The Arkana Mysteries Boxed Set

by N. S. Wikarski

  “Is that an underground river?” she asked in surprise.

  “Yes, it is,” Griffin confirmed. “This way.”

  He skirted the pool of water to the right until he came to a rock ledge that hung directly behind the curtain of water.

  Cassie couldn’t believe her eyes when he took out his vault keycard and swiped it through a card reader mounted on the wall. There was a door behind the waterfall, and it slid open.

  “Is this it?” she asked, impressed.

  Griffin nodded. “Follow me.”

  “Best trove ever!” Cassie exclaimed.

  They walked down a long tunnel through the rocky hillside until they came to a second door. This one, too, had a card reader. Griffin repeated the process. The door slid open, and they stepped into a modern, well-lit room with racks of archaeological finds and three people cataloging artifacts.

  Griffin seemed to know the trove team and introduced them to Cassie.

  Several minutes later, Grace entered. “You beat me here.”

  “That’s because I was driving instead of Griffin,” Cassie retorted.

  “Why don’t we go into my office to talk?” The trove keeper indicated a door to the left of the main room, and they filed in after her.

  The office was cluttered with books and native artifacts—mainly shards of pottery and several clay pipes with faces carved into the bowls. Aside from Grace’s desk and chair, the only other seating was a bench along one wall.

  “I don’t get many visitors. I’d ask you to make yourselves comfortable, but I know that’s impossible. Please, just sit down.”

  All three of them settled themselves. Grace folded her hands on the desk. “Now, what can I help you with?”

  Griffin and Cassie took turns filling her in on the relic quest and the lost sentinel.

  “So, you’re wondering if the Haudenosaunee have any legends about a Basque fisherman coming to our lands and leaving some kind of artifact here?”

  As she asked the question, Cassie felt a strange fluttery sensation in the pit of her stomach. “It’s here. I know it. I’ve gotten the feeling ever since we walked into the trove.”

  “You mean the relic is hidden among the People of the Longhouse?” Griffin asked.

  “No, I mean it’s here in this building.”

  “What!” the scrivener exclaimed. “How can you be sure?”

  “I can’t be. I just know it, that’s all.” Cassie turned her attention to Grace. “Do you have any idea where it could be?”

  The trove keeper gave her a mysterious smile. “I guess you’re the seer with grey eyes, after all. I just had to make sure.”

  “So, you do know.” Cassie pounced. “If it’s in the trove, how did it get here?”

  “About a hundred and fifty years ago a white man from across the sea came to talk to the jigonsaseh.”

  “You mean the clan mother?” Cassie asked.

  “Right,” Grace assented. “He said he was from a place called ‘Ar-Kay-Nah.’”

  “Arkana,” Griffin said, his interest piqued. “He must have come from the vault when it was still based in England.”

  Grace continued. “He told the jigonsaseh that he would help find a place to hide the things we kept sacred—especially the things that related to the old ways and to honoring the mothers of the tribe. He said if we didn’t hide them someplace safe, that everything would disappear and be forgotten. The jigonsaseh and the women’s council agreed, and that’s when the Haudenosaunee trove was born. We already knew about the cave here and thought it would be a perfect spot to conceal artifacts.” Grace looked briefly around the room. “Of course, we’ve made a few improvements over the years. One of the items that was brought to the trove had a very strange history. It was associated with a white fisherman who came to live among the Onondaga tribe.”

  Grace stood up. “I’ll be right back.” She left the room only to return a few minutes later bearing a metal box. She held it out to Cassie. “This belongs to you now.”

  Cassie glanced at Griffin. “Who knew? Right on our own doorstep.” She took the box and hesitantly removed the lid. “Oh, my goddess!” she exclaimed. “Will you get a load of that!”

  Griffin leaned over to peek inside. “Amazing.” He removed the object. I’d say from a purely monetary perspective that this artifact is the most valuable we’ve seen. Worth quite a bit more than the golden bee.”

  “It’s a little bit bigger, too,” Cassie observed. “And there doesn’t appear to be as much writing as usual.”

