Riddle Of The Diamond Dove (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 4)

by N. S. Wikarski

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to. That’s a much longer discussion which we’ll postpone for the time being.” She looked up at the ceiling, again lost in thought. Murmuring half to herself, she said, “We’ll have to create a replica and then disfigure it in such a way that Metcalf believes it has lost its power. Yes, I believe that strategy may work. I must remember to speak to Maddie about it.”

  The boy appeared lost in a reverie of his own, digesting both his snack and the new data which had been presented to him. He finally peered at Faye and said, “This is even bigger than I thought it was.”

  “Indeed,” the old woman assented. “And now you have the additional burden of keeping all this knowledge secret from Hannah.”

  “But why?”

  “Because if, by some catastrophe, she is recaptured by the cult then the less she knows the better. It’s for her own protection.”

  “Can’t I at least give her a hint?” he persisted.

  Faye’s voice was unusually grave. “Zachary, these people will kill with very little provocation to get what they want and they want the Sage Stone very badly. Sybil’s murder proved that. If they thought Hannah knew anything at all about its whereabouts, there’s no telling what they’d do to her.”

  The boy blanched at her words.

  Faye reached across the table and squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I don’t wish to alarm you but you need to understand the sort of people we’re dealing with. Both your welfare and Hannah’s mean a great deal to me.”

  Zach nodded gravely. “I get that now. I promise not to tell her anything.”

  Having made her point, Faye took a sip of tea and reached for a miniature eclair. “You still have one question left,” she reminded him.

  He sat up with a start. “Right!” A sudden change came over him. He seemed alarmed at the prospect of asking his final question. He cleared his throat several times, looked at the floor, then at the walls, and tapped his fingers on the table. After a deep sigh, he gazed directly at Faye. “Here’s the thing. I want to ask Hannah out on a date.”

  “A date?” Faye echoed in surprise.

  “Yeah. I thought we could go to a movie. She’s never seen anything on the big screen. Never had theater popcorn. It would be good for her to get out in a crowd of normal people.”

  “Zachary, I really don’t think your polka dotted car is the right vehicle for an outing like that,” the old woman protested.

  “Yeah, I know. Aside from the paint job, the muffler is acting up again,” he replied sheepishly.

  “The whole neighborhood can hear it whenever you come to my house for a visit.”

  “What if I promise to take my dad’s car?” he offered.

  “Well, I suppose that would be alright.” Faye dabbed her mouth delicately with her napkin and pushed the teacup away. She rested her elbows on the table. “However, I don’t think I’m the person you should be asking about a date.”

  “I know.” Zach agreed. “That wasn’t my third question.”

  “Oh?” his ancestor asked in surprise.

  “I wanted to know if... um... if... you think Hannah would go out with me if I asked her?”

  Faye gave a knowing smile. “That’s a question I can answer with no hesitation at all. Yes, dear boy. The answer to that one is an unqualified ‘yes’.”

  Chapter 12—The Reel World

  Emboldened by Faye’s assurance of success, Zachary lost no time in asking Hannah to go out with him. On the following Friday evening, he maneuvered his car silently up the driveway to the farmhouse. No exhaust fumes, no rumble from a bad muffler. It was going to cost him a week of yard work but he’d managed to wheedle his dad into giving him the keys to the family sedan. He checked his look in the rearview mirror, running anxious fingers over the crown of his head. Even without gel, his hair still had a tendency to stick straight up in the air.

  He loped up the walk and knocked hesitantly on the front door. Hannah swung it open immediately.

  She gave him a tremulous smile. “H...hello. Won’t you come in?”

  He gulped. She looked prettier than he’d ever seen her before and that was saying a lot. Gamma must have helped her curl her hair. She was wearing makeup and a dress made of some kind of gauzy material that seemed to float on the draft coming through the door.

  He walked into the warm bright parlor where his ancestor was sitting in her favorite armchair. “Hello, Zachary,” she said. “I didn’t hear you come up the drive.”

