Abraham forced a smile. He wanted to put the woman at ease. “Perhaps you can help me understand this. You say each of you has had one child. One?” He let the word hang in the air between them.
Annabeth clasped and unclasped her hands. Apparently she was fighting an urge to bite her nails. They were already bitten to the quick. “Yes, Father. We have prayed for more issue. All of us. Daniel has instructed us to do that and we have. Every day. We have.”
“Is your child the youngest of my son’s offspring?”
Annabeth cleared her throat. “Yes, that’s right. She is three years old.”
“She.” Metcalf allowed a note of disappointment to creep into his voice.
The woman looked down at the table, flustered. “All Daniel’s children are girls, Father. All three of them. They are good girls, too. They never misbehave. They are pure in the eyes of the Lord.”
Abraham folded his arms and sat back in his chair, considering the facts he’d just been given. Something was quite amiss here. “Annabeth, when was the last time you and my son had relations?”
Apparently the woman had been dreading that he might ask this question. She looked at the floor, at the walls, at every spot in the room other than into Metcalf’s eyes.
“It has been some t…t…time, Father,” she faltered.
“How long, precisely?”
“Since before my daughter was born, sir.”
Abraham was appalled. “But that would be years, woman!”
“Yes, sir” she nodded vigorously. “About f…f…four years.”
Metcalf made an effort to control his temper. He wanted more information. Again he forced himself to smile. “You are one of the Lord’s chosen, Annabeth. A Consecrated Bride. Do you understand that?”
She seemed to relax a bit. “That is what our holy books say. We are not like the Fallen. We have been selected from among all the women of the earth to be God’s chosen vessels. It is through my children and the children of my Consecrated sisters that the Blessed Nephilim will increase the angelic kingdom.”
“Very true. Yet you are failing in your duty to increase the kingdom.”
“But—”
“Let me continue please.” Metcalf held up his hand to silence her. “It is often the case with a young husband that one of his wives can be overbearing.”
A look of panic crossed Annabeth’s face. “I…oh no, Father. Never! I would never do that!”
“As I was saying, if a wife is of a headstrong nature, she may intimidate her husband and he will not seek her company.”
“But I—”
Metcalf cut her off. “Annabeth, do you know what a Consecrated Bride’s principal duty is?”
“Of course, Father, of course. It is her principal duty in life to marry and bear her husband’s angelic offspring.” She recited the words as if by rote.
“And do you think you have fulfilled the duty of a Consecrated Bride?” he asked quietly.
“I have always—”
He broke in once more. “Perhaps you should search your conscience a little more. Perhaps you don’t deserve to be counted among the Consecrated.” Abraham stood up and towered over her. “You must pray, Annabeth.”
She looked up at him confusedly. “Father?”
“I want you to get on your knees now and ask the Lord to give you a more pliable disposition.”
“Just as you wish, Father.” She scrambled out of the chair and knelt beside the table.
“You must ask God to change your unruly temperament so that you may win back your husband’s affections.”
The woman bit her lip to keep it from quivering. Tears began to run down her cheeks.
Abraham turned his back and walked toward the door. “You must pray unceasingly, Annabeth. God is watching you. He is watching us all.”
Chapter 17 – Old School
Cassie was venturing into unknown territory. She had been driving for over an hour in a northwest direction. There was a map spread open on the passenger seat along with a page of hastily scrawled driving directions that Faye had given her over the phone. She was outside the metro area and off into farm country only this didn’t look like any part of Illinois that she’d seen before. Instead of flat cornfields, everything was hilly and wooded. “The place where the last glacier melted” was the way Faye had described it. The place where mountains of ice had carved hills and valleys and lakes and rivers into Illinois’ otherwise dull topography.
She passed through villages that might have been thriving a hundred years earlier, then crossed railroad tracks and bridges over rivers. The scenery became more wooded the farther she traveled, the roads became narrower and the traffic sparser. Eventually she was driving on roads with no center line, and then roads with no shoulder and finally on a road that was unpaved. Trees arched overhead, blocking out the sun. The underbrush on either side scraped against the doors of her car. In a small clearing, the dirt road ended abruptly. Noon sun flooded the glade with light and at its center stood a two-story white frame building. There was a bell tower over the front entrance.
Cassie didn’t see a “No Trespassing” sign to keep intruders away so she pulled her car over to one side of the clearing, got out, and walked toward the building. It looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting—an old fashioned country schoolhouse. The structure was at least a century old though the age was hard to guess because it was so well-maintained. The exterior had been recently painted and the grass was neatly trimmed. Hyacinth bloomed around the foundation. Cassie couldn’t see any other cars. Nobody seemed to be around.
The girl began to feel troubled. She still wasn’t entirely sure why she was going along with this or what she was going to see here. She felt defensive and on guard. “Proceed with caution,” she instructed herself.
Cassie walked up the three stairs leading to double front doors. Just as she touched the handle, the doors swung open. A young man in his early twenties with curly brown hair poked his head around the side and came to stand in front of her.
“Come in, please, come in. We’ve been expecting you. My name is Griffin.” He spoke with a British accent. “And you must be Cassie.” He held out his hand and shook hers briefly. “Faye has told me all about you and may I say how pleased I am to meet you at last!”