  “That could mean the riddle is either ridiculously simple or well-nigh impossible to decipher,” Griffin replied.

  “Which option do you think I’m banking on?” Cassie asked archly.

  She took the artifact out of Griffin’s hands, not thinking about the possible risk.

  “Cassie, wait!” Griffin said, but his warning came too late.

  She was moving quickly through time. Images streamed through her consciousness. The sensation was much like the kurgan dagger but without the violent episodes it contained. First, she was looking across time at the old woman in the cave on Anboto. Then she was standing on the seashore observing a man carrying a box. Another scene in which he was speaking to a band of native warriors in a forest. Then the face of an ancient Haudenosaunee woman. Then a much younger woman. A long house. A little girl. In rapid succession, a series of faces, the style of clothing changing. The passage of time. The final face in the sequence was extremely familiar. Then she was back.

  She blinked and stared fixedly at Grace. “You’re her. You’re the one.”

  Without needing any explanation, Grace replied, “Yup, I’m the guy.”

  Griffin transferred his attention from one speaker to the other. “Please do explain yourselves.”

  Without taking her eyes away from Grace, Cassie said to Griffin, “She’s the sentinel. Probably the great-great-great-great-granddaughter of the Basque who left Spain.”

  “Oh, I say,” the scrivener remarked. Turning to Cassie, he asked, “You saw that in your vision?”

  “It wasn’t so much a vision as sight bytes.” She focused on Grace again. “I saw the lost sentinel when he first came here from the Old World. I got the impression he was adopted by the tribe. He settled down and started a new family. He must have trained somebody to be the sentinel after him, and that knowledge got passed down in each generation to the next sentinel. I saw a lot of faces from right after his time all the way down to now. All the way down to Grace.”

  The trove keeper nodded approvingly. “That’s how I was told it all happened. I have to say, Griffin, our new pythia is pretty good. It’s not often that we get a chance to validate an artifact by having somebody who can confirm her findings from personal experience. The story goes that the people who left these relics posted a sentinel at each place,” Grace explained. “They promised to look after the treasure to see that it wasn’t disturbed until the right person came along to claim it. A seer with grey eyes.”

  “We didn’t run across any sentinels on Crete or in Turkey,” Cassie objected.

  “In all probability, they were killed at some point,” Griffin said quietly. “Both those areas lie directly in the path of overlord destruction. We were very fortunate that the Basque sentinel lived in a much more remote area. Iker and his relatives may, in fact, be the only sentinels who are still in place.”

  “That’s grim,” the pythia observed. She placed the artifact back into its box. “We’re gonna have to make a fake of this artifact pronto.”

  “Yes, I agree,” said Griffin. “Our best chance of duplicating this relic lies with my team back at the vault. We need to return to Chicago immediately. While we’re there, we can give Faye and Maddie an update.”

  “I’ll call Erik and tell him to head back home,” Cassie offered. Transferring her attention to the trove keeper, she asked, “So, Grace. Ever been to Spain? I have a hunch there’s somebody there who’
d really like to meet you.”

  Chapter 40 – Double Vision

  Cassie sighed as she heaved her suitcase off of the baggage carousel in the Bilbao airport. “I don’t care how many trans-Atlantic miles I’ve logged by now. I still can’t sleep on airplanes.”

  The trio had spent the previous week waiting anxiously for a copy of the relic to be fabricated at the vault. In the meantime, Maddie had kept close tabs on the whereabouts of the Nephilim operatives. No one was pleased to hear that they were preparing to travel to Spain. As soon as the artifact was ready, the Arkana team caught the first flight to Bilbao hoping to keep a few steps ahead of their adversaries.

  Erik checked his watch. “It’s way too late to drive to the mountain today. The sun will be setting in about an hour.”

  Griffin slung his overnight bag across his shoulder and followed his team

  mates out of the terminal. “According to Maddie’s last information, Daniel and Hunt aren’t even in the country yet. It’s highly unlikely that once they arrive, they’ll go straight to Anboto. We still have a few days’ grace.”

