succeed, Saleem, you must see the stone home.”
“Home?”
“Back to India, to the Kollur mine. You must unite the stones and throw the diamond back into the earth, in its proper place. If you do so, our land will rise again and prosper, using its strength to make the soil strong. You will be recognized as a hero, as the one who restored us to our appropriate place of strength in the world.”
He hugged the boy to his chest.
“May luck be with you always, Saleem.”
• • •
The following day, Saleem’s father took him aside in the gardens.
“You were given your duty?”
“Yes, Papa.”
“Do you understand what it means, Saleem?”
He shook his head. “No, Papa.”
Robert Lanighan sat on a stone bench, beckoned his only son to sit beside him.
“When I was your age, your grandfather told me the story of the lost stones. I too did not understand the significance of this task. You are very young, Saleem, but it is time for you to be strong, like me.”
He’d roared then, like a lion, making young Saleem giggle.
“You try.”
Saleem roared and roared, stomping around the gardens until his father was bent over in laughter. This happiness felt better. Saleem liked to see his father laugh.
He drew him close, into a hug. “Your grandfather died last night, an hour after he passed along the legacy to you. You must always keep
him close, Saleem, in your heart. His love, and mine, will keep you pure. You are now a man of the Lanighan family. We will carry on where your grandfather left off. Somehow, we must find the missing stone and take back the Koh-i-Noor from the British. We must unite the three stones.
“One last thing, Saleem. There can be no personal gain from this quest. Always remember your role, your duty. No man himself may hold the power of the united stones. It will cause madness and despair. Only the land is capable of sheltering the diamond. If I do not succeed, and you do, you must swear to me you will see the diamond home.”
“I swear it, Father.”
And he meant every word, when he was eight years old.
Years later, when his father had fallen ill, he became frantic to obtain the two missing pieces. He commissioned thieves to steal the Koh-i-Noor from the Tower of London, but they failed again and again, until the British began to suspect who was behind it. Nor could he ever find the part of the diamond that reassembled itself after Queen Victoria’s final cut. He sent Saleem across the globe following dead leads, but the third stone always remained hidden.
At the end, when it was clear he wasn’t going to survive, he bade Saleem come to the hospital. Fragile from his illness, his skin paper white, he took Saleem’s hand in his.
“My son. I have failed. My failure means my death. I have no more time. You must dedicate yourself to the search. You know the power of the stones, and you will need it. I tell you now, bring them together and heal yourself.”
“I am fine, Father. I haven’t been sick since I was a boy.”
His father shook his head, pain flooding his eyes.
“You are not sick now, but you will be, for I have seen it. Find the third stone, Saleem, liberate the Koh-i-Noor from the British, and unite them. Only then will you save your own life.”
63
Geneva, Switzerland
Rue de Lausanne
Friday afternoon
Kitsune walked northwest through the city until she spied an anonymous street that backed to an elementary school. She followed the Rue de Navigation, through the turnstiles that accessed the walkway, stopping cars from interrupting the children at play in their schoolyard, then up a quiet one-way street.
She took a room at the Hotel Kipling, stashed her bag in the room’s safe, showered and dressed, then went next door to the Lord Jim Pub on Rue de Lausanne to have some food before the meeting with Lanighan. It was an English-style pub, full of afternoon revelers drinking microbrews and shouting their drunken opinions at a football match playing on all of the bar’s big-screen televisions. She ordered bangers and mash and wondered, as she had many times, if this would be her last meal. She saw Grant’s face and forced away the sadness and regret.
The food arrived. She forked warm mashed potatoes into her mouth, savoring the salty onion gravy, as authentically British as any she’d had near the River Thames.
She ate slowly, enjoying the meal.
Part of her preparation to steal the Koh-i-Noor diamond was to become an expert, to learn every single aspect of its storied history, even the lore. Especially the lore. She’d found deeper legends, ones she’d only half believed, rarely spoken of, long forgotten in the stone’s tragic path through documented history.
During her studies, she’d come across an old parchment that posed the idea of the three stones. When she’d read it, she’d shaken her head and dismissed the idea as absurd, possibly the result of an opium dream. Now she worked to recall the story, picking over the words to find the truth behind them.
According to the parchments, Sultan Aurangzeb was a visionary. He knew others would kill him for the diamond. To be safe, he had Borgio split the stone in two, and while publicly parading the smaller stone known as the Koh-i-Noor, he’d secreted the much larger stone in a place no one knew.
Over the centuries, this secret was passed down from father to son. While the Koh-i-Noor was fought over, bled over, stolen, and retrieved at the cost of hundreds of lives, the larger piece was kept hidden, safe, its whereabouts passed down from generation to generation.
