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We’ll have to collect a small fortune just to break even on this exhibit.” A certain huffiness entered his voice. “Why do you think you two were invited here? It’s not dusty artifacts that draw a good crowd. Stories get people in the door. Like your…well, the tragedy surrounding…” The large man suddenly seemed to realize to whom he was talking. He became a tad tongue-tied. He had the decency to blush around his collar and rub at his neck.
    Jake’s own face heated up, but not with embarrassment. One hand balled up into a fist as the full realization struck him. The invitation to come here wasn’t to publicize and celebrate their parents’ achievements, but to take advantage of their tragedy: to turn their loss into cold, hard cash for Bledsworth Sundries and Industries. Jake suddenly felt both foolish and angry. He and his sister had been flown all the way to London to dance like puppets for the crowd, to sell more tickets.
    Kady seemed unfazed by the revelation. She pranced onward, eager for the next dazzle of flashbulbs and attention.
    “Through here,” Drummond said, and held a door for them.
    As Jake stepped through, an amazing sight opened. A giant inner atrium stretched a full two acres, all paved in marble.
    “The Great Court,” Drummond declared. He reached into a pocket and handed out glasses with black lenses. “Eclipse goggles. You’d better wear these.”
    As Jake put on the goggles, he continued across the floor. The wings of the museum surrounded the vast courtyard on all four sides. Sweeping staircases led up to other levels. But what truly captured Jake’s attention was the roof that enclosed the courtyard itself. It was composed of triangular sections of clear glass that seemed to float above their heads, weightless and bright with sunlight.
    Jake craned his neck and stared up through the glass roof.
    The tinted goggles allowed him to stare into the full face of the eclipse without fear of being blinded. Already the moon half covered the sun. The total eclipse was not far off.
    Thunder rumbled. Jake turned and looked to the south. The front edge of the storm rolled into view.
    Would it hold off long enough?

4
THE BLACK SUN
    In a hidden corner of the museum courtyard, Jake leaned against a giant stone head from Easter Island. The statue’s heavy brow and sharp nose had been carved from black basalt. Jake matched its stern expression as he spied on the audience.
    Dressed in tuxedos and party dresses, the guests carried glasses of champagne. A waiter with a silver tray passed among them with caviar on toast points. One woman sported a diamond tiara on a tall pile of white hair. Was she royalty?
    Off to one side, Kady basked within a television camera’s spotlight. A reporter held a furry microphone toward her nose.
    “So tell the viewers of BBC One,” the reporter asked, “are you excited to visit the exhibit?”
    “Oh, certainly,” Kady answered, and turned slightly. Jake knew she was trying to highlight her best side, or atleast that was the side she’d decided this morning was her best for television.
    His sister continued her interview with much waving of her hands. She made sure she bounced on her toes a bit to get just the right flounce from her well-groomed curls.
    Jake crossed his arms. Morgan Drummond’s revelation about the true purpose of their attendance here still irked him. Just to sell more tickets . He unfolded his arms and tugged at the safari vest. He was tempted to rip it off and storm out of here. But then what? And he still had to consider his sister. Kady clearly wasn’t going anywhere.
    Jake turned in the opposite direction. Beyond the crowd, he spotted a thick red ribbon across the top of a stairway that led to the second level. A man in a top hat held an oversized set of scissors that looked like garden shears.
    “The museum curator,” Morgan Drummond said at Jake’s elbow, startling him. The large man had crept up behind him. “It won’t be much