Abraham narrowed his eyes. “How much more will I need to take?”
“That is a very individual matter. Sometimes twice as much. Sometimes less. Of course, if you could do without it for a day or two, you won’t build up a tolerance as quickly.”
“Impossible!” The Diviner rejected the idea out of hand. “I have never slept this well before in my entire life. As my responsibilities increase, so does my need for rest. I cannot direct an organization of this size without proper rest!”
“Yes, of course.” Brother Andrew retreated.
“And far more than rest, I need to maintain my connection to the Lord.”
“I don’t understand.” The herbalist peered at him quizzically.
Abraham allowed his gaze to drift off into space. “This medicine has granted me visions of the world beyond. It has given me the power to discern things to come, to discourse with angels. I am the Lord’s chosen prophet. With this medicine I can, at last, hear His voice perfectly. I know His will with absolute certainty. I can execute his plan for the Nephilim with no hesitation.” Abraham trailed off, noticing the frightened look on Brother Andrew’s face. “You’ll simply have to make more,” he concluded awkwardly.
The herbalist said nothing at first, apparently weighing how much he wished to offend his leader. “There may come a time when you’ve built up an extreme tolerance...” He hesitated. “There may come a time when the medicine won’t work as you expect it to.”
“What do you mean?” The Diviner felt a sense of panic rising. To have finally found a solution to his problem and then have it snatched away was worse than never experiencing these sublime visions at all.
“It occasionally happens that the pleasant dreams are replaced by others.”
Metcalf raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Other not so pleasant dreams. And not merely dreams. You may begin to see... things... Strange shapes, phantasms during your waking hours.”
“Nonsense!” The Diviner waved his hand as if he were swatting a fly. “Until that day comes, you will supply me with as much of this medicine as I require. Is that understood?”
Brother Andrew gulped and nodded. “If the nightmares should return, you may wish to break off using the medicine. I feel obligated to warn you that stopping is far harder than starting was.” He stood and walked to a shelf near the window. Selecting a small brown bottle, he handed it to the Diviner. “This should last for about a week. In the meantime, I’ll distill more.”
Metcalf took the bottle and rose to leave. “Double the quantity you prepared last time. I don’t wish to run out.”
Brother Andrew scurried around the desk and blocked his path. “Please, sir, remember what I said. Even a prophet of the Lord is not immune to the effects of too much medicine.”
The Diviner laughed humorlessly. “I’m sure if that were true, the Lord Himself would give his prophet ample warning.”
Chapter 25—Upon Reflection
Cassie walked along the shoreline looking into the depths of the clearest lake she’d ever seen in her life. According to rumor, the water was even safe to drink. Lugu Lake was classified as “alpine” despite the fact that it was a continent away from Switzerland. The designation was most likely due to the lake’s nine-thousand-foot altitude. Lugu’s daunting elevation didn’t trouble the Pythia though. Thanks to her stint in Tibet she’d learned how to cope with thin air. The same locale had taught her another useful skill—how to drink yak butter tea without gagging. The beverage was as popular around Lugu Lake as in the Himalayas.
The three Arkana agents had just finished checking into their hotel in Luoshui – one of the many villages that rimmed the lake. Despite Cassie’s misgivings about Rou, the girl had proven herself an able travel guide. She had taken charge of booking their accommodations and gotten them on the right airplane to Lijiang and the right bus to the lake. At the moment, she was in the hotel lobby haggling over their bill with the proprietor. It seemed that Rou’s self-consciousness disappeared whenever she was speaking her own language.
Cassie scanned the architectural style of the buildings surrounding the lake and let out a soft chuckle. Given the evergreens and mountains, the hostelries in the area looked like Rocky Mountain ski lodges complete with knotty pine paneling in the guest rooms. The pagoda roofs offered the only hint that this wasn’t Colorado. The parallel to the Wild West was further emphasized by the cowboy hats and blue jeans that Mosuo men wore.
