The air smelled of wet grass and car exhaust—a strange mix of nature and civilization that reminded King of more than a couple battle zones. But it was mildly cool and comfortable, despite the dreary weather.

“Sorry if I blasted you,” the tour guide said as she exited the bus. She was tall, all smiles, and had a tangy British accent. Her short brown hair was partially tied back in a ponytail. When she smiled, her thin eyes became squints and her lips became slivers of pink. “Saw you gabbin’ on your cell.”

“Ah, no worries luv,” Alexander said.

King flinched and glanced at Alexander. While his accent was spot on, they hadn’t discussed any kind of cover.

“Locals are ya?” she asked.

“Born an raised in Amesbury,” Alexander replied. “But my friend here’s a highlander fresh out of the mountains. Never seen the stones before.”

“Ohh,” she said flirtatiously, sidling up next to King. “A Scotsman, eh?”

King did his best not to roll his eyes and said, “Aye.”

“Well if you have any questions about Stonehenge, I’m the one to talk to. Never mind the guides in there,” she said, motioning to the visitor’s center. “They’re dead from the neck up.”

King couldn’t help but smile at the woman. Making sure to keep his accent, he said, “Are all the lassies in London this highfalutin?”

She gave King a funny look and laughed. He knew he was laying on the Highlander role-play a little thick, but he intended to come off as flirtatious. Given the broad smile on the woman’s face, he was succeeding.

“I just know my shit is all,” she said and then motioned to her bus. “Been top banana on this crimson cruiser for five years now. And no one knows more about the wonders of Wiltshire County than me. It’s why I get top whack for my tours.” She nudged King in the ribs. “But I’ll give you handsome gents a first-rate tour on the house.”

King extended his hand. “The name’s Calum. And my counterpart here is Humphrey.”

The woman giggled. “Bit of an old-fashioned name, eh?”

“He’s older than he looks,” King said.

She shook his hand. “Lauren Henderson. Owner and operator of London Hills Tours.”

“You know,” King said. “There is something I’ve been wondering about.”

Lauren cocked her head to the side. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“I’ve asked Humph a few times, but when it comes to history, he’s something of a dolt.”

Alexander chuckled and began wandering toward the tunnel entrance, scanning the parking lot, the visitors, and the site across the street. While listening to the conversation, he was also watching for anything unusual. King and Lauren followed him.

“Are there any examples of words, umm, spoken language being used to manipulate the elements?”