"Yeah, it was a bizarre dream, huh?"

"Did you have sex with her—in the dream?" Suzette asked.

Drew grinned. "No, I was so cool, you would have loved it. I told her where to get off."

"You know…" Suzette began.

"What?"

"It's just funny. Really strange."

"What's funny?"

They both looked up. Doug had come out. He, too, was wearing sunglasses. He had on a long-sleeved shirt. It wasn't buttoned, but he was holding it closed.

He looked the worst of the three of them, Suzette decided.

Drew let out a long sigh. "Suzette is putting me in a sane frame of mind."

"Oh? How?" Doug sat down at the end of Drew's towel.

"She's reminding me that Gema just about thought I was a red-headed eunuch."

"Gema?" Doug said.

Drew let out a dry laugh. "I had a liquor-enhanced fantasy dream that Gema came to my door and nearly ripped her clothes off, just trying to get in. But I told her… well, I think I basically told her she was a bitch and we didn't want to see her. I didn't let her get past my front door. Weird, huh?"

Doug flushed. Odd—he looked red, because he had looked so pale. "Weird—you bet, weird."

"Thanks—so you think she'd as soon sleep with a spitting camel as me, too, huh?"

Doug shook his head. "I had the same dream—only I did let her in the front door."

"What?" Suzette exploded.

"Well, she didn't come to me front door," Doug explained.

"She fell down from heaven?" Drew said sarcastically.

But Doug didn't smile or laugh. "She came to my back doors… you know, the loft glass doors." His color deepened. "The next thing I knew…" He glanced at Suzette, then shrugged again. "She was in my boxers."

"Wow," Drew murmured. "I wonder which was the bigger fantasy—me kicking her out, or you actually getting it on with her!"

"It wasn't a good dream," Doug murmured. "It was weird, and I woke up feeling… weird. Headache.

Like I hadn't slept at all, and I was…"

"You were what?" Suzette demanded, nearly pouncing on him.

"Nothing. Forget I said that," Doug said quickly.

"I will not forget!"

"Suzette, I'm not about to say—"

"Listen," she said, "and maybe this will make you feel better. I've been having these really, really weird sexual fantasy things going on here, too. I dream about this guy… and in the dream, I know him, know I shouldn't be fooling around with him, but he looks at me, and does things to me and… they're like the most erotic things ever. When I wake up, it's like it happened, but I can't remember who I was meeting… or who came to me door, or just appeared, or whatever. I keep thinking the guy is Italian, but maybe he's not. So… dammit, Doug, what?"

"I woke up with my boxers knotted around my ankles," he said.

Drew burst out laughing.

"Hey!" Doug protested in a growing fury. "Like you really would have thrown Gema out—no matter what a bitch she might be—if she'd gotten that close to you. A piece of ass is a piece of ass, right?"

"Doug!" Suzette said primly.

"Sorry, we're talking about Gema. Who is a bitch. And would sleep with the right guy to get ahead. She might have invented the damn casting couch," Doug said. "I said it from the beginning. The whole thing was… weird!"

"Um, well, it gets weirder," Suzette said. They both stared at her. "I could have sworn that Gema was here last night."

"What?" Drew said hoarsely.

"I didn't talk to her or anything, and I could have been wrong. I was on stage, looking toward the rear of the café. I thought I saw her, standing at the doorway between the café door and the little hallway into the lobby of the resort. I told Stephanie, but she never met Gema, so even if she'd still been there, Stephanie couldn't have said, hell, yes, that's Gema."

Drew looked at Doug. "Do you think she could have really been here?"

Doug shook his head. "No… when I woke up, it was all too vague. It was a dream. It had to have been!"

"How the hell did we both have the same dream?" Drew demanded.

"Well, we didn't. You threw her out, I had sex," Doug reminded him.

"But what if she was here?" Suzette mused.

"Then Doug definitely had a better night with her than I did," Drew said. "Hell, and I was laughing at you, Doug."

Doug stared out at the water, not smiling. He shuddered, almost imperceptibly. "No… there was something… not right about it."

"What the hell do you think all this means?" Suzette asked. "You both dreaming about Gema—and she couldn't have been here. We didn't see her after the show. Arturo didn't see her—he would have mentioned it. But you both dream about sex with her—"

"Hot, wet, steamy, luscious sex," Doug corrected lightly.

