The chatelaine shook her head. “Nope. I’ve got somebody permanently assigned to trailing Daniel. So far, he’s done nothing but catch up on his reading at the library. He’s been seen in research departments that aren’t remotely connected to the relic hunt. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say he’s dragging his feet about cracking the next clue. It could be a month or more before he’ll be ready to hit the road.”
“Then I suppose our team has the luxury of some lead time for a change,” the old woman observed.
“They do,” Maddie agreed guardedly. “But that still leaves Hunt with free time on his hands. Free time that he’s going to use to track down Hannah.”
“Didn’t you destroy Hunt’s chances of finding her after you emptied the antique shop?”
Maddie sighed ruefully. “I might have been a little too efficient there. It didn’t occur to me til later that if I don’t give him something to chase he’s going to stumble around and maybe accidentally uncover some real information about where our little fugitive is hiding.”
“Good heavens!” Faye exclaimed. “The child is beginning her first year in a public school. Being out in the world for several hours each day, she’s more vulnerable than ever.”
“That’s the reason for my trail of breadcrumbs.”
Faye regarded the chatelaine curiously but said nothing. She drank her tea, waiting for an explanation.
Maddie put down her cup and leaned back on the couch. “I want to plant some false clues that will send Hunt on a wild goose chase and get him out of the way for a while.”
“And just how do you plan to go about it?”
“I’ll start with the antique shop. It’s where he left off his search, so I’m pretty sure that’s where he’ll pick it up again. Maybe this time he’ll find something that he overlooked before.”
Faye paused to consider Maddie’s plan. “You do realize you could permanently stop his search if you were to fake Hannah’s death.”
“I already thought of that.” The chatelaine’s tone was rueful. “The problem is, if he doesn’t have Hannah to track, he’ll have more time to focus on the relic quest. I want him distracted and physically out of the way where he can’t muck up the works either for Hannah or for our field team.”
“I think we should still consider falsifying Hannah’s demise at some point,” the memory guardian demurred.
Maddie pondered the idea as she poured herself a second cup of tea. “Agreed. Once we’ve got the Sage Stone safely in the vault and this whole business is wrapped up, we can arrange Hannah’s swan song. In the meantime...” she trailed off.
Faye raised her cup in a mock toast. “To breadcrumbs. I wish you great success in your endeavors.”
Maddie raised her cup. “To breadcrumbs. A whole loaf of them.”
Chapter 6—Good for What Ales You
Daniel was poring over a book in the public library when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He wheeled about in alarm then relaxed immediately at the sight of Chris’s smiling face.
“Hey there, bookworm,” the librarian said playfully. “You really got lost in whatever you’re reading. You didn’t even hear me get off the elevator.”
Daniel shut the thick volume. “It’s a survey of the Buddhist religion meant for someone like me who has no prior knowledge of the topic.”
The scion felt a twinge of guilt that he wasn’t actively working on the clue to the next relic but he knew he had the luxury of time on his side. Because the golden bull and its riddle were in his possession, the trio of thieves had to wait for him to make the first move. He also knew his father had gotten used to lengthy stints of research before each artifact recovery. Daniel calculated that he had at least two months to squander on other pursuits before the diviner began to nag him for results.
In consequence, the scion had decided to use this peaceful interval to further his education about the strange world of the Fallen. He wanted to know everything about their history, religion, politics, and culture. The fact that his best friend was a research librarian at the main branch of the Chicago Public Library made his pursuit of knowledge all that much easier. Chris knew exactly where to find the information Daniel was seeking.
The two men had fallen into a comfortable pattern. Each morning, Daniel would tell Chris what subject he wanted to study that day and the research librarian would guide him to the right section of the library. Then they would meet for lunch at which Daniel usually badgered Chris with questions prompted by his studies.
All of Daniel’s cares fell away during the hours he spent among the books. He could forget the relic quest. He could even forget the domestic drama at home. His third wife Annabeth was nearing her delivery date. She would soon have another child and an additional reason to lord it over his other wives. Daniel sighed at the thought of the future outrages she was likely to commit. He suppressed the thought and transferred his attention back to Chris who stood leaning over his desk.
The librarian glanced around the empty reading room. “It looks like today’s topic isn’t very popular with scholars. You’ve got the place to yourself. I came to tell you that it’s lunchtime if you can tear yourself away from Buddha for an hour.”
Daniel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Lunchtime? Already?” He checked his watch. “But that means I’ve been reading for—”
“Three solid hours,” the librarian completed his sentence. “You need a break.”
The scion stood up and followed his friend to the elevator.
While they waited for it to arrive, Chris gave Daniel an amused glance. “We should start calling the library the ‘University of Daniel.’”
The scion smiled self-consciously. “I suppose I am being rather intense, but there’s so much knowledge to be found here. I have to make up for lost time.”
The elevator doors opened, and they entered. Chris pressed the button for the lobby. “You’re like a kid in a candy store if the candy was made of alphabet letters. I don’t imagine your father is big on learning.”
“He is when it comes to the scriptures or Biblical languages or the sermons of dead diviners but not much else.”