In contrast, Mosuo women were more likely to be seen in traditional attire—long white cotton skirts covered with elaborately embroidered jackets and sashes. Their headdresses were even more intricate than their clothing, consisting of thick black turbans festooned with beadwork, flowers and ropes of pearls.
The Pythia glanced at a group of Europeans avidly snapping photos of the lake, the surrounding mountains and a costumed villager posing in the foreground. Tourist season was just beginning to gear up and tourism was booming for the Mosuo. The anthropological oddity of a “Kingdom Of Women” advertised in travel brochures was an irresistible draw to both Asians and Westerners alike. It had transformed the previously obscure location of Lugu Lake into a must-see attraction. The natives were happy to oblige since tourist money had given them a prosperous lifestyle beyond the reach of most rural Chinese.
The Mosuo didn’t seem to mind that some visitors came to the lake in search of lax moral conduct. Han Chinese sex workers, dressed in Mosuo costume, had been imported to fulfill male tourist fantasies in a small red light district. The local women, as a rule, were more selective in their romantic partners than outsiders anticipated.
Lugu Lake had other attractions to offer besides the lurid prospect of nightly orgies. Nature buffs were drawn to its picturesque beauty and the best way to see that beauty was via pig-trough boat. The shallow-bottomed, square-ended skiffs were so named because they looked like feeding containers for swine. At the moment, several oarsmen sat at anchor waiting to row tourists across the water to get a closer view of the islands dotting the lake and the mountain beyond.
Griffin walked up beside Cassie, interrupting her reverie. “Amazing view, isn’t it?”
She turned. “Where’s Rou?”
The Scrivener laughed. “She’s still involved in a heated dispute with the innkeeper over the rate we’re being charged. I didn’t catch what she was saying but I suspect she’ll prevail in the end.”
“I think we underestimated her.” Cassie’s tone was rueful.
“She’s certainly proven her worth in getting us to this rather out-of-the-way speck on the map.” Griffin looked behind him. “Ah, here she is now. Is everything sorted out?”
Rou scurried up to them, looking flushed and mildly irritated. “The bill was wrong.”
“Thanks for straightening things out for us.” The Pythia gave an encouraging smile.
Rou bobbed her head in acknowledgment. Ill at ease with the direct compliment, she immediately changed the subject. Pointing straight across the lake from where they were standing, she announced, “Gemu Goddess Mountain.”
“I can see why somebody would have picked that mountain as the home of a goddess,” Cassie observed. “The shape is really unusual.”
Rising on the opposite side of the lake was a long flat-topped mountain. It’s upper half, devoid of trees, appeared golden brown in the afternoon light.
“It almost looks like an animal crouching,” the Pythia observed. “A tiger or maybe a lion stalking its prey.”
“It was once called ‘Lion Mountain’,” the girl informed them.
Griffin, who had been casually gazing at the scenery, swung abruptly to face Rou. “What did you say?”
She took a frightened step backward.
“Griffin!” Cassie warned. “Ease off.”
Recovering, the Scrivener apologized. “I’m terribly sorry, Rou. I didn’t mean to alarm you. You said that the peak across the lake was once known as ‘Lion Mountain’?”
The girl nodded warily. “In a
ncient times.”
“Good grief! I’m a complete idiot.” Griffin sloped off to a bench next to the water. Puzzled, his two companions followed him and sat down.
“You want to explain why?” Cassie prompted.
He sighed and raked his hands through his hair. “The riddle. It all makes sense now.”
“Riddle?” Rou ventured uncertainly.
Cassie took up the explanation. “Each of the artifacts we’re trying to find is inscribed with a riddle to help us locate the next one. The current clue stumped us both. It says: ‘The kindred stir upon the high sharp peak where the river flows red to the serpent's heart. Under the lawgiver’s glare, its coils tremble in the mirror at the lion’s feet’.”
The girl seemed no less baffled by the attempt at clarification. “Lion’s feet?”