Even though his words were cordial, something about the reserved tone of his voice put Cassie a bit further on her guard. Maybe he was just being British, or maybe he felt uneasy in her presence for reasons she couldn’t quite figure out.
There was an awkward pause while they looked at one another for a few seconds. Cassie thought he was kind of good looking if a person could get past his twitchiness. She saw that he was dressed more formally than she was. He wore navy blue trousers, a white shirt, V-neck sweater and a striped tie. She felt as if she ought to be wearing a dress and heels instead of jeans, a sweater, and hiking boots.
“Right then,” Griffin forged ahead. “Please do come in. Maddie was taking an important phone call or she would have come down to meet you herself. This way, if you will.”
They walked through a small vestibule and on into the main room. The ceiling was about twelve feet high with globe chandeliers suspended from heavy chains. Tall stained glass windows took up the top half of each side wall. They ought to have given the building a churchlike quality but the scenes depicted in the windows all came from nature. Bright green forests, azure waterfalls, silver lilies and golden birds cast prismatic light across the center of the room. Right below the windows were several tiers of what looked like box seats. “I thought this was an old schoolhouse from the outside,” Cassie said as she took stock of her surroundings.
Griffin bobbed his head in agreement. “Yes, you’re quite right. This was a schoolhouse about a hundred and fifty years ago.”
“Kind of big and oddly furnished for an out of the way rural schoolhouse,” the girl observed.
“It doubled as the town hall, when there was a town out this way. That’s all
vanished now, of course. Railroads took the place of river transportation and the towns around waterways disappeared. And we’ve done some remodeling as well. The stained glass is new.”
Cassie’s attention turned to the center of the room. She expected to see rows of student desks but there weren’t any. Instead she was confronted with a polished round table big enough to seat thirty people. She counted the chairs just to be sure. There were thirty of them.
“You hold Renaissance Fairs here?” she asked dryly.
“I beg your pardon?” Griffin looked confused.
“You know, King Arthur, Knights of the Round Table, and all that stuff.”
“Oh, I see.” He laughed self-consciously. “No, not as such. Actually Arthur and his knights were not Renaissance figures.” He pronounced “Renaissance” like “ReNAYsonce.”
“They were most probably sixth century but there is no scholarly consensus on the exact date. In point of fact, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table are more closely associated with the Middle Ages than with the Renaissance. I suspect because Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Britanniae was written in the twelfth century and popularized in the courts of Europe at that time. Of course Welsh and Breton folktales about King Arthur do predate Mallory’s book. And then you have Chretien de Troyes adding the legend of Lancelot and the Holy Grail, well, as you can see…”
He trailed off when he noticed the dazed expression on Cassie’s face. “Sorry, more information than you could possibly require. I have an unfortunate tendency to provide irrelevant detail. I do beg your pardon.” He checked his verbal torrent and stood looking at her in mute embarrassment.
Cassie turned away to glance around the entire room. “So this is it? This is the giant vault Fay was telling me about? An empty schoolhouse with fancy bleachers and a big table?”
“Hardly.” Griffin gave her a thin smile. “Faye thought it best to introduce you to us in stages. Today you’re here to learn about the organization not the vault. Don’t want to overwhelm you all at once. This way please.”
Their footsteps made the oak floorboards creak as they crossed the main room to a door at the opposite end. It led to a short corridor that ran widthwise across the back of the building. At either end were exit doors and stairways that led up to the second floor.
Cassie followed her guide upstairs to stand in a short hallway that mirrored the one below. To their left was a corridor that ran the length of the building. As they walked down the hall Cassie glanced through the open doorways on either side. There were conference rooms and offices with desks but they were all empty. Nobody else was about and none of the rooms gave a hint of the kind of business that was conducted here.
Griffin continued walking to an unmarked door at the far end of the corridor. Cassie guessed it must be positioned right above the entry vestibule.
“Just a bit farther,” he said reassuringly. “In here.” He opened the door to reveal a spiral staircase. “We’re going up to the bell tower.”
They could hear a voice echoing down to them. It was a gravelly female voice and it was raised in anger.
Griffin smiled nervously. “That’s our Operations Director. Don’t worry, her bark is far worse than her bite. You have to take some of what she says with a grain of salt.”
“And let the chips fall where they may?” Cassie asked wryly.
“What?” Griffin looked puzzled.
“I thought we were swapping clichés.” She laughed.
“Oh, yes, of course. How stupid of me.” He cleared his throat and looked at his shoes. “Very amusing.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” Cassie felt instantly guilty.
“No, certainly, you didn’t.” He rushed to reassure her. “It’s me. I always…” He trailed off and then changed the subject. “Well, up we go.” He tried to sound cheerful as they climbed to the top of the staircase.
Chapter 18 – The World According To Maddie
Cassie peeked above the final spiral stair. To her surprise she found herself emerging in the middle of the bell tower. It was a bell tower in name only because the room had been remodeled and there was no bell anywhere to be seen. The open air tower had been fitted with glass picture windows. It was a bright, airy space, or it would have been if not for the smell of cigarette smoke. The atmosphere was thick with it. Cassie was about to make a comment but Griffin anticipated her.