  “Since we can’t do anything useful right now except wait for the sun to come up, I vote for not thinking about the relic quest at all tonight,” Cassie said. “Let’s pick up our rental car and go find some ‘pinks toes’ before we head to the hotel in Durango.”

  Griffin stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her disapprovingly. “After all the time we’ve spent in Basque country, you should know how to pronounce that word by now.”

  The pythia laughed—a mischievous gleam in her eye. “I do know how to pronounce it. I just enjoy seeing your face get all pinched-looking when you correct me.” She eyed him closely. “I actually think your nose gets longer when you start lecturing.”

  The scrivener covered his nose in alarm. “It does?”

  She laughed again. “No, I’m just messing with you. Besides, that ratty beard of yours totally draws attention away from your nose. C’mon. Let’s go find some world class pintxos.” This time she pronounced it correctly.

  “I’ve heard the area around the Plaza Nuevo has the best selection,” Griffin murmured, self-consciously touching the tip of his nose.

  ***

  “Like I told you a dozen times before, boy, I ain’t gonna bunk at no freaky compound!”

  “Nobody is asking you to, Mr. Hunt!” The man is insufferable, Daniel thought to himself. After his idyllic solitude on Malta, he found that renewed contact with his erstwhile bodyguard was even less tolerable than before. They had met in the Bilbao airport after coordinating the arrival of their flights, and Hunt had taken it into his head to argue about accommodations.

  “As it happens, I won’t be staying at a Nephilim compound either,” Daniel retorted.

  Hunt paused to gape at him. “The dickens you say.”

  Daniel inferred that the expression implied disbelief. “The nearest compound is an inconvenient distance from here. I’ve made arrangements for one of the brothers to meet us in Bilbao. We will be staying at a hotel.”

  If Daniel’s earlier announcement had intrigued Hunt, this last statement left him dumbfounded. When he could finally speak again, all he said was, “Well, I’ll be...”

  The scion decided to let him be whatever it was he was in the process of becoming. He walked out of the terminal and headed directly for a cab stand. A befuddled Hunt trailed in his wake.

  “Will you look at this,” the mercenary said. “I don’t know what’s come over you, boy, but you’re actin’ like you know what you’re doin’ for a change.”

  Daniel glanced at him coldly but made no remark before sliding into the cab.

  Hunt climbed in beside him. Daniel gave the hotel name to the driver. The mercenary twisted his head and contemplated Daniel’s profile.

  “Is something wrong, Mr. Hunt?” the scion finally asked impatiently.

  “Naw, I just think I’m seein’ things is all. I swear you’re startin’ to sound like your daddy.”

  Daniel faced him and flared, “Don’t ever say such a thing to me! I am nothing like him!”

  Instead of recoiling, Hunt found the response amusing. He laughed out loud and slapped his knee. “Hooey, boy, I tell you what! You’re somethin’ else.”

  Fortunately, the cab ride was brief. Daniel paid the fare while a doorman removed the luggage from the trunk.

  As they entered the hotel, Daniel checked his watch. “We have a few hours before Brother Sergio arrives. He’s to meet us in the lobby.”

  “OK, then. Time enough to get a proper drink. I ain’t had nothin’ to wet my whistle all day but them tiny hooch bottles on the plane.”

  Since Daniel didn’t want Hunt wandering the streets inebriated, he said, “Fine, I’ll go with you. Right after we check in.”

  Hunt gawked at him in a state of wonderment. “You’re goin’ with me for a drink? Now I seen everything!”

  ***

  Half an hour later, the two men sauntered out of the hotel in search of a bar which Daniel hoped would serve food. He hadn’t eaten all day. The concierge recommended the area surrounding the Plaza Nuevo which was walking distance from the hotel.

  The scion led the way until they arrived at a large open square lined with bars and cafes.

  “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Hunt said with satisfaction. He made directly for the first brightly-lit establishment.

