Strangely, at first glance, there appeared to be nothing there. That is to say, the interior of the safe was solid.

Solid wood as a matter of fact, though not at all like the rough hewn timbers that comprised the floorboards. It was polished, and except for a tethered brass ring inlaid into the center, it seemed to be part of the safe itself.

Maggie slipped a finger into the ring and gently pulled upwards. The object seemed stuck, but a little extra tug loosed it from its hiding place. She pulled a far amount before it cleared its confinement, at which point she held it up before setting on the floor next to the hole from which it had come.

They both looked at it, wondering what was. It looked like a box, except for the lack of an obvious lid or hinges. From its appearance, it might as well have merely been a solid piece of wood with an inset bit of metal on the top.

“What is it?"

Edward shrugged. “Like I have a clue? I'd say it was a small chest or something similar, but it's a little too plain and simple for that."

“If it's a box, then where's the keyhole?"

He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. There was a muffled metallic ringing as of something inside, but there was nothing on the outside with the appearance of a keyhole. Or any hole for that matter. He set it back down and looked at the ring. It was dark with age, and set into another bit of brass formed into a slightly ornate circle. But it was a little more than that. The plate was decorated in the form of a wreath or a caplet.  But he couldn't see where this minimal decoration meant anything.

He stuck his finger into the ring and pulled.

 Nothing happened.

“I don't get it," he replied, feeling a little exasperated.  “There is obviously something inside, and yet, how did it get inside here? Through the hole under the plate?"

“I don't know. Maybe?"

“So I should try removing it?"

“I guess you could try. Just don't break it. I would hate to damage something of which we know nothing about."

“Should we ask someone downstairs?"

“Again, I don't know. I doubt they would know either, even if this is on their property."

“Wait. Does that mean that we're stealing?"

“Quit asking so many questions! We had the key to open the safe, so I guess that gives us a right to open the contents."

“Yippee!" he replied sarcastically. “Now we have a box that can't be opened. I'll try the ring and see if that base plate unscrews."

Edward pinched the ring between his fingers and twisted it. Amazingly, it turned while the rest of the metal remained stationary. There was a series of clicks as the ring and the barely discernible rod it was attached to rotated, but there was no sign that it was doing anything.

Maggie smiled. “Well, that's something. I wonder if it's along the lines of a combination lock."

“I don't know how helpful that would be. There aren't any numbers."

“Still, the logic carries over. There has to be some way of figuring it out."

He set the box down and stared at it for a moment.  The wreath on the brass plate did have a series of flowers embedded in it, but again, there was no rational behind it. From any direction the box faced, the arrangement was the same.

“Mags, there isn't any logic to this box."

“I think there is. I think it's something that isn't going to be obvious. I mean, we're thinking like ordinary people. We aren't. Can't our abilities help us out?"

“I don't have x-ray vision," he answered drolly.

“Neither do I stupid." She took the box and pinched the ring, holding the whole thing up to her head. She turned it, listening to it as each click sounded off. Once she had made a full turn, she did it again.

“The clicks sound a little different at different points."

“You mean you can hear the difference?"

“Sure, if you put your mind to it. It's not all that weird. Thieves have been doing it for a long time."

“So how will that help us open it?"

She made a face at him. “I don't know. I'm just telling you what I can hear."

He held it to his ear and listened intently. “OK. I hear what you hear, but I have no idea how to use that."

She took the box back.  “There are twelve little flowers on this. I doubt that it's coincidence."

“Twelve? Like a clock?"

“I suppose so, though it could be a little difficult to align."

“I agree. But it has to be something along those lines doesn't it?"

“Don't ask me. I haven't got a clue."

He picked it back up. The wood grain was fairly fine, but there did seem to be a crack running through it. It wasn't something from age, but a dark line that must have been there when the tree had been felled. And by chance or by craft, it was running straight through one side of the box. Dead center.

“What if this is our starting point?" asked Edward as he pointed out the flaw in the grain.

“That's good enough for me. But then what's the combination?"

“Hell if I know. I think that outside of simply tearing this thing open, we're going to be stuck."

“NO! We're not going to rip it open. This was meant for us to be able to figure it out. Or; someone was supposed to figure it out. Who knows how many others have come through here just like us and never even found it?"

“I never thought of that. This is sort of a test?"

“My thought exactly. Sort of a treasure hunt. We found it, but now we have to figure out how to get inside it."

“So we're no better off than before we found it."

“And yet, we are no worse either. Quit being a pessimist. If we were destined to find it, than it must have something inside for us; or for someone like us to find."

