The Mountain Mother Cipher (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 2)

by N. S. Wikarski

  Maddie remained uncharacteristically silent. An owl hooted softly in one of the ancient oak trees at the back of the garden.

  “After their parents’ death, Sybil became obsessed with protecting her sister—making sure neither one of them became easy targets for the Nephilim or any other artifact thieves. They moved constantly. Cassie never had time to catch her breath much less make a single friend while Sybil was bustling her around the country. When I first met her, the poor child was defensive and belligerent, betraying just how insecure she felt. Unfortunately, much of the blame for that distress belongs to Sybil. Our late Pythia was so focused on her sister’s physical safety that she forgot all about her emotional well-being. Cassie never felt safe anywhere or with anyone.”

  The Operations Director watched a lightening bug crawl onto one of the Chinese lanterns, adding a strobe effect. “For somebody who spends so little time at headquarters, it amazes me how much you seem to know about all of this,” she remarked.

  Faye gave a little shrug. “I don’t need to spend much time at headquarters. The world has a habit of finding its way to my door as a matter of course.”

  “I’m not just talking about Cassie and Sybil. You seem to know exactly what’s going on at the Arkana all the time. I bet if I asked you to tell me the last artifact reported from Japan, you could.”

  “It was the Jomon trove, I believe. A clay figurine of a mother goddess unearthed last week.” Faye retrieved her mug and took another sip of coffee.

  “You see!” Maddie exclaimed. “How do you do that?”

  The old woman smiled. “Like most people nowadays, I have both a cell phone and a computer, dear.”

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it,” the Operations Director challenged. “It’s almost like you pull the intel right out of thin air.”

  “Perhaps I do,” Faye replied cryptically. “Perhaps I’m tuned in, as the saying goes.”

  Throwing up her hands in exasperation, Maddie went back into the house to fetch the coffee pot. She returned and refilled both their cups. When she resettled herself, she changed the subject. “You know, it’s kind of ironic.”

  “What is, dear?” Faye had lost the line of Maddie’s reasoning.

  “About Sybil, I mean. She spent her whole life fixated on protecting Cassie and in the end she couldn’t protect either one of them.”

  “It was more than ironic. It was tragic.” Faye grew silent as she contemplated a new idea. “And yet it’s also true that Sybil’s obsession, and the estrangement it created, may have helped soften the blow for Cassie when the end came.”

  “Huh?”

  The old woman elaborated. “One can’t miss what one has never had.”

  “You mean like a real relationship with a real sister?” the Operations Director asked archly.

  “Quite so,” the Memory Guardian agreed. “Once she passed through the initial shock of her sister’s murder, Cassie adjusted rapidly. I suspect learning about us and her special place in our organization may have helped ease the transition for her.”

  “Sure, as long as she doesn’t think about the fact that we’re the reason her sister died in the first place. We might even be the reason why she never had a good relationship with Sybil when she was alive. Not to mention the fact that we’re the reason her parents are dead too. When you put all those things together, it seems like she ought to hate us.”

  Faye shook her head. “But she doesn’t. I believe she thinks of us in a positive way. We’re the people who gave her a sense of belonging. A purpose in life. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too high-flown to say we revealed her destiny to her.”

  Maddie scowled, unconvinced. “I wonder if Sybil would thank you for that. When she was alive, she moved heaven and earth to keep Cassie away from the Arkana.”

  Faye tipped her head to one side, considering the idea. “I wasn’t the one who made Cassie a Pythia. As for Sybil. She was the one who sent Cassie to us.”

  Maddie leaned back in her chair and gazed at the stars. “It is kind of strange. That chain of events.”

  “One might almost say it was Fate.” The corners of Faye’s mouth twitched slightly. “If one believed in such things.”

  Another owl hooted from the top of the pergola. Its mate in the oak tree called back.

  “You must have spent a lot of time with Cassie to know so much about her.”

  “We met three times.”