"Okay, okay, don't get carried away," Suzette said. "While I have these fantasies about a passionate Adonis who… I don't know how he gets there, either, but he's in my room. Anyway, a good doctor would probably have a heyday with us. What do you think it means?"

Doug and Drew looked at one another, and suddenly grinned.

"What?" Suzette demanded.

"Shall I?" Drew asked Doug.

"Yep, you go ahead."

Drew stared at Suzette. "It means we're sex-starved. We're wonderful, healthy adults with raging sex drives, and they're sadly going to waste. It means, Suzette, that you need to invite us over—both of us.

One at a time—we don't need to get kinky or anything."

She stared at him, and realized he was teasing her. She managed a smile. Then she got the cap off her water bottle and squirted him with it.

"Hey!"

"Weird. You two are weird, all right! In your dreams!" she said.

But then, they all stared at one another.

It was all in their dreams.

"The earthquake, of course, was documented," Carlo said, walking with Stephanie, Grant, Clay, and Liz around the expanse of the site. "The names of the Norman lords are documented, along with the battles they fought, and so on and so on. This was like a jumping-off place for the Holy Lands, so it was natural that tremendous forces came through here. As a matter of fact, to this day, you'll find that there are a number of French surnames here along with the Italian. A few English, a few Spanish… but then, of course, most of the English nobility was actually Norman, or French, so those rather combine. We know that there was a Norman lord named Conan de Burgh. We know he had conquered vast lands, and that the people hailed him as something of a hero—apparently, the conquering lord was better than the one they'd been born to serve. We know as well, it's documented, that François de Venue—a half cousin, or illegitimate brother or cousin—of the king of France came here as well. There was tremendous friction between them. De Burgh had finished with his battles and wanted to settle down to a life of prosperity.

Nominally, he still served his king in France. De Venue apparently thought that de Burgh owed him homage. This we know through historical documentation. That they were both killed when the earthquake struck is assumed because their names disappear from the historic logs. The legends that abound are sheer romance, and yet, this dig may well prove that there was a lot of fact to the tales. An earthquake buried them all, and an earthquake is bringing them all back to light."

"Fascinating!" Liz said.

"I agree. We've been stopped for the last few days, but as you can see—" He pointed. There were a number of different areas roped off low to the ground with differently colored ties, all indicating something to the archeologists, Stephanie was certain. People were working away in their little plots and areas.

Some had apparatuses that looked like giant sifters—the type of equipment someone might have if they were panning for gold out West.

Some had small hoes or tiny, trowel-like shovels. And some had brushes. Small brushes.

"As you can see," Carlo Ponti continued, "we are back to work."

Despite his poorly masked antipathy for Clay, Grant changed at the site. Clay asked questions. Grant did love this work. He answered when he could.

Clay looked up at the cliffs that rose above the site.

"The final battle took place just above, then?" he queried.

"There, up above. The fighting was here, and all around," Carlo told him. "Sometimes, it's hard to piece together exactly what happened, because the earth has shifted several times. The fighting was here.

Conan de Burgh had a fortress just east and south of where the club is now—he would have ridden from there. François de Venue was inland. These cliffs are riddled with caves, so it's likely he kept arms, perhaps hid spies, and used some of the labyrinth within for various purposes. The orders from the king of France were for the men to divide the area. Most historians believe that de Venue never intended to obey such an order. He meant to dominate Conan de Burgh and seize control of the entire area. Since they clashed here, it's likely that was the case. Since de Burgh did put down the attack before dying himself, the status of the people here was maintained. The cliffs have been used for every war and insurrection since, naturally."

"So, have you gotten into the cliffs yet?" Clay asked.

"No, we have found such a rich field here, where the armies fought, we have worked hard to find all we can before the earth decides to shift again," Carlo said. "Eventually, we will get into the caves. But for now… it's slow work. Very tedious. Grant can tell you. And as for me, I am most anxious to find the body of Conan de Burgh, and we believe we are close. Naturally, we are also searching for the remains of de Venue—and his Valeria." He grimaced. "So far, we've found nothing to suggest the remains of