Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he offered his big, callused palm to her. She took it, reveling in his warmth and strength in the instant before the power flowed through her, overwhelming all other sensations. She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, seeking the distinctive sharp emanations of the metal object she sought. There. Off to her left.
She started. “It’s close.”
“How far?”
“A few miles at most.”
Rustam swore quietly under his breath. “If you’re right and your map is on a ship, we’d better make our way down to the shore right away.”
The ride down the hill was wild, with the horses sitting practically on their haunches and sliding down the slope as much as walking down it. When they finally got to the water’s edge, she was surprised to see that the beach, such as it was, was mostly boulders scattered upon the shore as if a giant hand had tossed them there. This land certainly was conducive to legends of gods and mythic heroes.
She cast a sidelong glance at Rustam and smiled. She, for one, knew where the stories of guys like Zeus and Apollo came from.
“What?” he asked in response to her silent look.
“I was just wondering if you or others of your kind are the source of certain mythic characters from the human literary tradition. In particular a man called Hercules.”
“The legendary hero who did the various labors?”
“That’s the one.”
Rustam shook his head. “Silly children’s tales.”
“Those tales will survive until my time and beyond. Maybe not so silly, after all.”
“In my travels, I have found that most myths and legends have at least some basis in fact. I’m convinced that primitive cultures use fictional stories to explain away actual occurrences they are not yet ready to understand or accept as real.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to tell me that magic and fairies and the abominable snowman really exist?”
“In some form or another, yes.”
She snorted. “I wish magic existed. I would wave my wand and find that stupid map.”
“And then what?” he asked.
The question brought her up short. “And then I’ll go home, of course.”
He nodded slowly. “Of course. And how are you planning to get there?”
He asked the question lightly, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he would be intensely interested in her answer. She gave him the response she’d carefully crafted over the past few days. “I have a small device. It’s like a pager and sends a one-way signal. Are you familiar with what that is?”
He nodded tersely. “So you activate this signal, and then what?”
“Then the scientists back home in their lab do their thing and pull me home.”
“You don’t power the jump yourself?”
“Heavens, no!” she exclaimed. “I’m just a simple psychic who can find stuff. I’ll be along for the ride when it’s time to go.”
He frowned thoughtfully. She wished she knew more about time travel and could ask him a few intelligent questions about what thoughts were racing through his head so fast his ears were all but smoking.
But he changed subjects abruptly, surprising her. “What do you plan to do when the Persian fleet sails by?”
She frowned. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to isolate which ship has the map on it. Then I have to find some way to get out to that vessel.”
He grunted. “You think you can just flag it down and it’ll pull over to pick you up?”
“When you put it that way, no, I don’t suppose that would work.” The corner of his mouth curled sardonically, and she added, “Gimme a break. I’m winging it here. Next order of business is to get on the right ship and find the damned thing. Then I’ll worry about getting it back.”