“Cyrene, check the map,” I said, flipping on the overhead light and clamping my foot down on the accelerator in order to catch up. “See if there are any major towns coming up.”

“Not immediately, but Santa Cristina is about seven kilometers from here.” She looked up, a happy smile on her face. “That’s on a lake that’s fed by my spring. I can pop over and detoxify it quickly, and take care of that item on my list. Oh! I should call Thalassa back.”

Maata made an almost inaudible intake of breath at Cyrene’s words, but all my senses were on red alert as I wove in and out of traffic, my eyes searching the blackness ahead for a pair of familiar taillights.

I shot her a quick look, but her face was impassive. “What’s in Santa Cristina?” I asked.

She hesitated for the count of ten. “That is where Fiat Blu has his home.”

“Oh, really? How very interesting.” My mind sorted through the pertinent facts as the car raced through the night. I hoped the police weren’t overly vigilant, since there was no way I was going to stop for anything short of nuclear war. What was Baltic—assuming the mysterious dragon really was him—doing in Fiat’s territory? And if it was him, how on earth had he come back from the dead?

Before I had long to mull over those questions, the exit to Santa Cristina was upon us . . . with no sign of the sports car.

“What do we think—should we chance it that he got off at this exit, or keep on the highway and try to catch up with him?” I asked as I swerved onto the shoulder to go around a slow car that insisted on straddling two lanes.

“Get off, get off!” Cyrene cried as she pulled herself up from where she’d been once again flung onto the floor. “I’m going to be one big bruise at this rate!”

“I think it’s a coincidence that’s hard to overlook,” Maata said.

I agreed, and jerked the car off the exit at the last minute, scattering apologies as Cyrene squawked.

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

“Do you know the way to Fiat’s house?” I asked Maata as we careened around a corner, zipping around the outskirts of the town.

“I’ve never been there, no. But I know it looks over the lake and has an extensive underground structure.”

“Where there’s a lake and underground structures, there are tunnels and grottoes,” my twin said, straightening her clothing.

“I’m inclined to think the back way is easier to get into,” I agreed, pulling up to a stop at a gas station. “Let’s see if we can get an address for Fiat; then we’ll tackle him from the lake side.”