Edward turned it over in his hands. “I say we take it down to the tavern and see if anyone there can shed any light on it. Yes," he held up his hand, “we'll have to tell them where we got it, but I think they'll understand. I mean, I hope they understand."

With little else coming forth as an option, they did as they said. The place was lively with conversation, and despite the feeling of foreboding as they entered, no one took the slightest interest in them. They found their former seats and sat on either side of the table, contemplating the box that now occupied the space in between.

Despite staring at it intently for the next five minutes, in didn't miraculously open. But their barmaid friend reappeared.

“What a lovely box! Did you two do some quick shopping?"

“No. We found this."

“Really. How extraordinary that someone would leave such a thing simply lying about."

“It wasn't out in the open. We found it hidden away."

“That must have been a quick hide and seek game you had! Where did you find it?"

“Under our bed."

The woman smiled. “I see. So someone has finally found the secret compartment. It never does any good without the key of course. You must possess both the key and good fortune. So far, no one has had both."

“But what is it?"

“A box."

Edward tried to keep his cool. “We can see that. And since you seem to know something about it, what's inside?"

“Knowing of something is not the same as knowing it completely. There has been legend of a box. Now I see that the legend is real. So in this case, I now know as much as you do."

Maggie leaned up to her. “Don't you know more?"

“Legend is merely legend. But I will tell you what I know."

Edward and Maggie turned to face her as she pulled up a chair and sat down.

“The box is very old. It was commissioned by a nobleman to be very simple and plain, and yet of such fine workmanship that it would appeal to the eye. Back in the day when everything was highly carved and ostentatious, this piece was said to be the epitome of covert beauty. “

“It is very pretty in an understated way.  You say it's old; how old?"

“If the story is true, then it was crafted by a man called Jost Bürgi. He was famed as a clock maker and a mathematician, among his other talents."

“When did he live?"

“Sometime between four and five hundred years ago."

Edward rolled the name over his tongue. “German?"

“No! He was Swiss. The Swiss are still known for their excellent timepieces."

Maggie tapped on the wood of the box, listening to the slightest muffled hollow sound it made. “This isn't a clock. There are no hands and no numbers on it."

“So it would appear."

“So then how do we open it?"

“With care."

“Ha ha. Very funny."

“I was being serious."

“A lot of help that is."

“My point is that to open this, you will need to understand how the device works."

“I get that.  We're trying to figure out what that is."

“Then you must discover it yourself, for I doubt there is anyone alive who knows."

Edward groaned. “So what are we supposed to do? Stick around here until we do?"

The lady smiled. “It might be advisable. Until you know what is inside, you might find that staying here is no bad thing."

Maggie wasn't put off by the idea, but she was a little suspicious by her generosity. “What difference would opening it here as opposed to opening it elsewhere make?"

“Perhaps none. So if you think I'm trying to keep you here for nefarious purposes, think again. I'm under the impression that discovering the box is only one step to finding something else. Therefore, rather than heading off in some random search for something or someone you don't even comprehend, maybe you should see what this box holds. It may be nothing whatsoever, or it could contain something you might find useful. "

There were two simultaneous sighs.

“Now, now. You two act like you have somewhere important to be. If you truly seek who you say you seek, than I would think you would take any possible advantages that come your way."

Edward blinked. “She did give us the key!"

“Hey, that's right! So I guess we should have a little patience."

The lady smiled. “Patience is always good to have. There is an old saying, by Alexander Pope if I recall properly, that says that fools rush in where angels fear to tread. Therefore stay. Think. Relax. We are at your disposal until such time as you decide to depart."

Edward nodded. “Thank you. I think that you may be right. I have a feeling that there is something important in here. I just wish I knew how to get inside it."

“Wishes are nice, but action works better. You have a mind; use it. There has to be something to this box that can be puzzled out. It is, after all, a fairly simple looking device."

“From the outside anyways," snorted Maggie. “Who knows what's on the inside?"

“Just think of it this way young lady. You won't be bored anytime soon, now will you?"

“No, I guess not."

“Then off with the two of you. And don't lose that box. If nothing else, it's a priceless relic from the past. At best, it may offer you some hope in finding the path which you seek to follow."

They returned to their room and set the box on the bed. The latter was still sitting askew from where he had shoved it earlier. The safe was still open and he made as if to close it.

“What are you doing?"

“Shutting it back up again. There's no point in leaving it open. I had intended to move the bed back to where it was, unless you have a problem with that."

“No, I suppose not."

He leaned down to shut the solidly built door when he stopped. He stared into the shallow depths and sucked in a breath. There, in the bottom, was a darkly yellowed slip of parchment. He gingerly picked it up, noting the stiffness and brittleness of the old paper.