  “That’s because I’ve got my dad’s car.”

  “Very wise of you.” She nodded her head approvingly. “And where will you be taking Hannah tonight?”

  “To the Cineplex at the mall. There’s a new pirate movie that just came out.”

  “Nothing violent, I hope?” the old woman asked in a worried tone.

  “Strictly PG.”

  “What’s PG?” Hannah asked.

  “It’s a rating system for films, dear,” Faye explained. “It means the content of the movie is suitable for general audiences. No graphic sex or violence.”

  “Oh my!” Hannah looked alarmed. “Do movies usually have sex and violence?”

  “Some do,” Zach said. “The one we’re seeing tonight shouldn’t be too racy.”

  She eyed him dubiously.

  He checked his watch. “We better go or we’ll miss the trailers.”

  “What’s a”—

  “Never mind.” He cut her off. “I’ll explain in the car.”

  “Hannah, you should take a wrap,” Faye warned. “It’s chilly out tonight.”

  ***

  Zach paid for their tickets and led Hannah into the theater. Once through the entry door, she stopped dead in her tracks, goggle-eyed at the size of the lobby and its glossy film posters framed in blinking lights. Zach found himself secretly fascinated by her reaction. He was seeing the world through her eyes and it carried him back to the first time he’d ever been to the movies. All the wonder of make-believe on the big screen returned to him in a rush.

  He nudged her toward the refreshment counter. “Do you like popcorn?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “What is it?”

  “It’s corn that’s popped.”

  “Oh, just like it sounds.”

  Zach ordered a large bucket of popcorn and two sodas from the attendant. “We can share,” he told her. “That way if you don’t like it... more for me.”

  She giggled at his ungallant explanation. He colored in embarrassment, wishing he could snatch the words back. Only a knuckle-dragging mouth-breather would say something as lame as “more for me.” Duh!

  Hannah jumped slightly when the popcorn maker started shooting kernels into the bin. She pressed her hands against the glass, entranced by the process.

  The boy chuckled at her amazement. He handed her a soda and balanced his own soft drink and the bucket of popcorn, all the while steering her to the correct theater.

  She glanced up at the dozen marquees. “You mean all these different movies are playing here at the same time?”

  “Yup. Here’s ours.” He ushered her through a semi-darkened doorway.

  She had a little trouble figuring out how the seat worked and stood puzzling over it.

  “It collapses, see? Push on it.”

  She did as he instructed and the seat dropped down. When she released her hand, it popped back up again. Hannah jumped back, startled, then tried again. And again. And again. This went on for several seconds.

  “Hold the seat down and then sit on it,” Zach urged, once her giggling subsided.

  “Your grandmother doesn’t have chairs like this at home,” Hannah confided as Zach slid down beside her.

  “Nope, it’s a movie theater specialty. Want some corn?” He extended the bucket toward her.

  She reached in tentatively and selected three kernels. Cautiously putting them in her mouth, she chewed with great concentration as if she were analyzing the taste. Her eyes flew open in surprise. “This is g
ood. Buttery.”

  “I ordered extra butter.”

  Hannah didn’t need any more encouragement. She dove into the bucket and scooped up an entire handful.

  The theater lights dimmed.

  “What’s happening now?” she asked in alarm.

  “It’s show time.” Zach leaned back in his seat. “Oh, I almost forgot. When the movie starts, put these on.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved a pair of glasses with tinted lenses.

  Hannah took the object and examined it warily. “I can see the screen just fine from here, Zachary. I don’t need glasses.”

  “These aren’t ordinary glasses. You use them to see the 3-D effects. This movie was filmed with special cameras so sometimes it looks like the action onscreen is actually jumping off the screen in three dimensions.”

  She stared at him blankly.

  “Don’t worry about it. Just remember to put the glasses on when the movie starts and don’t take them off til it’s over, OK?”

  “If you say so,” she agreed, sounding unconvinced.