“Yes, Rou, lion!” Griffin announced triumphantly. “As in Lion Mountain. I feel confident that I can decipher the clue completely now.” The Scrivener’s eyes had taken on a feverish glow which Cassie interpreted as a good sign. It usually meant he was on the verge of making an important discovery.
“So spill already!” the Pythia commanded.
He grinned happily. “The confusion arose because we both thought the lion’s feet of the riddle referred to Regulus in the constellation of Leo. Though Regulus does factor into the time of year for our search, quite a different lion points to the location of the artifact. We are being instructed to look near the foot of Lion Mountain. And what do we find there? A lake. All lakes are reflective surfaces, or mirrors, if you will. So the mirror in which the serpent’s coils tremble is the lake itself. It reflects a shimmering image of the constellation Serpens in the night sky which makes the great snake appear to tremble.”
“Oh.” Rou sat forward, gazing with newfound interest at the body of water before her.
“If the Minoans are running true to form, then I’ll bet they hid the artifact in a cave on the mountain.” Cassie groaned. “That’s a lot of real estate to cover.”
“I believe I can cut our search by three-quarters,” Griffin countered.
Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. “You’re being oddly precise with that estimate.”
“I’m quite convinced that the specific constellations named in the riddle can tell us which side of the mountain to search. Both Leo and Serpens are prominent in the southern sky during the summer months.”
“I’ll take a wild guess and say we search the south side of the mountain,” Cassie ventured.
“And I would heartily concur.” Griffin scowled as he contemplated the mountain. “Which way are we facing now?”
“North,” Rou piped up helpfully. “We are viewing the south side of the mountain.”
“Excellent.” Griffin rubbed his hands together with glee.
“Gemu Goddess Cave is facing us,” the girl added.
Both Griffin’s and Cassie’s smiles faded.
The Pythia said, “Just to be clear. You mean the tourist cave that’s listed in the brochure? The one with a cable car that drops dozens of people right at the entrance. That cave?”
“That cave.” Rou seemed mystified by their reaction. “Good, right?”
“Not good,” the Pythia retorted. “So not good!” She turned to her colleague. “Griffin, it’ll be a repeat of Kailash all over again. Honestly, I don’t think I can take another night of flashlights and frostbite and being kidnapped.”
Rou looked from one to the other in helpless distress.
“Cassie, do calm down. We don’t know with certainty that the Minoans hid anything in that particular cave. Let’s investigate first, shall we?”
The Pythia stood up and dusted off her jeans. “OK, but we both already know how Murphy’s Law works. I’ll wait til we get up there to say ‘I told you so’.”
Chapter 26—Antipodal Alliance
Joshua Metcalf stowed his gear in the back seat of Chopper Bowdeen’s rental car. The mercenary had come to pick him up personally at the Melbourne Airport. The spymaster climbed into the left front seat and Chopper darted away from the curb.
As the breeze ruffled his hair, Joshua made a vain attempt to smooth it down. “I’ve never ridden in a convertible before.”
Chopper couldn’t tell from his tone whether he was offended or simply making conversation. “Nothing like it in the world, son. We both spend too many hours cooped up indoors. You need to breathe in some fresh air.”
Joshua gave a noncommittal smile.
They rode in silence through the suburban area that surrounded the airport and then onward to the valley. Although the airport was far removed from the center of town, it still looked like an extension of the city. This urban feel eventually gave way to acres of vineyards and rolling green fields encircled by mountains.
The spymaster took note of the changing landscape. “I’m surprised that the brotherhood succeeded in finding such a remote location. We aren’t that far from Melbourne, are we?”
“No, not too far,” Bowdeen agreed. “But we’re in the Yarra Valley which is mainly agricultural. It’s far enough from the big city to give some privacy to what goes on here.”
They drove in silence until the car approached a narrow dirt lane branching off from the main highway on the right. Instead of turning into the lane, Chopper pulled onto the shoulder across the way and parked the car near a row of gum trees for shade.
The spymaster turned quizzically toward his companion.
