The flower was unmistakably identical to the carvings they’d encountered several times before in their quest. It was inscribed on a stone whose irregular shape and sharp edges indicated that it had been hacked away from a much larger piece of rock. The fragment that remained was slightly bigger than Dee’s hand.
“But where did it come from?” Griffin asked.
The trove keeper shrugged. “That’s just the problem. I don’t know. The collector mentioned that it had come from one of the Indus Valley sites, but he wasn’t sure which. I was planning to send it on to the IVC trove keeper for identification, but since you were already in the country, I contacted you first.”
“So, you’ve no idea where the Minoans left this.” Griffin appeared nonplussed.
A cloud of gloom settled over the little party.
Dee seemed unaffected by the dampened spirits of the trio. “Why the glum faces?” She stared pointedly at Cassie. “You can read the artifact, can’t you?”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot,” the pythia said sheepishly.
Her teammates traded concerned looks.
“Cassie, do you think that’s wise?” Griffin objected. “You don’t know what sort of history this object has picked up since the Minoans carved it.”
“Remember what happened in Turkey?” Erik hinted darkly.
“Guys, it’ll be alright. I already have a hunch that there’s no bad juju attached to it.” She held her hand out toward Dee. “Lay it on me,” she said simply.
The trove keeper complied.
The rock vanished from her hands. She was standing on a hill next to an abandoned city. It looked strangely familiar, like Mohenjo-Daro, only this wasn’t Mohenjo-Daro. She could tell that the surrounding landscape was different—mainly scrubby green bushes and scorched grass just beyond the city walls. As she gazed farther in the distance, she saw what looked like snow on the open plain encircling the town. It didn’t feel cold enough for snow. In fact, it felt downright sweltering. A strong wind was blowing in her direction. When the breeze hit her face, she could taste salt clinging to her lips. So, it wasn’t snow out there on the flats. It was salt. An entire desert of salt? She knew she wasn’t in Utah.
She turned away from the horizon to study the building to her right. All she could see was a featureless partition wall with an archway allowing access to the interior. Cassie felt an unaccountable urge to go inside. She stepped into a dim corridor only faintly illuminated by the sun outdoors. Wandering through a maze of small rooms and dead-end corridors, she became more disoriented the farther she traveled from the entrance. After stumbling along in near-total darkness, she turned a corner and saw a glow emanating from a doorway on her left.
Cassie followed the light and found herself inside a circular chamber topped by a flat roof made of wooden planks. She flashed back to the stupa-capped citadel at Mohenjo-Daro. Since all the IVC cities followed the same design, this must be a citadel tower too. As her eyes adjusted to the dim torchlight, she understood why she’d been drawn here. The Minoans stood clustered together watching their carver sculpt the lily emblem onto a stone embedded in the ground. It was one of a series of large rocks that had been laid end-to-end in a line that bisected the dirt floor of the circular room. Cassie noted that the sculptor had chosen to carve the lily on the middle stone in the line. At that moment, her eyes met those of the Minoan priestess. The old woman smiled gently at her and nodded.
The pythia blinked several times as she came out of her trance. The others were watching her intently, waiting to learn what she had discovered.
“First the good news,” she said. “I think I found the tower in the riddle.”
Griffin and Erik both relaxed visibly.
“Brilliant!” Griffin exclaimed. “A destination at last!”
Cassie continued. “The bad news is that it wasn’t an island tower like the riddle said. The town was out in the middle of nowhere, and I couldn’t see any landmarks. I don’t know where the heck I was.”
“Just describe what you saw,” Dee urged. “Maybe I’ll recognize the spot.”
Cassie sighed and dredged her memory for any relevant facts. “Well, for starters I know it was an IVC town because it reminded me of Mohenjo-Daro. I know it wasn’t Mohenjo-Daro though. Completely different landscape. I saw the Minoans. They were carving the lily onto a stone set into the floor of a tower. I’m guessing that it was an observatory—a circular room, not very high. The roof was less than seven feet above the ground.”
“The observatory had a roof?” Griffin asked in surprise.
“A flat roof made of planks of wood and there was a single hole drilled close to one edge. The design reminded me of a manhole cover, but I actually don’t know what the IVC people used it for.”
“Nor do I,” Griffin murmured, his mind clearly turning over possibilities.
“But the strangest thing I saw was outside of the city. At first, I thought I could see snow on the ground.”
“Snow!” her teammates exclaimed.
“Yeah. Freaky, right? The ground was covered with patches of white powder. But then I realized it was salt. I was looking at some kind of salt desert.”
“Salt?” Dee snapped to attention. “You said you saw a salt desert?”
Cassie nodded uncertainly.
The trove keeper leaped up and dashed to the computer on her desk. She started typing furiously. After a few seconds, she paused, waiting for search results. “Hah!” she exclaimed. “Just as I thought.” She beckoned the trio excitedly. “Everybody, come over and take a look at this.”
They clustered around her monitor. Dee tapped the screen for emphasis. “Cassie, is this what you saw?”
“That’s it!” The pythia felt elated. “That’s it exactly.”