“Look Mags!"

“What is it?"

He carefully unfolded it, fearing that the ancient, discolored slip would disintegrate into dust. He slowly spread it out. There, in a heavily stylized script, were the words “Pour chercher ce qui est dans le cœur, se tourner vers la clé. Pour rechercher la clé, la tourner à ce qui est dans le cœur.“

He handed it to Maggie. She silently read it through, not understanding it at first. They both had exposure to the French language but understanding the spoken word and understanding the written one were separate talents that had to be honed and not simply absorbed.

As she went from reading it in her head to actually pronouncing out loud, Edward was able to follow it. “To seek what is in the heart, turn to the key. To seek the key, turn to what is in the heart."

“That's in French, isn't it? I thought this guy was from Switzerland!"

“I don't know Mags. I can't say that I've ever heard of a Swiss language. Maybe they use from what's on either side of them."

“A bit like some use Spanish back home… that makes sense. In fact, it makes more sense than this stupid riddle."

“Do you think it belongs with the box?"

“What else would it go to? But the key opened the safe. There isn't a keyhole in the box for us to stick it into."

“I know. I don't get it either. I think someone has gone to a lot of effort to make this a lot more difficult than it needs to be."

“Don't think of it that way! Think of it as a challenge!"

He sighed. “I would rather have some good solid information to go on, but at least this challenge isn't going to get me dismembered by a madman."

“That's the spirit!"

“That was sarcasm."

“No it wasn't. We aren't going to come to any harm here, and so we have time to think on it. Between the two of us, I think we can come up with the combination."

“I hope this lady is worth the trouble we seem to be going through just to find her."

“Come on. She had wings! I have to meet her. We have to meet her!"

“I wish I shared your enthusiasm. This has all the ear marks of a wild goose chase."

“So, if nothing else we'll have a chance to meet people and see the sites. That's not all bad, now is it?"

“No. I sort of wish everyone else was with us."

“Everyone else? Oh, you mean mom and grandma and her sibs? Or do you miss Verona?" With those parting words she had a sly lilt to her voice.

He ignored her jibe. “I only think we would be better together, not apart."

“We are together stupid. If you want to talk to anyone else, you have this thing called a cell phone."

“I meant have them around physically. There's safety in numbers."

“Why are you suddenly so paranoid?"

“I'm not paranoid. I'm edgy. I just don't trust all of this. One minute I think it's great and the next I'm mistrusting it. If she really want's us to find her, why make the way so difficult?"

“I don't know. Maybe because the journey is more enlightening than the destination?"

“What?"

“I'm just guessing. But I think we can learn more by doing than we ever will by having it all handed to us. I think we might have covered that aspect of life already."

“Oh, do shut up!" But he wasn't angry with her. He was intrigued by the task set before them, and yet, he couldn't help feeling like they were being drawn into so larger conspiracy that he had no power against. He didn't like being not in control of his life.

Then he busted out laughing.

Maggie looked at him oddly. “What's wrong with you now?"

“Oh, nothing more than what's always wrong with me. I used to be normal and now look at me. I'm running around Europe looking for someone who might prove to be nothing more than a myth. I went from being plain and ordinary to extraordinary in the blink of an eye."

Then he sobered up.

“Sorry. I don't think I was cut out for this sort of thing. I hate it when I have time to dwell on things, because my mind goes to places that make me uncomfortable."

“I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not. From the first moment we met, I felt you were the right person for me."

“Oh, I agree!" He grabbed her and kissed her. “There doesn't seem to be a problem there. It's just that I keep trying to find a pattern; you know, some sort of sense in all of this and I just can't find one."

“Constellations."

“What?"

“What are constellations but patterns in the night sky that someone decided were there. You can either look at the stars for what they are, or you can go crazy looking for things that don't really exist. We know this lady exists. We know we exist. Therefore, any pattern that is presently between us is likely put there by her. Maybe you should quit trying so hard to decipher every little thing that we encounter."

“And yet, here we have a box."

“Yes we do. And from all appearances no way of getting it open."

“It's about as much help as that barmaid was. I need a way of getting it open."

“We need a way of getting it open. I'm as curious as you are. We'll just have to deal with it day by day until we find the right combination."

HE threw up his hands. “Fuck it! I'm done with this for now. I need to clear my head of all of this obfuscation."

“Fine. Let's go for a walk."

“No. Let's go for a drive."

“They might think we're leaving."

“We'll leave the box here. I want to go for a drive. Somewhere, anywhere where I can cut loose a little. My brain hurts from all of this thinking."

