The Arkana Mysteries Boxed Set

by N. S. Wikarski

  “Overlord cultures,” Cassie exclaimed, finally comprehending. “Now I understand what Faye was talking about.”

  “Oh, there’s much more to the story of what turned them into aggressive, sky god worshippers but I think the Anatolian trove keeper may have more insight to offer on that topic than I do.”

  “When do we get to meet him?” Cassie asked eagerly.

  Griffin took a sip of his Turkish coffee. “If all goes as planned, tomorrow afternoon. We have to travel to the dig site first, of course, but he did say he would have time to speak with us when we arrived.”

  Cassie gazed out over the darkening water and noticed with a start that the sun had already set. She hadn’t realized how long they’d been talking. “I think we need to get some actual sleep before we pick up and go anyplace else.” She rose and turned to regard Erik who was snoring slightly. Pursing her lips, she said, “Guess we should wake him up and tell him to go to bed.”

  She was about to nudge Erik when Griffin stopped her. Poising his foot to deliver a well-aimed kick to the legs of Erik’s chair, he said, “Please allow me to do the honors.”

  Chapter 11 – Flight of Angels

  Leroy Hunt looked at his wristwatch and let out a bored sigh. This flight was taking forever. He didn’t much care for flying to begin with. Airplanes always seemed like coffins with wings. “If God had wanted us to fly,” his momma always said, “He’d have made us rich enough to afford a plane ticket.” He chuckled at the memory. If momma could see him now. She’d been praying over his soul right up to the day she died. Bet she’d be proud to know that he was rubbing elbows with churchy folk these days. Hell, the Nephilim claimed they were part angel. You couldn’t get any churchier than that. According to crazy old Abraham, Leroy was actually doing the Lord’s work. That was neither here nor there as far as he was concerned. He got paid real well and sometimes got to shoot folks, which he always enjoyed. Leroy believed that unless you were aiming at a live target, you were just wasting good ammo.

  He cast a glance at the man in the window seat who was literally rubbing elbows with him. He sighed again. The only part of this job he didn’t relish was babysitting the old man’s weasel of a son. Daniel was about as hangdog and gutless a piece of humanity as Leroy had ever seen. Hunt bitterly recalled the time when Daniel had interfered with his hired duty to kill those three thieves who wanted to get to the relics before the Nephilim did. Messing with God’s plan for the merchandise, as it were. Leroy never mentioned the incident to the boy’s daddy, but he never forgot it. Didn’t like the kid and didn’t trust him either.

  Hunt reached up and pressed the call button for the stewardess. When she arrived, he asked, “Darlin’, think you could scare up another one of them tiny bottles of whiskey?”

  He looked ruefully at the three dead soldiers already lined up on his tray table. Even booze couldn’t seem to move this boat any faster.

  The stewardess poured him another drink. He downed it in two gulps and then turned his attention to the sad sack next to him. Daniel was staring at his computer like he was praying over the dead.

  “I see you got yourself a new toy,” Hunt observed.

  Daniel jumped and stopped mumbling to himself. “Sorry?”

  “Your shiny new computer, son,” Leroy hinted.

  “Oh, yes that.” Daniel collected his wits. “Father gave me permission to have one because I told him we could recover the artifacts much quicker if I had my own access to information on the internet.”

  Hunt registered surprise. “You mean none of you all got computers of your own?”

  Daniel shook his head. “Only Father and the heads of the other compounds are permitted to have them. Father believes the internet is a corrupting influence.”

  Leroy chuckled. “He ain’t wrong about that. You stumbled across any free porn sites yet?”

  The young man peered at him earnestly. “I don’t know what that word means. Is porn an abbreviation for something?”

  His companion let out a guffaw and slapped his knee. “Hooee! I tell you what, boy. You’re greener than acorns in June! Porn is short for bare-naked ladies gettin’ up to all sorts of mischief and lettin’ us fellers watch.”