“That’s probably why he didn’t want you talking to me.” Chris chuckled. “I’m a bad influence.”
“You? Oh, no. You’ve taught me so much about the outside world.”
“Exactly my point,” the librarian countered. “I’ve taught you things your father doesn’t want you to know. I mean, the fact that I work in a library opens the door to all kinds of forbidden knowledge. Oh, the horror!” He raised his hand to his brow in a theatrical gesture.
Daniel looked at him askance. “Is that another cultural reference that I don’t understand?”
“One of oh so many,” Chris murmured at the elevator doors opened.
They crossed the lobby, spun through the revolving doors and joined the crowds of mid-day pedestrians in downtown Chicago.
Daniel had become used to the activity of the city after so many months. The bustle, the noise, the traffic, and pollution. He liked the energy of it all. It bristled with life compared to the compound of the Blessed Nephilim. The silent corridors of his home did their best to mimic the absolute stillness of death.
“I’m going to expand your education in a different direction today,” Chris said mysteriously. “We’re trying a new place for lunch.”
Daniel silently tagged along as the librarian took an unfamiliar street leading west. They paused at a stop light.
“If you got as far as Buddhism this morning, that must mean you’ve just about wrapped up all the big religions,” Chris speculated.
The light turned green.
“Yes, I’ve covered Hinduism, Taoism, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, and the various sects of Christianity. But it doesn’t make any sense.”
“What doesn’t?” Chris paused, looking up at a street sign to get his bearings.
“All those religions essentially believe in one grea
t power that created everything, but they’ve been fighting wars for millennia because they can’t agree on how to worship Him.”
“Ah yes, how best to worship the Great Whatsit.” Chris nodded his head sagely as they continued walking. “By the way, your choice of pronoun is provocative all by itself.”
Daniel peered at his friend, uncomprehending. “It is?”
They paused at another red light.
Chris turned to face him. “Absolutely. All the big religions nowadays use ‘He’ to refer to the Whatsit, but that wasn’t always the case. Lots of older religions think of that power as ‘It’ or even as, gasp, ‘She.’ Funny that the religions favoring ‘He’ always want to stomp on the It-Worshippers and the She-Worshippers.”
Daniel had never considered that the divinity who had created the world could be anything other than a He. The scion pondered the notion for the first time. “I’m aware that some of the pagan religions had female fertility goddesses,” he ventured.
Chris nudged him to move as the light changed. “That’s nothing. You need to check out some of the books on folk religions and neo-pagan philosophy. Most of them believe that the supreme power of the universe is female. Frankly, when I think of a deity who’s in the business of creating life, I have an easier time believing that it’s female. Just makes more sense from a biological standpoint.”
“Do you follow a religion yourself?” Daniel asked, curious for the first time about Chris’s beliefs.
“I’m an agnostic.” Chris’s arm shot out, pointing to the right. “Down this street.” They raced across as the light turned yellow.
“Is that like an atheist?” Daniel hurried to keep up.
“Sort of,” Chris agreed. “An atheist doesn’t believe in anything. An agnostic believes in something but isn’t sure what.”
Daniel frowned in puzzlement. “It must make it hard for you to pray if you don’t know what you’re praying to.”
“Agnostics don’t pray,” Chris countered. “We just shut our eyes and hope for the best.”
The librarian darted under the archway of a high-rise office building. “It’s in here,” he said.
They passed through a revolving door into a darkly-lit restaurant. Dim pendant lights hung over the bar and over the rustic trestle tables set into the opposite wall. Seating consisted of high-backed barstools.
Chris made for the back of the establishment, away from other customers. Over his shoulder, he said, “This place was just written up in Chicago Magazine. It’s supposed to have a fantastic microbrew selection.”
“Microbrew?” Daniel repeated.
“It’s a small-scale brewery that turns out designer beers.” Chris claimed a seat at the farthest table in the back corner. “No lemonade for you today, Danny Boy.”
For some unknown reason, Chris had decided to call him that. Daniel liked having a nickname. He thought it brought the two of them closer. He took the barstool across the table from his friend. “No lemonade?” The scion was mystified by Chris’s insistence on his choice of beverage. “But I always drink lemonade.”
Chris handed him one of the plastic menus that was standing on the table top. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re kind of uptight?”
“Uptight?”
“Tense. It means you’re tense all the time.”
“Oh, that.” Daniel nodded. “I suppose I am.”
“Well, I have just the cure for your malady.” Chris flipped open Daniel’s copy of the menu. One side of the page consisted of nothing but beverages with strange names. He pointed to an item halfway down the list.
Daniel felt shocked. “Ale? You want me to drink some kind of beer?”
“It’s pale ale,” Chris retorted, unmoved by his distress. “The alcohol content is so low that even a teetotaler like you won’t feel it.”
“But my father forbids it. The Blessed Nephilim are not to partake of any strong drink—not coffee or tea and especially not alcohol.”
“Just exactly what do you think will happen if you drink a glass of ale?” the librarian asked.
“It’s Satan’s tool to ensnare sinners. It will surely lead me to hell.”