“I see. Alright, I'll go with you. Someone will need to keep you out of trouble."

He was prepared to argue the “keep you out of trouble" bit, but he did have a propensity for stumbling around like a lost soul on occasion. And at this moment he was feeling frustrated and useless.  This puzzle should be easy to figure out. After all there wasn't much to it. But how did one open a box that had no obvious method for opening? If it were a combination lock, the means of opening it had been lost to the ages. A small slip of yellow paper with a few word scrawled upon it in French was hardly the answer.

“Fine. Let's just fuel up the Alfa and go somewhere."

They got their room back in order and headed for the car. There, sitting on the roof, was a wicker basket. Edward slowed and stopped, searching the street for anything suspicious. People were coming and going, and not a single one paid them any attention. But he caught a whiff of something in the air. Maggie sniffed too.

“Is that fresh bread?"

She pulled the basket down and opened the top. It was filled with fragrant rolls, jams and fresh butter. There was also a note.

“When in doubt, clear the head. When the head is clear, clear the heart. When the heart is calm, all is well."

She held it up for Edward to read. He snorted.

“Fuck. Are we that predictable?" 

“I'm guessing you are. I'm just going with you, remember?"

“Yes to keep me out of trouble. So where should we go?"

“Drive out into the country somewhere. I think that sightseeing isn't high on the priority list today. Find some place idyllic and peaceful and we can just sit and have some quiet time to contemplate life."

He sighed. “I don't think I want to contemplate life."

“Too bad. If you want to get your head on straight, you'll need to make periodic adjustments. Life isn't static and you shouldn't be either. It's good to hold on to what is dear to you, but are you sure you know what that is?"

“I guess it's time to find out. I don't see how that will help us get that box open, but it might do some good."

They didn't have to go far to find a perfect spot. It seemed to be part of a farm, but as there was no one to ask for permission to tread upon the grassy field, they figured they would deal with any repercussions their trespassing might cause. They climbed an old stone wall, accompanied by their basket, and settled down under a towering oak.

“Feel better?"

Edward settled down against the lichen covered trunk.

“No… I mean, yes this is nice. Just you and me and no one else. But I'm still trying to come to terms with all of this. As usual, you seem to have no problem whatsoever adapting."

“I've had to adapt. I was left with no memories of who I really was or anything about my life except for a few basics. Heck, I still feel like I'm a little girl. I don't think I just look this way to please you, I think I do it because it pleases me."

“What?"

“Oh nothing. I'm just saying that despite being what we are, at heart we are still just two people."

“I don't like it."

“Why not?"

“Because I can't seem to resolve being a killer and a beast. I mean, part of me likes it, but I feel bad sometimes."

“Because you killed? Do you think that automatically makes you a bad person?"

“No. I didn't kill anyone good did I?'

“I'd like to say no, but how does one judge? The answer is I guess that we judge against the measure with which we were raised."

“And there's the problem. I think my parents raised me to be normal, hoping that I would somehow avoid this."

“This?" Maggie sprouted hair as she partially morphed. “I hate to tell you this wise guy, but for us, this is normal. The problem we have is image. A soldier goes out and kills someone bad and he's a hero. So too if it happens to be a policeman. People kill each other all the time!"

“I know. But they have the right."

“By whose reckoning? People have been killing each other for thousands of years. While I understand your concern, I can't offer any particular sympathy. Everyone that I have killed I have done so with good reason. Many people kill without a good cause."

He shook his head. “It's not that easy for me. Is that all I am to become? A random killing machine?"

“Oh Edward, grow up. Who nearly died saving us from that creep Hyde? You did. You keep thinking and thinking and thinking until you bind yourself up in knots. Life is as complicated or as simple as you decide to make it."

“Is it? I don't think it's that easy. After all, while we might have met up with Mr. Slippery Fish in New York, it was more by accident than by purpose.  And the cardinal essentially came looking for us. And now this lady has us running around trying to find her when she found us to begin with. Are you saying we can just walk away from all of this?"

“They are problems to be solved. Think of it this way; if we give up looking for the Lady Lily, then we will always dwell on what we didn't do. We'll always wonder what we missed. I think I would be more likely to dwell on what I didn't do than on what I did do. At least then you have answers, even if they aren't the ones you want."

He was silent for a while.

“Thinking and feeling."

She didn't turn to look at him, but she was immediately curious.

“Go on."

“Thinking is done with the brain, and feeling with the heart, but that is most metaphoric. The brain does it all. Is there a way of keeping the two sides in sync with one another?"

“I suppose there is. A hunch after all is an educated guess based on a feeling. Why?"