  “All of three times?” Maddie turned her head to stare at Faye appraisingly. “You see. That proves my point. It’s unnatural how much you know.”

  “Just call me a keen judge of character.” Faye serenely finished the rest of her coffee. “One can’t have lived as many years as I have without honing one’s observational skills.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Maddie disagreed. “There are millions of people in nursing homes who couldn’t tell you what they ate for breakfast. I think you’re fairly unique.”

  “Then call it my special gift if you will. A certain economy of perception that frees up my time to pursue other interests.”

  “Like baking?” Maddie teased. “You sure do seem to enjoy spending time in the kitchen.”

  “Which reminds me. I just finished frosting a chocolate cake. Would you like to take some home with you?”

  Chapter 16 – Religious Inexperience

  Daniel paused to catch his breath. The altitude was making him light-headed. They had been climbing up a steep dirt path well above the tree line of Mount Ida. The mountain was now known as Psiloritis, the tallest peak on the island of Crete. In the distance ahead of him, the trail ended at a gaping hole in a solid wall of rock.

  His companion Nikos panted as he caught up with him. “We are here, Brother Scion. This is the cave they call Ideon Andron—the childhood home of the heathen god Zeus.”

  The son of the Diviner studied the landscape for a moment. He was surprised at the immense size of the cave entrance. It looked like a train tunnel. To complete the impression, iron tracks ran directly into the cave. Daniel wasn’t sure of their purpose. The gauge was too narrow for a regular train. That was a minor mystery and not one he was here to solve. His purpose this day was to find the first artifact—one of the Bones Of The Mother.

  As he and his companion trudged the remaining distance to the cave entrance, Daniel felt the gloom of his predicament settle over him. What was he doing here? Returning to this dusty, rock-strewn country brought back some very unpleasant memories. During his last visit to Crete, he had stood by and allowed three people to die. And for what? To carry out his father’s will. Since that time he had disabused himself of the notion that God’s will and his father’s were one and the same.

  So many things had changed in his world over the course of the past two months. He had seen more of the Fallen Lands than many of his brethren would experience in a lifetime. Though he could never tell his father this, the outside world didn’t seem to be an unpleasant sort of place at all. Not the Sodom and Gomorrah he had expected. Certainly the women adorned themselves more. They painted their faces and wore bright clothing. Even the men wore jewelry. Golden watches and rings and necklaces. Aside from vanity, the Fallen didn’t display any obviously vicious or immoral behavior. They seemed, for the most part, friendly. Far less tense and worried than his own Nephilim brethren. Perhaps being damned carried certain advantages, he thought bitterly. There was no need to try. One who had no hope of entering the blessed kingdom could do as one pleased. For a single frightening second, he wished he was one of them. Then he smothered the thought. That idea was surely the Devil’s doing.

  “Look here, Brother Scion.”

  Daniel snapped himself out of his reverie to see where Nikos was pointing. To the left of the cave entrance was an immense stone outcropping that had been shaped by human hands. It looked like stairs for giants. “What is this?” he asked.

  “It was once an altar where offerings were made to the pagan god Zeus. See up there, on the topmost step.”


  Daniel looked upward to what appeared to be a rectangular stone slab. It was large enough to be a stage much less an altar. He turned his attention back to the entrance of the cave. “You understand what we are searching for?”

  “Yes, of course.” Nikos bobbed his head vehemently. “The same symbols you came to find before. I still have the photographs.” He waved the snapshots in front of Daniel’s face. “We are to look at the walls and ceiling of the cavern for these signs.”

  Daniel was about to advance but Nikos laid a restraining hand on his arm.

  “Please. You must take this.” The young convert handed him a flashlight. “It will be very dark at the back of the cavern.”

  The Scion nodded and took the flashlight. He glanced behind them down the trail. There were no other tourists about. Nor did he see any sign of the archaeologists who were reputed to be digging here. That was good. Daniel didn’t want any curious eyes watching them. He was glad Leroy Hunt had decided to wait for them at the taverna at the bottom of the hill. He always tended to attract attention wherever he went because of his cowboy attire.