“Uh huh.” Chris maintained a deadpan expression. “And you know this how?”
“My father said...” Daniel caught himself. He noticed his friend’s arch look and realized how ridiculous he sounded.
“Your father has such a wide experience of the world, he couldn’t possibly be wrong about the effects of ale,” Chris murmured tongue-in-cheek. “Why it’s an absolute orgy in this place, isn’t it?”
Daniel looked sheepishly at the other diners, nearly all of whom had a glass of amber liquid next to their plates. No one was rolling on the floor and frothing at the mouth.
Chris sighed and peered at him earnestly. “Don’t you think you should find out for yourself?”
“That’s exactly what the snake must have told Eve in the Garden Of Eden,” Daniel muttered darkly.
“I don’t know about you, but I’d take the gift of knowledge over dogma any day of the week, no matter what the consequences.” The librarian shot him a mischievous, dazzling smile.
Daniel had to admit that Chris’s light-hearted remark held a grain of truth. Wasn’t the gift of knowledge the very reason why he’d started coming to the library in the first place?
When the waiter appeared, they hurriedly chose from the menu. In addition to pulled pork sandwiches, Daniel ordered a pale ale, and Chris selected something called “stout.”
While they were waiting for their food to arrive, Chris leaned over the table. Lowering his voice, he said, “I don’t mean to rush you, but you’ve been back for almost two months, and you haven’t said anything about the next riddle you have to solve.”
Daniel sighed. “I know. I’ll have to tackle it this week before my father gets impatient.”
“Then let’s get started,” the librarian urged, his eyes twinkling. “Helping you solve that last clue was the highpoint of my year.”
“Very well,” Daniel agreed. He reached into the portfolio he always carried with him. Aside from copious notes about the subjects he’d been studying, it also contained photos of the relic he’d retrieved in Africa. A statue of the head and neck of a golden bull. Its horns were encrusted with diamonds. Sapphires, scattered at random, decorated the beast’s neck. Minoan glyphs were inscribed on its back.
He handed the photos to Chris who devoured them with his eyes. “Holy carats, Batman! How big is this thing?”
“Several inches tall.”
“If that’s solid gold and those are real diamonds and sapphires, then this is worth...” Chris trailed off speechless.
“A fortune,” Daniel concluded. “You aren’t even considering the antiquity of the piece. It’s at least three thousand years old.”
“Three thousand—”
At that moment their order arrived. Chris handed the photos back to Daniel and said to the waiter, “Just a minute.” He took the glass of stout and gulped it down without pausing to draw breath. “Bring me another one.”
The waiter nodded, grinning, and departed with the empty glass.
Daniel observed his friend’s reaction with bafflement.
“How can you sit there looking so matter-of-fact?” Chris challenged. “Most people live an entire lifetime without laying eyes on something as spectacular as this.”
Daniel shrugged. “I suppose I’ve been on this quest for so long that it all seems ordinary to me now.”
“So what’s the riddle?” the librarian prompted, picking up his sandwich.
Daniel took a few bites of his own before turning to his notes. “I had a little trouble with the translation, but I think this is what it says: ‘The stones behind, on an island tower she alights to drink, biding til her kindred fill the jaws of the lion.’”
The waiter returned with Chris’s second glass of stout. Before taking a sip, the librarian frowned at Daniel’s s
till-full glass of ale. “Will you at least try it?”
The scion hesitantly complied. He barely moistened his lips at first. “Hmmm.” He tried a larger sip the second time. He could feel a warm sensation spreading through his head and chest. “The taste is a little bitter,” he observed.
“Anything would be bitter compared to lemonade,” Chris retorted, finishing half his sandwich. “Try another sip.”
Daniel took a large gulp of the light golden liquid and then waited a few moments to observe the effects.
“Well, your head didn’t burst into flames,” the librarian commented acerbically.
“I feel...” Daniel paused, grasping for the right word. He stared at Chris is blank surprise. “I feel calmer.”
“Uh huh,” his friend agreed. “That’s the point. It’s supposed to mellow you out. So long as you don’t go overboard, it’s a nice feeling, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” Daniel eyed the glass of ale with newfound respect. He then turned his attention to the rest of his meal.
By now, Chris had finished and pushed his plate to the side. He returned to pondering the riddle. “On an island tower she alights to drink,” he murmured half to himself. “I assume that’s a reference to the dove from the last riddle?”
Daniel nodded, his mouth full of food. Swallowing, he said, “Yes, I agree. The dove continues to fly until she arrives at a tower on an island.”
“What about ‘the stones behind’?”
The scion wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked furtively around to see if anybody was listening to their conversation. Satisfied, he leaned forward and spoke in a soft tone. “There were pyramids in Sudan right around the spot where we located the last artifact. I think the riddle is directing us to turn our backs on the stone pyramids and continue eastward on the same course.”
“So that would mean the same latitude traveling east from the place you found the bull?”
“Yes.” Daniel took a few more sips of ale. “I haven’t studied the geography of the region, so I’m not sure what the terrain east of Napata is like.”
Arkana Archaeology Mystery Box Set 2 Page 4