“She would resign if we didn’t let her smoke somewhere in the building,” he whispered. His tone was apologetic.
The room was comfortably furnished with chairs and couches and tables.
“Is this her office?” Cassie asked in disbelief.
“No, her office is downstairs. This is a lounge area.”
“A smoker’s lounge?”
“That wasn’t our original intention but you’ll discover it’s very hard to say no to Maddie.”
They advanced into the room. There was a woman seated on a sofa near the front window. She was talking on the phone but gestured for them to draw closer. “Uh huh. Uh huh. Well you can tell him from me that he’ll get paid when he delivers. No, that’s not negotiable. Just tell him, all right?” She slammed down the receiver, looking irritated.
Griffin stepped forward. “Cassie, allow me to introduce Maddie, our Operations Director.”
Maddie rose to greet them. Her bangle bracelets clanked. She towered over Cassie and matched Griffin’s height which was about six feet. She looked to be in her fifties with an olive brown complexion and bushy hair that had been dyed a burgundy shade of red. When they shook hands, it made Cassie wince. Maddie’s grip was as powerful as her physique.
“My name’s Madeleine but everybody calls me Maddie.” There was a piercing quality to her eyes. Sharp and dark like obsidian arrowheads. “Have a seat.” She indicated a spot next to her on the couch.
Griffin remained standing. He looked at Maddie questioningly. “You’ll show her out when you’re done?”
She nodded.
“Right, I’ll leave you to it then. Until next time, Cassie.”
“Bye, Griffin.”
Maddie was scrutinizing a piece of paper and apparently wasn’t pleased with what she saw. She muttered something under her breath and tossed the page face down on the coffee table next to the phone.
“Like my work space?” She laughed ruefully. “My real office is downstairs but I needed a cigarette break so that’s why we’re meeting up here.”
She reached for a lighter that was balanced upright on an end table. Cassie noticed her fingernails—long red talons.
“Sorry about the smoke. Nasty habit. I keep trying to quit. Been trying for about ten years. I keep thinking it’ll be easier when the pace slows down around here.” She lit a cigarette and blew a puff of smoke up toward the ceiling. “Except that it never slows down around here.”
Cassie didn’t know exactly what to say. She must have looked sheepish because Maddie tried to put her at ease.
“Lots to take in, isn’t it? Your sister. Us.”
The girl nodded uncertainly. “I guess that’s why Faye sent me here. To get some answers.”
“Then you came to the right place, kiddo. I’ve got answers for everything. At least that’s what my colleagues tell me. Sometimes they don’t like my way of putting things. What do you want to know first?”
“That’s easy. It’s the thing I’ve been asking for weeks now. Who are you people?” The words were spoken before she could catch herself. Out loud, the question sounded abrupt and rude.
Maddie threw back her head and laughed. “You know, I ask them that all the time.”
“Maybe I should rephrase that. What is the Arkana exactly?”
“You’re not gonna start with something easy like what’s my favorite color?” Maddie teased. “It’s red in case you hadn’t guessed. But never mind that. Faye told me to give you the big picture and to give it to you fast. You’ll get down to the nitty-gritty soon enough.”
The Opera
tions Director settled herself back into the couch cushions. “How much has Faye told you about the name Arkana itself?”
“Nothing.” The girl shrugged.
“Arkana comes from the Latin verb ‘arcere’. It means to shut something up so you can to keep it safe. The noun is ‘arca’ which means a chest or strongbox. In English, ‘arca’ became ‘ark’ as in Noah’s ark, the ark of the covenant.”
“So you guys call yourselves the Arkana because you’re locking up all these old artifacts to keep them safe?”
Maddie paused a long moment, considering the question. “The artifacts aren’t the real treasure. They’re simply the physical proof that we haven’t always been the way we are now.”
The older woman glanced as Cassie. Noting the girl’s perplexed expression, she elaborated. “You have to sift through layer after layer of myth to get to the real truth. Let me explain by telling you a little story about a goddess names Gaia. Do you know who she is?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of her,” Cassie answered readily. “She was some old Greek earth goddess, right?”
“Some old Greek earth goddess.” Maddie snorted in disgust. “That’s pretty funny. Here’s your first lesson in mainstream mythology, kiddo. Nothing is ever what it seems. By the time the Hellenes started writing their origin myths, they’d already done some creative editing to the story that came before theirs. You see once upon a time there was a single creator goddess. She gave birth to everything. Life wasn’t a straight line back then. It was a circle. What came from the goddess went back to the goddess.
“Being straight line thinkers, and trying to set up a new heavenly hierarchy with Zeus at the top, the Hellenes didn’t like her very much. So they started chipping away—splitting her into lots of different pieces as a way to weaken her power. The part of her that was love and beauty was called Aphrodite. The part of her that was wisdom became Athena. The protector of wild creatures and the hunt was Artemis. Hera became the guardian of motherhood. The part of the goddess that ruled the fertility of all living things was called Gaia.
The Granite Key (Arkana Mysteries) Page 8