  Daniel blushed to the roots of his hair follicles. “I… I… I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  Still grinning, Leroy replied. “No, I don’t expect you would’ve. Your daddy likes to run a tight ship. Still and all, can’t say that you’d need to watch porn much since you got all them wives. What’s the body count up to now?”

  “Four,” Daniel said in a tight voice. “I have four wives.”

  “Must keep you busy most nights,” Leroy opined.

  “I’d rather talk about something else.”

  His companion nodded affably. “OK, no harm in askin’.” He tilted his head in the direction of the computer. “Then if it ain’t porn, what are you starin’ at on that screen?”

  The young man transferred his gaze back to the monitor. “I’m trying to find as much information as I can about the Idaean Cave.”

  “The Idea cave?” Leroy repeated, bemused.

  “I-D-A-E-A-N.” Daniel spelled out the word. “It’s a cave on Mount Ida where we are most likely to find the first relic.”

  Leroy studied the image on Daniel’s computer. “It looks like a big hole in the side of a hill, son. What makes it so special?”

  “The cave was sacred to the heathens of the island. The Minoans built a shrine there several thousand years ago which was then taken over by the Greeks. In the original myth, the Minoan goddess gave birth in that cave to the annual god of fertility. Actually, there are two caves on the island associated with the myth, but our clue points to the one located on Mount Ida. When the Greeks conquered Crete, they changed the myth to say that their chief god Zeus was born in the cave.”

  “Oh, I heard of him. Big fella with a white beard. Liked to wrap hisself up in a bed sheet and run around smitin’ folks with lightnin’ bolts. Ain’t that the guy?”

  Daniel cast a dubious look toward the man seated beside him. “Why, yes, Mr. Hunt. Zeus was associated with lightening in many of the myths. As for the bed sheet, it’s called a toga.”

  “Don’t care what it’s called,” Leroy retorted. “It ain’t manly attire.”

  Ignoring the comment, Daniel retrieved a map on his computer. “We’re flying to Heraklion. Over here, you see?” He pointed to a dot on the northeast coast of the island.

  “Yup, I gotcha.”

  “Brother Nikos will hire a car and meet us at the airport.”

  “Oh, so it’s Brother Nick again, is it?” Leroy flashed briefly on the little rat-faced convert who sucked up to Daniel because he was the son of the diviner. He’d be over the moon knowing the kid had been promoted to something called a scion.

  “Yes, he will drive us to Mount Ida which is over here.” He pointed to another dot on the map, southwest of Heraklion.

  “So, the two of you plan on crawlin’ over rock piles again like you done last time?” Leroy asked bleakly.

  “Fortunately, the area we will have to cover is very small. It’s a single cave, Mr. Hunt.”

  “Still, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll wait for the pair of you at the nearest tavern.”

  “As you wish.”

  Leroy pulled his cowboy hat over his eyes and pretended to doze off. He didn’t want to shoot the breeze with the kid any more. This was shaping up to be even more dismal than the first trip. But then again, he consoled himself, somebody might turn up who needed shooting. That thought was a comfort.

  Leroy had a couple of other comforting thoughts to keep him warm. No matter what Daniel said and no matter what his daddy said, Hunt was sure there was money in those relics. He wanted to stick close and see what shook out. Maybe if the kid turned up something valuable enough, Leroy might help the little punk to have an accident and go into business for himself.

  Hunt wasn’t the only one
forming a new game plan. The cowboy’s mind drifted back to the last conversation he had with Daniel’s old man. Abraham had asked him for the name of somebody who had experience with weapons training, but Metcalf wouldn’t tell him why. Leroy had put him in touch with an army buddy. Maybe it was worth hanging around just to find out what the old coot had up his sleeve. Hunt was sure he could turn it to his advantage somehow. His momma always told him, “Leroy, you’re too smart for your own good.” He didn’t think so. Not too smart. Just smart enough to make it pay.