The parchment claimed a long-ago prince’s son was born blind, and when the father pressed the stone to the child’s forehead, his sight was restored. If the stone could heal—but that was ridiculous.
Could Saleem actually believe this?
Three hundred and fifteen years later, according to the parchment, when Prince Albert had Coster cut the diamond down further, the dust was collected, placed in a velvet bag, and stowed in a safe to be used to edge a skaif to cut more diamonds. This was the normal course of things; any time a diamond was cut, the dust was collected and recycled.
The next day, when the bag was retrieved to be put into service, the young lapidary who picked it up felt something bulky within. The parchment claimed that the diamond dust had reformed into a small stone. Shaken, the fellow shared the story with his wife and fled to Germany to put the stone in his family’s safe. He was found dead on the train to Berlin, his body stripped of its treasure.
And so the third and final piece of the diamond was lost to history forever.
Three stones. A legend only the most dedicated fans of the Koh-i-Noor even knew existed. To hold the three stones in your hand was to have the power of ten thousand men. Its measure was greater than gold, and the man who owned such power would control his destiny, and the destinies of many others.
The curse, though—she had to believe it was real. Every man who’d believed himself lord and steward over the Koh-i-Noor met with a bad end. Only God or a woman could wield the power properly, that part of the warning was quite clear.
Legends. Stories meant to entertain men, to educate, to foster a desire to hunt treasures long lost to the mortal world.
One stone, cleaved into three pieces. One piece, now in her possession, sought after by a man who clearly believed in the magic of merging the three stones.
If the fragments of stories Saleem’s father had shared with her were true, his family had held the largest piece of the diamond for more than four centuries.
Kitsune knew where the third piece was hidden, because Mulvaney had told her.
Only a true descendant of the original Indian line would have the power to unite the stones.
Kitsune shook her head. She knew what the prophecy foretold, but it all seemed too incredible to believe.
She paid her bill and checked her watch. It was time to meet with Lanighan, then leave her old life behind forever.
64
Geneva, Switzerland
Hotel Beau-Rivage
Friday, early evening
One conversation thirty years ago had set him on an exhausting path. Unite the stones, and it will heal man.
To hell with man.
From his sixteenth year, Saleem wanted the god’s diamond, not for India, but for himself. Saleem’s father had been right. Saleem needed the stones united to heal himself.
He often wondered, if they had retrieved the Koh-i-Noor and its mate in time, would his grandfather have truly been healed? He’d seen the man’s face clear of its wretched pain and age when he held the one large piece, seen it with his own eyes.
Would his father, saddled with kidney disease, have lived beyond his sixtieth year?
Would Saleem himself have sickened in his teens, his body have been pumped full of the poison that put him in this desperate position now? Cured, alive, but unable to father a child?
And last month, at his annual physical, a ritual he took very seriously, his latest blood work showed an overabundance of white blood cells. The leukemia he’d battled as a teenager was back. He was running out of time.
With the three stones united, he would be healed and forever immortal. Not only would he have the Koh-i-Noor this very day, he also finally had in his possession the lost seventy-seven-carat stone from Antwerp. If his father had any i
dea his old friend Andrei Anatoly held his diamond all these years, he would have killed the man himself.
No matter. Anatoly was dead, and the smallest piece of the diamond was now safe in a Paris warehouse, awaiting its brothers.
He would return to Paris, open the locked box, marry the three stones, and be healed. Then he would sire a son.
Behind him, he heard a soft knock at his door.
65
Saleem opened the door to his suite. Two years since he’d seen her last, and she still took his breath away. But something was different, wrong. Her beauty was diminished. She was only a woman after all, not the mythical creature he remembered.
And then it hit him.
“Your eyes.”
She waved a hand in dismissal. “A necessary evil. May I come in, or are we going to do this transaction in the hallway?”
He stepped back and allowed her entrance. He stuck his head out the door, looking right, then left. The hall behind her was empty; she’d come alone, as instructed.
He shut the door and turned to see her watching him. She set her backpack down on the table and opened it.
“You have the Koh-i-Noor.”
“Of course. Let us do our business and go our separate ways. You are prepared to transfer the funds?”
“Let me see it first.”
She held out her hand. There was a small envelope, only a few inches big, inside her palm. “Money for the key.”
Saleem said, “Key? Key to what? Where is my diamond?”
“Safely stashed away where you will be able to claim it. As soon as I’ve confirmed the money is in my accounts.”
Was she indeed planning to betray him? Well, he’d been warned, and he was ready for her. “Why have you not brought the diamond to me?”