by Candace Camp
The museum, having originally been a house, was composed of a number of rooms, some small and some large. The first two rooms they went into contained stuffed animals, including a long-necked llama, and a number of drawings of the flora and fauna of South and Central America. On the walls hung several small blankets and ponchos in bright colors and geometric designs.
The next room displayed a number of odd-looking masks, stylized in design, several made of gold, silver and copper. One was of a man’s face, wide and square, with large almond-shaped eyes and huge rings in his earlobes, with an arcing headdress across his forehead. The mask appeared to be silver, with the headdress and the round earrings done in gold. Another mask, also made from metal, was, she realized on second glance, the wide-open jaws of a jaguar, with nose and eyes above the gaping square of the mouth, large, wicked-looking teeth jutting up and down at the corners of the square. Inside the opened mouth was the stylized face of a man, the two faces melding together in such a way that they appeared to be one creature.
She leaned forward for a closer look. “How curious. What is that?”
“The jaguar god,” Theo said flatly.
Megan glanced at him. His face was devoid of expression. “Also the sun god. When he passes through the day, he is the sun god, the supreme god, then he descends into the darkness of the underworld, where he is the jaguar god. The god of war.”
Megan could not suppress a little shiver. The mask was, frankly, a little bit unnerving. She strolled around the room, looking at all the masks, some of metal and others of cloth or ceramic, some topped with feathers. All were of human or animal faces, often a blending of the two. There were long-beaked birds and open-mouthed serpents, deities and warriors.
In the center of the room stood a large, glassed-in display case containing a variety of small figurines. Several were gold and silver, a veritable garden of plants and trees in gleaming metal, and others were carved from some sort of black stone. There were painted pots, and also a short instrument of some kind, with another head-dressed figure on top, and below it a rounded piece of metal that looked rather like a miniature spade.
Megan glanced again at Theo. He stood in silence, gazing down into the display case, and there was a look on his face, distant and melancholy, that clutched at Megan’s heart. It was the face of a man staring into bitter memories, and once again she felt the sharp stab of certainty that Theo lived with guilt.
Her heart felt immensely heavy, and tears welled suddenly in her eyes. She turned away, swallowing the fierce emotion that threatened to swamp her.
Seizing on any diversion, she wondered where the twins were. With the house laid out the way it was, it had not taken the boys long to outstrip them as they went from room to room. But she realized now that she did not even hear their voices any longer.
“Oh, dear,” Megan said. “Where are Con and Alex?”
She crossed the room to the hall and looked out. “Boys? Con? Alex?”
There was no sign of them and no reply, and anxiety sharpened in her chest. She went to the next room and peeked in, only to find the boys were not there, either. Consternation on her face, she turned back to Theo, who had followed her out into the hall. “Where did they get to?”
Theo shrugged with a notable lack of concern. “The twins have a knack of disappearing wherever they go. Don’t worry. They also have a way of turning up just when you’re sure that something dreadful has happened to them.”
“I must say,” Megan told him crossly, “you seem rather cavalier about it.”
“The twins are good at taking care of themselves,” Theo responded with a smile. “At least here I know they’re enclosed in a house. It’s a great deal more unnerving to lose sight of them in the midst of the city, which I have had the misfortune to do before. With the Greats, it’s best to save one’s worry until you find that they’re actually in danger. Otherwise you’ll be gray before your time.”
Megan knew it was true that the twins were able to take care of themselves quite well, and she had little doubt that in a few minutes they would come pounding back, full of excitement and babbling about something that she and Theo should see. Still, Theo’s attitude seemed one more irritation in an already annoying day, and she was just about to snap back a heated comment when she was distracted by the sound of footsteps.
She turned and saw a man approaching them from the rear of the house. He was of medium height, with light brown hair that was receding in a dramatic V from his forehead. He made up for the lack of hair atop his head with a wide set of muttonchop sideburns. He was dressed plainly in a dark suit and white shirt with stiff collars and cuffs, but both the cut and cloth of the suit were expensive and stylish, and his black shoes were polished to a mirror shine. A pearl stickpin nestled in the dark gray silk of his ascot.
He smiled as he approached them, saying, “Lord Raine, this is indeed an honor.”
“Coffey,” Theo responded shortly, giving a brief nod.
“I am so pleased that you and the lady have chosen to visit the museum today.” He turned with a faintly questioning look toward Megan.
“Allow me to introduce you to Miss Henderson,” Theo said without enthusiasm. “Miss Henderson, Mr. Julian Coffey, the director of the Cavendish.”
“How do you do, Miss Henderson?” Coffey said, taking the hand she extended and bowing politely over it.
His eyes, a light gray, looked at her assessingly, and Megan had the feeling that he had quickly summed up the quality of every bit of her attire, from her straw hat to the sturdy black laced shoes on her feet.
“I am a tutor with the Moreland family,” Megan explained, not wanting the man to think that she was Theo’s companion. “Constantine and Alexander are with us, as well, but I fear that they have forged ahead.”