  Daniel was taken aback by the array of food which confronted them. None of it looked familiar. He chose something that appeared to be an egg concoction skewered onto a piece of bread. Hunt immediately ordered a double shot of whiskey. He downed it in a few gulps and then ordered another. Although Daniel urged him to take some food, he opted to drink on an empty stomach. Hunt next decided to try one of the local specialties—a mixture of red wine and cola served in a large tumbler over ice. The bartender said it was called kalimotxo. Instead of ordering a glass, Hunt ordered a pitcher along with a glass filled with ice. Daniel encouraged Hunt to try the drink since he thought it might constitute an improvement over whiskey. The caffeine in the cola was bound to counteract some of the effects of the alcohol.

  The scion led his bodyguard outside to one of the tables which bordered the square rather than remain in the noisy, crowded interior of the bar. He fastidiously consumed his food while Hunt looked on in amusement.

  “Time was you told me you’d never eat nothin’ outside of one of your blessed compounds,” the mercenary observed.

  Daniel refused to rise to the bait. “I’ve spent more time in the world now. Sometimes a change of attitude is required.”

  “You got that right,” Hunt nodded. He squinted at his companion. “Seems to me you been havin’ all kinds of attitude adjustments lately.”

  “What are you talking about?” Daniel finished the last of his dish. It hardly comprised a meal. He concluded that Spanish people must have very small appetites.

  A crafty look crossed Hunt’s face. “I mean you been up to mischief your daddy wouldn’t approve of.”

  “There are any number of things my father doesn’t approve of. He keeps a very long list,” Daniel replied noncommittally.

  “Yeah, but this particular bit of mischief would make him blow a gasket if he knew about it. I’m talkin’ about you helpin’ little Miss Hannah to give him the slip.”

  If Hunt had planned on getting a rise out of Daniel, he failed. Though the scion blanched inwardly, he’d become quite adept at masking his emotions. The recent practice of deceiving both his father and his wife Annabeth stood him in good stead now.

  Daniel merely raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You think I had something to do with that?” he asked pointedly.

  For a second, Hunt seemed confused and taken aback. “Well, uh, yeah.”

  “Where’s your proof?” the scion asked flatly.

  Hunt rallied. “I’ll tell you where my proof is, boy. She’s sittin’ behind a desk at the Home for Unwed Mothers in Ch
icago, that’s where. If I was to drag you over to see Miz Wilma Hawkins, she’d recognize you as the low-life who dropped our little gal on her doorstep. What you got to say to that?”

  Daniel drummed his fingers impatiently on the table. “I can’t imagine why you would want to fabricate such an absurd tale much less enlist an accomplice to corroborate it. Of what possible benefit can it be to you?”

  Hunt paused, trying to fathom Daniel’s reasoning. “Huh?”

  “If you were to carry this wild story to my father and if he, by some miracle, chose to believe you, what do you think would become of your livelihood?”

  Hunt opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for air.

  “He would banish me from the Nephilim, and that would mean an end to the search for the relics. You and I both know he has no one else competent enough to find them. Where would that leave you, do you think?”

  Hunt didn’t answer the question. He merely stared at Daniel unblinkingly for several seconds before saying, “So that’s how it is. You’re callin’ my bluff.” His face showed a mixture of puzzlement and exasperation. “I gotta say, boy. I never figured you to grow a pair so late in the game.”

  Daniel gazed off into the distance trying to demonstrate how little Hunt’s accusations mattered to him. He glanced idly toward the far side of the plaza. What he saw there actually did make him turn pale.

  “God in heaven!” he exclaimed.

  “So, you’re gonna come clean after all, are you?”

  Daniel ignored the comment. At the opposite end of the square, he saw a trio of people walking together. A blond man, a brown-haired man, and a much shorter woman. He strained to see them clearly, but they were walking under the portico of a building that lined the entire block. They appeared and disappeared between the columns and arches.

  Daniel sprang up out of his seat. “Did you see them?” he asked urgently, his eyes fixed on the three people.

  Hunt stood and grabbed him by the elbow, swinging him around. “What are you playin’ at?”