  Since Nikos was a Cretan by birth, he seemed to feel it his duty to act as tour guide. “It was in this cave that the god Zeus spent his childhood. His mother the goddess Rhea gave birth to him in another cave on the island but moved him here to hide him better from his father Cronos who would have eaten him.”

  “Yes, I am aware of the heathen myth,” Daniel commented. “I also know that the winged demons called Kouretes protected the infant. Whenever he cried, they would beat their shields and make enough noise to muffle the sound of his wailing. That way his father wouldn’t know he was still alive.” He had spent weeks researching the strange deities of Greece. The notion of a father devouring his own son might once have felt alien to him. It didn’t now.

  “There is something I have never understood about this myth,” Nikos said. “If Zeus is called the Father Of The Gods and all are descended from him, then how can he have a mother?”

  Daniel raised his eyebrows. “I’m not sure.”

  “And also, the pagans say that he was born in a cave and each year he dies in a cave. If he is an immortal god, how can he die?”

  The Scion shook his head. “There is a great deal about the heathen religions that makes no sense. The ancient peoples had the minds of children. They did not use reason as we do.”

  Seemingly satisfied with that explanation, Nikos switched on his flashlight and moved forward.

  The two men left the sunny afternoon behind and descended down a steep flight of stairs into the recesses of the Ideon Andron.

  Daniel had learned much about the cave and its structure on the internet and in books. The main chamber of the cavern was approximately 150 feet wide with two horizontal chambers leading to an inner sanctum. He knew all the facts about the place but nothing in his research had prepared him for the actual experience of entering it. He became aware of the dampness. Water dripping from the ceiling and trickling down the walls. The wooden viewing platform was slippery. Green moss grew from the stones high above his head.

  From where he stood at the bottom of the central chamber, he looked up toward the cave mouth illuminated by a bright blue sky. As he stepped back a few paces, he felt a line of shadow cross his face. The darkness seemed to swallow him.

  The side chambers had been blocked off because of the archaeological excavation. Since nobody was around, Daniel decided there was nothing to prevent them from investigating the inner recesses of the cave. The two men agreed to split up. Nikos would search one of the side chambers while Daniel searched the other. As the Scion slipped past the gate and moved down the gallery, he could no longer hear Nikos’ footsteps echoing off in the other direction. He became acutely aware of how still this underworld was.

  Following the twists and turns in the tunnel caused him to lose his orientation. It grew increasingly dark. No brightness from the outside world reflected on the walls in here. Only the meager beam of his flashlight. The rock walls on either side were so narrow in places they seemed to fold in on him.

  He trained his light toward the ceiling. Wavy curtains of stalactites pressed down from above, their bottom-most tips dripping with moisture. Looking up at them made him feel dizzy. He studied the walls for any evidence of the symbols from the key. The bare rock swirled and twisted into grotesque shapes. Daniel’s mind began to play tricks. He saw faces in the stone. Lost souls feeling the torments of hell. Their mouths gaping in endless screams of terror.

  He continued moving down the gallery searching the walls and ceiling as he went but all he found were unnerving images from hell. By now, he knew he was far beyond the reach of the world above. With no warning, his flashlight faltered and went out completely. He shook it to reseat the battery but accidentally dropped it. He could hear it rolling down the slope in the tunnel floor.

  He fought the urge to scream as a surge of panic shot through him. He felt the darkness like a living thing. It was pressing into his eyes and ears and nose. He lost all sense of spacial orientation. Everything seemed to be tilted at an angle. Which way was up? Which was down? He couldn’t feel the dimensions of his own body. He tried guiding his fingers to reach for a wall but his fingers weren’t where he expected them to be. Nor was the wall. He flailed around in an absolute void.

  He didn’t like this underworld. He couldn’t understand why anyone would choose such a place to worship a god. He was used to divinities who lived in the sky. Worship was conducted from a pulpit by a minister who told him what laws God expected him to obey.