“I keep worrying about things, but I mostly worry about you."

“Me? That's sweet dear, but I worry more about you. I was handling myself well before I met you. I think I can deal with whatever comes our way."

“Even me?"

“Especially you."

He fell silent again. When he spoke, he sounded subdued.

“I feel responsible for all of this."

She choked back a laugh.

“Boy, aren't you feeling grandiose! You and I are just two people in this great big world, and I have a feeling that we may count more than most, but a lot less than many others. Look at Leo. He's famous, but only for those things he did with his mind. No one even has an inkling he's still alive, much less a werewolf.  And he fit right into the Vatican like a glove on a demoiselle's hand. So maybe your problem is that you're trying to make a spot for us and there's already one that we fit into and you're just not seeing that."

He dug his fingers into the dirt and fought down his anger. The problem was, she was probably right. He wanted so many things for them that he might be missing the bigger picture. But how could one see the grand scheme of things when they were part of it? There was a saying he remembered people saying; you can't see the forest for the trees. He needed a perspective on their life and there wasn't a suitable one available.

“Mags, look. I think it's best that we…"

She cut him off.

“What do you feel?"

“What?"

“Right now. No thinking. What do you feel?"

He let loose the soil under his hands and put them behind his neck. “Feel? I feel lost. I feel confused. I feel like… I don't know."

“OK. Do you love me?"

“Of course!"

“Then add that to your list. Do you like adventure?"

“Within moderation," he said cautiously.

“Add it to the list. Don't worry about those things of which you are unsure. Dwell upon those which you know. There will always be things we are unsure of, even things of which we are unaware and if we were, they might fill us with dread. Therefore, at times, ignorance is bliss. But you need to get your heart wrapped around your head, and not the other way around. Know your heart first and foremost."

“I wish I could. I'm trying to be logical about all of this, but there is so much that seems to defy explanation."

“Then accept it for what it is. Remember what that woman said earlier. Knowing of the box doesn't mean knowing it's nature. She accepted what it is without having seen it before."

“So she says."

“Why should she lie? So have faith in what you do know, all the while adding to it."

“Faith? That sounds like religion."

“Maybe it does. But there is something to be said for faith. It gives you hope were you might otherwise not have any. I have faith in you, and that you love me. But what would you give as evidence for that?"

He went to say something and stopped. “I guess so. I do love you, you know."

“Yes I do. I feel it in my heart and I see it in your eyes. It is enough for me."

“You make me feel foolish."

“No, you make yourself feel foolish. Let go. You seem able to do it sometimes. Let go of your fear and leave it behind."

“Easier said than done."

“As simple as figuring out how to open a box?"

“I think it might be more difficult than that even."

“You have a good heart Edward. You really do. Your mind needs a little work, but the emotional side of you is second to none."

“Thanks I guess. I don't always feel like I'm a good person."

She put her hand on his leg. “All we can do is to be the best we are capable of being. It's up to us to define that. Quit worrying what other people see in you. I know who you are. And I wouldn't have you any other way."

“Now you're just pulling at my heart strings…"

“No I'm not. I'm telling you the truth…" She stopped because he was suddenly stiff. She turned to look at him. He was staring into the distance as if in a trance.

“Edward?"

“Mags…  What if?"

“What if what?"

“What if the box is actually a clock?"

“What?"

“What if the box is actually clock?"

“I heard you the first time. I don't get what you mean."

“We've both grown up in the day and age of electronics. But my dad used to use an old windup alarm clock. It always sat on the nightstand in their bedroom. He would wind it every day to make sure he got up on time."

“Uh, OK. So what does that have to do with our conversation or the box?"

“The ring. It turns."

“Yes it does. And it clicks. But it didn't do anything else."

“To get to the heart of the matter, we need to use a key."

“Yes…"

“But a key can be anything really. It might be real, or it could be having the key in your mind. Or heart. I won't quibble with distinctions right now."

“But it didn't seem to wind when it was turned."

“No, but then neither will an old style clock unless the turnkey is pulled out or pushed in. Heck, even a wristwatch is the same way."

“That's right! But what good is a clock with no face and no numbers?"

“I don't know. But I say we go back and find out."

“But we have this nice picnic packed for us. Should we let it go to waste?"

Edward could hardly believe his ears. But one look at the sly grin on her face told him she was just kidding him.

“We'll eat it back at the tavern. I think everyone there might be interested in knowing what is inside that box."

“If there's anything."

“Yes, but time will tell. For that matter I might be wrong, but I feel right about this."

“Feel or think?"

He stood up, reaching down to give her a hand up to her feet. “Feel. And it feels right."