“They will find a great deal to interest them here, I hope,” he replied smoothly. “But I do hope that you and Lord Raine will allow me to show you around my little domain.” He offered them a quick, deprecating smile. “The Cavendish, you see, is not only my employment but also my obsession.”
“Yes, I know,” Theo responded, his voice crisp and cool.
Megan looked at Theo, interested by his almost discourteous response. His face was smooth and unexpressive, his eyes, usually twinkling, now devoid of any emotion. Clearly, she thought, he did not like Mr. Coffey. But of course he would not, considering what Coffey knew about him.
“That would be very nice,” Megan said quickly to counteract Theo’s rudeness.
Simply the fact that Theo did not want the man around was enough to make her want Coffey to stay. Besides, she wanted to see what else transpired between the two men. Perhaps Theo’s horning in on their excursion to the museum would turn out to be a useful thing. While she could not question Coffey with Theo around, she just might learn something from the way Theo reacted to him. She could always come back later to see Coffey on her own—or maybe she could get a few moments alone with him if she could convince Theo to go look for the twins.
“I was curious about this figure,” Megan said, leading him back into the room where they had just been.
She did have a question or two, but primarily she was curious to see what Coffey would say about the items that had sent Theo into his quiet reverie.
“Ah, yes,” Coffey said, looking at the miniature spade-like instrument. “That is an Inca ceremonial knife.” He shot a sideways glance at Theo before he went on, “Even though it is rounded, the blade is quite sharp. They used it, I believe, in ritual sacrifices.”
“Sacrifices?” Megan repeated, surprised.
“Yes. Usually of a llama or some animal. However, the Incas also engaged periodically in the sacrifice of young children.”
“Children?” Megan paled a little. “How awful!”
“Yes, to our Western minds, it doubtless was. However, they were not simply bloodthirsty savages, you know. The sacrifices were done to please or appease their gods, and they were not routinely of children. That occurr
ed only when they were trying to escape the god’s anger, manifested, no doubt, in some sort of cataclysmic natural event—an earthquake, say, or a very long drought, or something of that sort. And on the succession of an emperor, in a ritual called the capac hucha. It was considered a great honor to be one of the chosen children. Only the healthiest and most beautiful were accepted as good enough.”
“An honor I think most of us would decline,” Theo commented.
Coffey gave Megan a small smile and shrugged. “It seems bizarre to us, of course. But one must remember that this was their worship, as sacred to them as our churches are to us. As best we can tell, the Incas believed that their emperor was a god himself. They built each successive holder of the title a grand palace, and the dead emperor was mummified and treated with great reverence. The mummy remained in his palace and was attended by servants and surrounded by his possessions. Rather like the Egyptian burials, except that the servants were not entombed with the mummy but lived and worked in the palace as they always had.”
It seemed a grisly custom to Megan, but she said only, “You must know a great deal about the Incas.”
“I hope I will not appear immodest when I say that I am something of an expert in the field. I was more a naturalist when I went on my first expedition to South America.” He gestured toward the framed ink drawings of jungle scenes that lined one wall of the room. “I sketched those depictions of the flora and fauna of the Amazon. But I became fascinated by the culture and art of the ancient Incas, and gradually, over the years, it was the ancient artifacts of their culture that became my subject of study. The other civilizations are, of course, quite interesting, too—we have rooms devoted to the Mayan culture and the Aztec civilization, as well. But Peru and Ecuador and the Incas have remained my favorite.”
“We are very fortunate, then, to have you as our guide,” Megan replied politely. “When did you first go to South America?”
“About ten years ago,” Coffey replied, and again his gaze flickered over to Theo and back to Megan. He hesitated, and Megan wondered if Theo would say anything about his own presence on the trip.
Theo was silent, and after a moment, Coffey went on, “I went on an expedition up the Amazon. It was fascinating. And, as you can see, it became my all-consuming passion.” He gestured around the room. “Please, let me show you some of the other pieces.”
He led them into the next room, where he pointed out a long knotted string, from which a series of other knotted strings dangled. “This is known as a quipu. It is how the Incas kept records. They had no written language, you see. It’s really quite amazing how they managed such a vast empire—they ruled more than ten million people and their territory covered several modern countries. They were excellent administrators. Their road system was highly developed. They built bridges and shelters a day’s journey apart, where travelers could find lodging. They kept it all in repair. They built temples and palaces, using huge blocks of stone, which they carved and transported—all without the use of the wheel. They did not use mortar, yet the stones fit so well together that they were able to withstand earthquakes.” He stopped and smiled self-deprecatingly. “I apologize. I get carried away, I’m afraid.”
“No, don’t apologize,” Megan told him. “It’s fascinating.”
She looked around the room they had entered. There were numerous shelves containing all sorts of pottery, and once again masks hung on the walls. A glass-fronted cabinet contained a long cloak, brightly colored. Megan realized as she moved closer that it was composed entirely of feathers.
“Oh, my!” she breathed. “This is beautiful.”