  The previews rolled—one action scene after another accompanied by the blast of Dolby Surround Sound. Zach snuck a look at Hannah to see how she was enjoying the experience. She sat gaping at the screen, a handful of popcorn suspended between the bucket and her mouth.

  “And this isn’t even the main attraction,” Zach leaned over and explained. “Wait til you see that.”

  She nodded mutely as a sign that she’d heard him—but only barely. She seemed mesmerized.

  Zack congratulated himself on choosing to take her to the movies. He knew she’d be talking about this for weeks to come.

  Then the music of the overture swelled along with the waves of a storm-tossed sea. The pirate movie had begun.

  “Put your glasses on,” he reminded her.

  She shook herself out of her trance and slipped the frames over her ears.

  The plot involved the usual buried treasure, damsel in distress, and good pirate versus bad pirate but Zach was seeing it all through Hannah’s eyes. He guessed this was what new parents must feel like when their kids were old enough to experience their first Christmas.

  Hannah was completely lost in the story as if she were living it herself. He could feel her hand grip his forearm tensely when the damsel was captured by the evil pirate.

  The sword fight between the hero and villain was filmed entirely in 3-D. When the evil pirate lunged, his sword popped out of the screen and hovered threateningly over the audience. Hannah actually shrieked.

  A few patrons turned around in their seats to glare at her. Others chuckled.

  “I’m sorry,” she confided in a mortified tone. “You must think I’m a terrible coward but it’s so real!”

  “That’s OK.” Zach patted her arm. “If you get scared, you can hold onto my hand.” Smooth, he told himself.

  The drama intensified as the forces of good and evil squared off in an epic sea battle. Pirates hurled themselves from ship to ship. The camera made dizzying cuts from one pair of duelists to another. At one point it looked like the hero got skewered.

  Hannah buried her face against his jacket. “I can’t look,” she moaned.

  Zach took the opportunity to slide his arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m here to protect you.” Even he had to roll his eyes at his transparent motive but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “Thank you,” she murmured simply.

  After a few seconds, she opened her eyes and dared to peep up at the screen. Zach noticed that she was still leaning in close to him. He kept his arm wrapped firmly around her.

  They sat huddled together all the way through the stirring conclusion. Evil vanquished. Good triumphant. Full orchestra accompaniment while the credits rolled. Then lights up and people scurrying for the exit.

  When the theater cleared and Hannah took off her glasses, she was speechless.

  Zach stood up and held out a hand to help her to her feet. “So what did you think?”

  “It was... it was...” She looked at him helplessly, groping for the right word. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

  He beamed at her. “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “Do we have to go home? Can we stay to see another one?”

  Everything in Zach’s nature wanted to stay all night and watch movies with her until his money ran out but he shook his head regretfully. “Gamma would kill me if I kept you out late. I promised we’d be home by eleven, Cinderella.”

  “Cinderella?”

  “I’ll tell you that story another time. Hey, there’s even a movie about it.”

  ***

  They stood on the front stairs to Faye’s farmhouse for several awkward moments, neither one speaking.

  “So, I guess this is good night,” Zach ventured. A tiny voice inside his head was screaming, “Kiss her, you moron!”

  “I guess so,” Hannah agreed uncertainly.

  He had a brainstorm. “It’s a custom out here in our world that after a first date the couple swaps a goodnight kiss.”

  Hannah took his statement at face value. “Well, if it’s customary then we should do that. I want to fit in.” She leaned toward him and closed her eyes.

  He leaned toward her. Just before their lips met, he lost his nerve. Pecking her timidly on the cheek, he said, “Good night, Hannah.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Oh, I see,” she said. Grabbing him by the shoulders, she planted an enthusiastic kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Zachary. I hope we do this again.”

  He grinned. “Count on it.”

  As he turned to go he caught a glimpse of his Gamma peeking at both of them from behind a lace curtain in the parlor. She seemed to be chuckling.