  There was no law here. There was no reason here. That had been left behind in a world of light and order and the works of man. Here there was only feeling. What kind of god might one meet here? Nothing in Daniel’s religion had prepared him for an encounter with the deity of this place. He was sure it wasn’t Zeus. Something older than time itself lived in the silence here and it marked his presence. He remembered a word he had discovered while researching the heathen religions. Chthonic. Primordial deities that presided over birth and death. Womb and tomb seemed to fuse together in this place. The combination unsettled him. Weren’t they supposed to be distinct? He felt his mind, his very identity, collapsing into the darkness.

  He dropped to all fours. At least he could feel the ground. He knew which way was down. Groping around, he finally grasped the cold metal tube of the flashlight. He tapped it sharply against the stone and tried switching it on again. A feeble beam of light emerged.

  Daniel scrambled to his feet and ran out of the gallery, afraid that the battery would fail for good if he lingered to complete his search. He shouted for Nikos and told him to come outside when he was done. Racing up the stairs toward the sky, he felt his legs trembling under him. He leaned heavily against a boulder at the cave entrance, commanding himself to calm down. For several minutes he did nothing but concentrate on breathing in and out. Slowly, by degrees, he felt the ordinary nature of the world returning. Even so, he couldn’t shake the sensation that something—a shadow of something—had glided across his soul. Was it evil? The devil? He didn’t think so. It hadn’t felt either good or bad. It was simply a presence. A something alive inside the darkness.

  He felt the need to climb high to shake it off. He turned to look up at the altar stone several feet above where he stood. He scaled the boulders until he reached the top of the stone table. From here he could see the Nida plateau below where the earth was blanketed in summer green. Small white dots speckled the landscape - sheep grazing peacefully. He took comfort in those ordinary sights. His shallow breathing finally relaxed. He sank down heavily on the altar, his feet dangling over the edge.

  From this vantage point, his began to reconsider his strategy for finding the relic. He realized it had been a mistake to search the cavern on the mountain and not simply because it unnerved him. He thought of the words of the riddle. “When the soul of the lady rises with the sun.” Surely, this referred to something in the sky and not in the groun
d. The eastern sky to be exact. This altar table where he sat faced east. From here he might see something dawning in the eastern sky. But what? The three clues were all a muddle that made no sense.

  Daniel rubbed his forehead wearily as a disturbing thought struck him. How could he be sure he had the right translation of the riddle at all? He hadn’t actually looked at the symbols himself. He had relied on the interpretation of the strangers that Hunt had killed. What if they had been wrong? What if they had translated the glyphs incorrectly?

  He knew what he had to do and the thought of it upset him even more than the idea of encountering that thing in the darkness again. He would have to go back to Karfi. The place where three bodies were buried under an avalanche of rock at the bottom of an underground tomb. He would have to look at the carvings on the stone stele and decipher what was written there for himself.

  Chapter 17 – Father Of Lies

  Abraham strode purposefully through the door of the girl’s dormitory. He glanced down the long row of vacant cots, the blankets all folded with the precision of a military barracks. On a bed at the opposite end of the room sat a lone figure. Her back was turned to him and her head was bent.

  She didn’t look around to see who was coming even when his footfalls clicked loudly across the polished wooden floor.

  “Hannah!” he barked.

  She jumped up and spun around. “Oh my goodness! Father Diviner.” An object flew out of her hand and clattered to the floor.

  Abraham bent down to pick it up. It was some sort of doll. About four inches long and carved out of a solid piece of wood. The figure of a woman in a long straight gown. Her arms were pressed stiffly against her body. An attempt had been made to give the carving some life with a layer of paint. The hair was yellow and the lips pink against a cream face. The eyes and the dress were both painted blue though the color had been chipped and rubbed away in many places. The face itself was expressionless and discomfiting. Like a sphinx. The Diviner found the entire effect grotesque. He turned it over in his hands. “What is this thing?”