“I come from the European branch of Harlequins and we have close ties with Christianity. In fact, some Harlequins read farther in the book of John. After Jesus was taken away, Peter-”

“-backed out on Jesus.” Hollis turned away from the stove. “He was a disciple, but he denied his Lord three times.”

“The legend is that Harlequins are damned by this. Because Peter didn’t stay loyal at that moment, we must defend the Travelers until the end of time.”

“Sounds like you don’t buy that,” Hollis said.

“It’s just a story in the Bible. I don’t accept it for myself, but I do believe that there is a secret history of the world. There have always been warriors defending pilgrims or other spiritual seekers. During the Crusades, a group of Christian knights began to protect the pilgrims traveling to the Holy Land. Baldwin II, the crusader king of Jerusalem, let these knights occupy part of the former Jewish temple. They began to call themselves the Poor Knights of Christ and Knights of the Temple of Solomon.”

“Weren’t they usually called the Templars?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes, that’s the common name. The Templars became a rich, powerful order that controlled churches and castles throughout Europe. They owned ships and would lend money to European kings. Eventually the Templars stopped occupying the Holy Land and started to defend people who made spiritual journeys. They developed connections with heretical groups, the Bogomils in Bulgaria and the Cathars in France. These people were Gnostics who believed that the soul is trapped within the body. Only individuals given a secret knowledge are able to escape this prison and enter into different realms.”

“Then the Templars were destroyed,” Gabriel said.

Maya nodded slowly, as if reminding herself of a story she had learned long ago. “King Philip of France feared their power and wanted to seize their treasury. In 1307, he sent his troops into the Templar headquarters and arrested them for heresy. The grand master of the Templars was burned at the stake and the order ceased to exist-publicly. But only a few Templars were killed. Most of them went underground and continued their activities.”

“Lunchtime,” Hollis said. He set a plate of sandwiches on the table and Vicki finished making the fruit salad. Everyone sat down and began eating. Maya had relaxed slightly, but it was still an uncomfortable atmosphere. The Harlequin stared at Gabriel as if she was trying to decide if he had the power to cross over. Gabriel seemed to know what she was thinking. He looked down at his plate and picked at his food.

“But why are you called Harlequins?” Hollis asked Maya. “Isn’t that some kind of actor with a painted face, like a clown?”

“We took that name in the seventeenth century. The Harlequin is one of the characters in Italian commedia dell’arte, usually a clever servant. The Harlequin character wears a costume with diamond shapes. Sometimes he plays the lute or carries a wooden sword. The Harlequin always wears a mask, concealing his identity.”

“But that’s an Italian name,” Hollis said. “I was told that Harlequins used to be in Japan and Persia and just about every other place in the world.”

“In the seventeenth century, the European Harlequins began to contact warriors from other cultures who were also defending Travelers. Our first alliance was with the Sikhs living in the Punjab. Like the Harlequins, devout Sikhs carry a ritual sword called a kirpan. Around the same time, we also made alliances with Buddhist and Sufi warriors. In the eighteenth century, we were joined by an order of Jewish fighters in Russia and Eastern Europe that defended rabbis who studied the Kabbalah.”

Vicki turned to Gabriel. “Lion of the Temple, the Harlequin who defended the Prophet, came from a Jewish family.”

Hollis looked amused. “You know, I’ve been in that town in Arkansas where they lynched Isaac Jones. Thirty years ago, the NAACP and some Jewish group got together and put up a plaque in honor of Zachary Goldman. They make it like a peace-and-love brotherhood thing because this Harlequin killed two racist bastards with a crowbar.”

“Was there ever a Harlequin gathering?” Gabriel asked. “Did the different groups ever meet in one room?”

“That would never happen. Harlequins respect the randomness of battle. We don’t like rules. Harlequin families are connected to each other by marriage, tradition, and friendship. Some families have been allies for hundreds of years. We don’t have elected leaders or a constitution. There’s just a Harlequin way of looking at the world. Some Harlequins fight because it’s our destiny. Some of us fight to defend freedom. I’m not talking about the opportunity to buy fourteen different kinds of toothpaste or the insanity that drives a terrorist to blow up a bus. True freedom is tolerant. It gives people the right to live and think in new ways.”

“I still want to know about ‘Damned by the flesh, saved by the blood,’” Hollis said. “Whose blood are you talking about? The Tabula, the Harlequins, or the Travelers?”

“Take your pick,” Maya said. “Maybe it’s everyone.”

THERE WAS ONLY one bedroom in the house. Hollis proposed that the two women share the bed while he and Gabriel sleep in the living room. Vicki could tell that Maya didn’t like the idea. Now that she had found Gabriel, she seemed uncomfortable when he wasn’t in her sight.

“It’ll be okay,” Vicki whispered. “Gabriel is only a few feet away. We can leave the door open if you want. Besides, Hollis has the rifle.”

“Hollis is a mercenary. I don’t know how much he’s willing to sacrifice.”

Maya walked several times from the living room to the bedroom as if she was memorizing the position of the doorways and walls. Then she went into the bedroom and slid the blades of her two knives between the box spring and the mattress. Both handles were sticking out. If she dropped her hand down, she could instantly pull a knife from its sheath. Finally she got into bed, and Vicki lay on the other side of the mattress.

“Good night,” Vicki said, but Maya didn’t answer her.

Vicki had slept with her older sister and various cousins during vacations and was used to their restless movements. Maya was different in every way. The Harlequin lay flat on her back with her hands clenched into fists. It looked as if an immense weight was pushing down on her body.

When Maya woke up the next morning she saw a black cat with a white throat sitting on the dresser. “What do you want?” she whispered, but didn’t get an answer. The cat jumped down onto the floor, glided through the doorway, and left her alone.

She heard voices and peered out the bedroom window. Hollis and Gabriel were standing in the driveway, inspecting the damaged motorcycle. Buying a new tire meant a monetary transaction and contact with a business that was connected to the Vast Machine. The Tabula would know all about the damaged bike and activate their computer search programs to monitor motorcycle tire sales in the Los Angeles area.

Considering her next move, she went into the bathroom and took a quick shower. The finger shields that had gotten her through United States immigration were starting to peel off her index fingers like dead skin. She got dressed, strapped both knives onto her arms, and checked her other weapons. The black cat reappeared when she left the bathroom and led her into the hallway. Vicki was washing dishes in the sink.

“I see you met Garvey.”

“Is that his name?”

“Yes. He doesn’t like to be touched, and he doesn’t purr. I don’t think that’s normal.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Maya said. “I never had a pet.”

There was a coffeemaker on the counter. Maya poured coffee into a bright yellow mug and mixed in some cream.