  Chapter 13—Traveling Worst Class

  “I just don’t understand it.” Cassie wheeled her suitcase through the door of the Margaret Ekpo airport in Calabar, Nigeria. “It’s not like we left the continent.” She gave a martyred sigh.

  Her two male companions exchanged wary glances but offered no comment.

  “I mean, first we had to fly from Botswana to South Africa and then all the way to Cairo just to get a flight back to Nigeria. And even then we had to take another flight from Abuja to Calabar.”

  “This isn’t like the States, toots,” Erik admonished her. “They don’t have airports every fifty feet. Get used to it.”

  “Remember what Griffin told you back in Botswana. I’ll never get used to it.”

  “Didn’t that sleep mask you bought help?” Erik asked.

  “I felt like the Hamburgler wearing it,” Cassie growled. “And no, it didn’t help. My bloodshot eyes should tell you that.”

  “You’re gonna be a real treat to be around for the next couple of days,” Erik muttered.

  The trio took up a position on the sidewalk outside the baggage claim area, waiting for their contact to arrive.

  Griffin tactfully changed the subject. Turning to the Paladin, he asked, “Have you checked in with Maddie yet?”

  Erik shot him an exasperated look. “Yeah. I’m half a world away and she can still manage to yell loud enough to make my ears bleed. At least the one that Cassie wasn’t already yelling into. I swear when I get back home the first thing I’m gonna do is buy Maddie a pack of cigarettes.”

  “Oh no!” Griffin gasped in alarm. “I’d completely forgotten. Is it...?”

  — “Yup,” Erik cut in. “It’s that time again.”

  Cassie looked at her companions doubtfully. “Time for what?”

  The Scrivener rolled his eyes. “Time for Maddie to repent her evil addiction and give up smoking. She does this without fail every two years.”

  “And it’s not going well?” Cassie offered tentatively.

  Erik snorted in disgust. “It never goes well. You should have heard her today.”

  “What’s she on about now?” Griffin sounded mystified.

  “She read me the riot act that if we don’t pick up the pace, Daniel will
get the jump on us.”

  “Surely she knows we’re doing the best we can,” the Scrivener protested.

  “Sane Maddie would know that,” Erik retorted. “Nicotine-deprived Maddie needs a reality check.”

  “So she does this every couple of years?” Cassie was still trying to process the concept.

  “I circle the date on my calendar,” Erik said.

  “As do I,” Griffin added glumly. “Not that it does any good to brace oneself for the inevitable.”

  “Jeez!” Cassie exclaimed in wonderment. “I had no idea.”

  “Not to worry though,” Griffin replied. “She’ll realize her folly and resume smoking in a few weeks. We just need to stay out of the country until that happens.”

  “So the idea that she’s inviting lung cancer is supposed to comfort me?” Cassie asked incredulously.

  “Some people are meant to smoke,” Erik observed through gritted teeth. “Maddie is one of them. Her lungs must be made of titanium. Every time she goes for a check-up, the doc can’t find anything wrong. Not so much as a smoker’s cough.”

  At that moment, a silver Corolla glided up to the curb and parked. The driver got out and walked around the vehicle to meet the Arkana team.

  She was a middle-aged African woman of medium height and ample proportions. Everything about her seemed sturdy. From her broad features to her square build. Her close-cropped black hair was shot with streaks of grey.

  She held out her arms expansively and walked straight up to Griffin to embrace him. “Welcome to Nigeria, my dear boy.”

  Griffin stooped to return the hug. “We’re very glad to be here, Oluoma. It’s been a long flight.”

  “I’m sure it has,” the woman nodded, transferring her attention to Erik. Her brown eyes twinkled with mischief. “My daughter sends her regards,” she said as she hugged him.

  Cassie darted the Paladin a swift look.

  He flushed with pleasure. “How is Amaka? I’ve haven’t seen her in a long time.”

  “She is quite well but sorry to have missed your visit. She is out of the country at the moment.”

  “Too bad,” Erik said. “Tell her I’ll give her a call when I get back to the States. It would be great to get together and catch up.”