“The natives of Peru are skilled craftsmen,” Coffey told her. “This is of much more recent vintage, of course, but I believe that it is similar to garments actually worn by the Inca priests. There were also tunics in which the material was flecked with gold or which were decorated with various gold pendants. They made much use of gold and silver. They called them the ‘sweat of the sun’ and the ‘tears of the moon.’ In Cuzco, the capital city, the temple walls were decorated with sheets of gold. Can you imagine how it must have glittered in the sun?” He sighed. “Unfortunately, most of their gold work was lost when the Spaniards invaded. They tore down the gold decorations and melted them down to ship back to Spain.”
He shook his head sorrowfully. “Greed and religious intolerance destroyed irreplaceable art.”
Megan murmured a sympathetic reply and strolled over to one of the open shelves of objects. There was a cup made of gold, with a whimsical handle in the form of a laughing monkey. There were brightly colored pots, bowls and vases, some with geometrical markings and others with stylized scenes of human and animal forms.
“Look at this, Theo,” she said, turning toward him. She stopped abruptly, swallowing her next words as she realized that his first name had slipped out of her mouth in a far too familiar way. A blush flooded her cheeks.
“They’re lovely, Megan,” he responded. She saw in his eyes a little twinkle of mischief, and she knew that he had noticed not only the slip of her tongue but also the embarrassment that followed it. And he was perversely enjoying both.
Megan’s eyes flashed, and she would have liked to make a heated remark in response to his annoying smile. But she reminded herself that she could not in front of this stranger. So she merely pressed her lips together firmly and turned back to the display.
“The Incas were adept at pottery, then?” she asked to get the conversation back on track. She directed her question to Coffey, keeping her shoulder firmly turned away from Theo.
“Oh, yes. They did not use a wheel but rolled long ropes of clay, then coiled them around into the shape of the pot. The smooth surface was achieved by rubbing them with some sort of flat object. They dried them by simply setting them out in the hot sun. This pot is a very popular form with the Incas. It is called aryballo.”
The vessel to which he pointed was a round, fat pot with two small handles low on the pot and a long neck. It was painted black, with orangish lines running around it and orange geometric shapes.
“Did you find many of these on your first trip to the area?” Megan asked.
Coffey smiled. “Oh, no. That was more an exploratory expedition. Most of these have come from my most recent journeys to Peru, when I sailed to the western coast and journeyed inland from Lima. I would not recommend the passage up the Amazon. Fascinating, of course, but very hard, and, of course, at the end, one is still faced with the Andes. The wildlife is magnificent, however. Many of my drawings that you see here are from that trip.”
Megan admired the display in the center of the room, where personal jewelry was laid out. There were necklaces of gold and silver, and wide gold armbands, as well as large round ornaments, which Coffey identified as ear spools. Megan examined the necklaces with the most interest, remembering Barchester’s words about Theo having possessed a pendant of some sort.
Some of the necklaces were large gold links with a heavy pendant in the middle, rather similar to Egyptian pectorals that she had seen. There were also some single ornamental disks, which she guessed could once have been attached to a chain or leather thong. Was it something like this that Barchester had seen in Theo’s hand?
She glanced over at Theo to see if he had any reaction to the necklaces, but there was no change of expression on his face as he gazed at them. Nor, she thought, was there any great interest. He looked, she thought, impatient or restless, as though he were ready to leave the room, and she wondered if this implied merely boredom or a wish to get away from things that reminded him of what he had done.
She turned back to Coffey, who had started on an explanation of the hierarchy of the Inca governmental system. Keeping a polite expression on her face, she let her mind wander. Had Mr. Barchester said anything to Coffey about her and her quest? She had asked him not to, but she was well aware how often people ignored such requests. She wished that she could think of some way to get rid of Theo and ask Coffey more se
arching questions about the expedition and her brother’s death.
“Perhaps we should look for the twins,” she said, turning toward Theo, hopeful that he would offer to do it himself.
“I’m sure they will turn up,” he replied. “Why don’t we continue? What’s upstairs, Coffey?”
Swallowing her irritation, Megan followed Coffey out the door and up the stairs to the next level of the museum, Theo behind her. There were more exhibits in the rooms upstairs, many of them featuring articles from Mexico and the other Central American countries, along with a small library of books focusing on various aspects of South and Central America. Coffey kept up his explanation of the ancient artifacts of the Aztec and Mayan cultures, as well as the more modern exhibits of clothing, jewelry and such.
As time passed, Megan began to really worry about the twins. It was all very well and good for Theo to say that they were contained in the house, but there were doors leading outside, after all, and she knew Con and Alex well enough by now to know that their curiosity might lead them anywhere. It seemed clear that the two of them were not on this floor, either.
“Is there another floor of exhibits?” she asked, interrupting Coffey in the midst of another monologue. “Could the boys have gone upstairs?”
“We have some offices there, and some storage, but little that they would find of interest, I’m sure,” Coffey replied and looked around, a frown forming on his forehead. “I was sure that we would find them up here. Perhaps at the diorama…”
He started down the hall, but at that moment, there was a clatter on the stairs behind them, and the twins appeared. In the mysterious way that Megan had grown accustomed to, the boys had acquired a liberal smattering of dust and stains on their clothes and persons, and even in their hair. She didn’t want to think about where they had been. She only hoped that nothing had been broken on their travels.