  Chapter 12 – Consummate Deception

  Annabeth skidded to a stop in front of the heavy oak door. She took a moment to smooth her hair and straighten her apron. She waited several seconds for her breathing to slow down. It didn’t want to cooperate. Her heart was still hammering a mile a minute even though she mentally willed herself to be calm. She jammed her left hand into her apron pocket, fighting the urge to bite off a hang nail. In all her life, she never thought she would do something this bold. Request a personal interview with the diviner. She’d almost hoped he would refuse to see her. But then, she supposed, since she was one of the wives of the new scion that gave her some special status. She braced herself and knocked on the door.

  A deep growl from the other side of the partition told her to enter. The sound almost made her squeak in fright, but she did as she was told.

  The diviner was standing in front of a Bible lectern on the far side of the room. He didn’t turn around. “Sit down, Annabeth,” he instructed.

  She looked around nervously for a chair. She had never been inside his prayer closet before. Directly to her right she saw a small table and two chairs. She dove into the nearest seat and folded her hands in her lap to wait.

  Father Abraham resumed reading his Bible.

  Annabeth glanced up at the portrait of the last diviner which hung above the table. She averted her gaze just as quickly. The face seemed to be staring directly back at her in an attitude of stern disapproval.

  “What do you wish to speak to me about?”

  She jerked to attention. The diviner was walking across the room toward where she sat.

  He took the chair opposite and waited for her reply.

  She cast her eyes down at the floor in confusion. “I’m sorry to bother you, Father. I… I… know how busy you must be.”

  “Yes,” he said coldly. “My time is valuable. I don’t want it wasted on trifles.”

  She gathered the courage to look at him. Her hands were no longer folded in her lap. They were clenched together in a tight little ball. She wanted to fly out of the room, but she had to hold her ground and speak. Her own salvation was at stake. “I have come to tell you some news.” She hesitated. There was no good way to say this.

  “Yes?” His tone was impatient.

  “I… uh… I think there may be something wrong with the scion’s new union.”

  “What?’ he bellowed, rising and standing above her. “What on earth are you jibbering about, woman?”

  She tried to blink back the tears, but she had been on edge for so long that it all came flooding out and she began to sob. Hiding her face in her hands, she bent over the table and cried.

  The spectacle took Father Abraham by surprise. He seemed perplexed and sat back down. “There, there,” he said stiffly. “There’s no need for tears, Annabeth. Now, what is the problem?”

  She blew her nose, sniffled and tried to regain control. “I… I… had to make sure you knew that it wasn’t my fault, Father. I’m not a bad wife.”

  “A bad wife?” he echoed. “Who said you were a bad wife?”

  “Y… you did.” She began to wail all over again.

  The diviner drew himself up. He seemed offended. “I said no such thing.”

  Annabeth struggled to breathe. Her sobs left her gasping for air. “Y… yes. Y… you told me that I was disobedient and that’s why my husband didn’t seek out my company. But it isn’t only me!” She dug her fists into her eyes to clear them. “I don’t deserve to be cast out of the kingdom, Father. I don’t want to be left behind on Judgment Day.”

  The diviner kept his tone level to avoid upsetting her further. He chose his words carefully. “You just said it isn’t only you. Explain what you mean by that.”

  Annabeth blinked back the last of her tears and let out a huge sigh. She blew her nose again and regarded the diviner gravely. “I don’t believe the problem is with us, Father. I talked to my sister-wives, and Daniel has showed no husbandly affection to any of us for years now. And then yesterday I asked my newest sister-wife Hannah about her wedding night, and it seems…” she trailed off, unsure of how to phrase a subject so delicate.

  The diviner appeared stunned. He sat perfectly still for several seconds, staring off into space. Finally, he asked, “Are you trying to tell me that my son did not consummate his union with Hannah?”

  Annabeth nodded solemnly. “That is what she told me, Father. She seemed very confused by it too.”

  “Woman, you know it is a grave sin to lie about such things.”

  Annabeth nearly stopped breathing altogether. “Oh, Father, no! I would never lie about this or anything.”

  Father Abraham stared at her in silence. His face wore exactly the same expression as the man in the portrait. “If you aren’t lying then it is plain you are being deluded by the Father of Lies. The devil has tricked you into believing you are not to blame.”