“Let’s get out and stretch our legs here,” Chopper suggested. “There are a few things I wanted to talk over with you before we go inside.”
Joshua nodded and complied.
The two men strolled along the shoulder of the road and took up a position near the trunk of a tree.
“Well, this is it,” Chopper began conversationally. “The last compound on the last continent. My work for the Nephilim is done. You can take it from here with my blessing.”
“What will you do now?” Joshua asked casually.
The mercenary hesitated. “That all depends.”
“On what?”
He stared the spymaster directly in the eye. “On whether your father will let me go or not.”
Surprisingly, Joshua didn’t try to reassure him of the Diviner’s good intentions.
That fact alone gave Chopper a sense of foreboding. “Son, is there something you should be telling me?”
Joshua sighed and cast a furtive glance toward his colleague. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. There are things...” he trailed off and seemed on the point of walking back toward the car.
Bowdeen stepped between him and the vehicle. “What things?” he urged.
Joshua appeared unwilling to meet his gaze. He turned aside but murmured, “I’ve recently discovered some facts that are upsetting, to say the least.”
“Something that concerns me?”
“It might,” the spymaster hedged. He retraced his steps and leaned against the tree trunk. Folding his arms across his chest, he asked, “Do you remember when you asked me to look into a secret lab several miles away from the main compound?”
The hair stood up on the back of Chopper’s neck. Despite his original intention to uncover Metcalf’s master plan, he felt he was on the brink of finding out something he really didn’t want to know. “Sure do.”
“It seems the foreign doctor running that lab has been tasked with developing some kind of lethal substance. I don’t know what it is or what its intended purpose may be.”
“Way back when we talked about this last, you mentioned that the Diviner was having you round up ne’er-do-wells in the congregation. Did they end up in that lab?”
Joshua nodded. “Yes, I was able to confirm that much. The doctor who runs the lab would send a driver to the collection point to take them away.”
“And what happened to them after that?” Bowdeen feared he already knew the answer.
“They were never seen again,” Joshua murmured furtively.
“Seems the Diviner fo
und some use for them after all.”
“That isn’t what worries me.” The spymaster started pacing around the base of the tree.
Bowdeen stood back and watched him for a few minutes, waiting for an explanation.
Finally, Joshua wheeled around and said, “My father is no longer distinguishing between the evil and the innocent.”
Chopper blinked. He didn’t know what to make of that statement. “Come again?”
“Let me go back to the beginning.” Joshua took a deep breath. “Last fall, my Brother Daniel’s principal wife suffered a mental collapse. She had just lost a baby and became emotionally unstable. Her behavior couldn’t be controlled. Ordinarily, we send disruptive wives to hospitals where they can be sedated. Some can be rehabilitated. The ones who can’t be are shut away but they aren’t physically harmed. This month, my father announced that Annabeth had died of a contagious disease while at the hospital. Her body was cremated to avoid infecting the Nephilim.”
Chopper shrugged, not seeing how these facts pertained to him. “Sounds like a tragic accident to me.”
Joshua slid down against the tree trunk and sat unceremoniously on the ground.
The mercenary crouched down beside him, wishing the spymaster would come to the point.
“I decided to do some checking on the circumstances surrounding Annabeth’s death. She never went to the usual hospital we use for such cases. The Diviner privately arranged for a hired car to deliver her to the collection point. I was taken out of the loop entirely.”
Bowdeen gave a low whistle. “Your father sure didn’t want you to know about this.”
Joshua laughed bitterly. “He didn’t want anyone to know about it. Even Daniel, her husband, has been kept in the dark as to the circumstances of her death.” He paused, weighing his next words. “Once I’d discovered that the malefactors I had collected were being sentenced to death, I still believed my father’s actions were just. Their punishment was merited. But Annabeth’s sin was nothing more than immoderate grief at the death of her son. There was no justice in sentencing her to such a fate.”
Secrets Of The Serpent's Heart (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 6) Page 14