  Annabeth faltered in her conviction. The thought had never occurred to her before. “He has?” she asked limply.

  The diviner rose and paced around the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “There is no other possible explanation. He has hoodwinked not only you but your sister-wives as well.”

  She gaped at him in shock.

  He continued. “You are being seduced by the sin of pride. Satan has whispered in your ear that there is no fault in you, so it must be your husband who is to blame. Women are foolish and easily led astray. If your husband is avoiding all of you, perhaps he has detected some flaw that you are too prideful to admit. His judgment is to be trusted not merely because he is my son but because he is the scion. He will one day speak directly to God as I do now. God himself chose Daniel to succeed me.” He wheeled around and glared at her. “Do you think He would have chosen a man who was fallible and lacking in discernment to lead the Nephilim?”

  “N… no, Father.” She couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. She stared at the floor. “That isn’t possible.”

  “I advise you to examine your heart most carefully, Annabeth. The foe of mankind has made an abode for himself there.”

  Annabeth felt a thrill of horror running through her. Satan in her own heart? How could she trust the evidence of her senses? Was any of it real? The devil could be whispering lies to her even now. She sat transfixed until she felt a firm hand grasp her by the elbow and propel her toward the door. The diviner was speaking again. She heard his voice echoing from a great distance.

  “…the matter of your sister-wives. I will question each one separately.”

  She could feel him shaking her by the shoulders. “Annabeth! Pay attention.”

  “Y… yes, Father.”

  “You will not speak to anyone about this matter ever again. Do you understand me?”

  She nodded mutely as the door slammed in her face. She felt sick with dread. A demon had taken possession of her body. Someone else was peering out from behind her eyes. Hell wasn’t simply some faraway place where the Fallen would go on the Day of Judgment. Hell was as close as the beating of her own heart.

  Chapter 13 – Catal Huyuk

  Catal Huyuk. Cassie thought the very name sounded mysterious and exotic. They were on their way to an honest-to-goddess archaeological dig site, but she couldn’t help feeling slightly disgruntled. Nothing was turning out the way she’d expected. It had all started going sideways that morning. She imagined they would make the cross-country journey from Istanbul by train in somethin
g that looked like the Orient Express. Instead, they took a commercial flight to Konya—a large town in central Turkey that had traffic signals and chain hotels. When their plane landed, she imagined they would be met by a vaguely sinister contact wearing a fez with a tassel. His name would be Ali Ben something. Instead, they got a balding American guy named Fred who picked them up at the airport in a minivan. Fred’s only distinguishing characteristic was that he was so utterly ordinary that he had no distinguishing characteristics. Just about as colorful as an ice cube on a snow bank in Antarctica.

  Not remotely what she expected, Cassie thought dismally, as she sat in the back seat of the van gliding smoothly along well-paved highways. They ought to be bouncing along in an open truck with bad shocks across back country dirt roads. They should all be wearing khaki and safari helmets instead of jeans and T-shirts.

  Erik sat up front with Fred and Griffin was in the back with her. She confided her disillusionment in a whisper to the scrivener, not wanting Erik to hear.

  He smiled sympathetically. “I think you’ve seen one too many films about mummies.”

  She turned away to look out the window. They had to drive forty miles to Catal Huyuk which Fred explained meant “fork mound” in Turkish. Hmmm. Not such an exotic name after all. It was located on the central Anatolian plateau where the terrain was flat, and most of it was planted in wheat fields. It was all so utterly ordinary.

  The minivan slowed to pass through a gate with a barbed wire fence which protected several acres of hillside in the middle of nowhere. There were some guards in uniform, but nobody stopped them or asked them for papers or tried to pass them any suspicious relics wrapped in brown paper like the Maltese Falcon.

  Cassie gave one last hopeful look out the window to see if there were any upper-class Brits in camp chairs writing field notes under canvas canopies while inscrutable houseboys served them tea. Nope. All she could see were a bunch of tourists in cross-trainers standing in a semi-circle around a tour guide.