Erik read the photo caption. “Great Rann Of Kutch.”
“It’s a salt marsh in the Thar Desert in Gujarat,” Dee said.
“Isn’t Gujarat near where the sunken city was found?” Cassie asked.
“Yes, the Gulf of Khambhat is right off the coast of Gujarat,” Griffin agreed. “Northwest corner of India. As it happens, the spot is very close to Karachi which we just left this morning. I don’t see how that helps us though. The riddle specifically mentioned an island tower. Cassie may have located the tower in question, but it’s hardly built on an island.”
“Oh, but it is,” Dee replied mysteriously. She looked like the proverbial cat who’d swallowed the canary. The trove keeper swiveled her chair around to face the Arkana team. “The Great Rann of Kutch is a salt desert only part of the year. When the monsoon rains fall, it floods with water—as much as five feet deep in places. And sitting right in the middle of that flooded salt desert is an island called Khadir Bet. Anybody want to guess what’s on the island?”
“I’ll go out on a limb and say it’s an IVC city,” Erik ventured.
“And the gentleman wins a kewpie doll.” Dee’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “This island city happens to be the largest IVC site this side of the Pakistani border. It was first excavated in 1989. A marvel of water conservation engineering. It was abandoned in 1450 BCE, long before your Minoan friends arrived. Based on Cassie’s vision, it would seem they carved their lily on a stone in the floor of the observatory at Dholavira.”
“Dholavira,” Cassie echoed. “That’s the name of the place I saw?”
“Yes, Dholavira. That’s where you’ll find your island tower.”
Instead of looking happy, Griffin crossed his arms and frowned at the computer monitor. “But that makes no sense.”
“What doesn’t?” Erik challenged.
The scrivener rubbed his forehead. “Why would the Minoans go to all the trouble of giving us a line of latitude to follow? The riddle clearly stated that the dove continued to fly eastward along the same course until she alighted on her island tower.” He focused on Dee. “What is the latitude of Dholavira?”
She typed in the search criteria. “23.886
1 degrees. Right on the Tropic of Cancer, in fact. That would probably explain the prominent observatory.”
“Wait a minute,” Cassie interrupted. “Wasn’t Nabta Playa on the Tropic of Cancer?” She rounded on her teammates. “What if we miscalculated the dove’s position in Africa?”
“I beg your pardon.” Griffin sounded put out. “We’ve already established that the dove led us to Nabta Playa and from there to Napata.”
“Sure, she led us to Nabta Playa,” Cassie countered. “But where in the riddle does it say she flew on with us to Napata?”
“But...but she must have done,” Griffin protested.
“Hold on,” Erik weighed in. “Remember exactly what the riddle said. Once we got to Nabta Playa, the helmsman was the one who pointed us to Napata. The dove had nothing to do with that part of the clue.”
“Oh, dear.” Griffin blanched as the implication struck him. “I’ve been very stupid.”
“Twice in fact.” The paladin grinned. “That’s the second time you got the latitude wrong.”
“Yes, I’m painfully aware of that fact now.”
Dee looked from one face to the next, trying to understand the conversation. “What on earth are you all talking about?”
“It would seem I’ve misinterpreted our destination,” Griffin admitted. “I assumed our starting point in Africa was the ancient city of Napata. It lies at a latitude of nineteen degrees north. Traveling eastward along that line would have put us in the vicinity of Mumbai.” He cleared his throat. “However, as my colleagues have pointed out, the riddle wasn’t specific as to where the dove was stationed while we continued our trek southward. If we are to assume she began her eastward journey from Nabta Playa, then she would have flown along the Tropic of Cancer all the way from Africa to India.”
“That would have led you straight to Dholavira,” Dee said.
“So it would appear.” Griffin sighed.
Cassie patted him on the back. “Cheer up. We might still have hit a snag even if we went there first. We wouldn’t have known about the flooding. It sure didn’t look like an island tower to me, and I was standing right on the spot, psychically anyway.”
The scrivener gave her a grateful smile.
“Hey, all’s well that ends well,” Erik said consolingly. He focused his attention on Dee. “So how do we get to Dholavira from here?”
The trove keeper typed another search string. “You can catch a flight from Cochin Airport to Mumbai and from there to Bhuj. That would be the closest city to the Rann Of Kutch.”
Dee drew up a map of their destination on her computer. She studied the mileage. “Of course, you’ll need to rent a car. It’s one hundred and fifty miles from Bhuj to Dholavira.”
“I sure hope there’s a place to stay once we get there,” Cassie commented. “It sounds like quite a trek.”
“Well...” Dee hesitated. “There is guest housing nearby, but it isn’t very good. You’re better off staying overnight in Bhuj. It’s going to take you all day to get that far anyway. You can tackle Dholavira as a day trip the following morning.” The trove keeper drummed her fingers on her desk, thinking. “I suppose I should contact someone from the IVC trove to handle the clean-up after you leave.”
All three of them stared at her.
“We don’t usually trash a dig site when we search it,” Erik said defensively.
Dee gave a short laugh. “Are any of you card-carrying members of the Mason’s Union?”
“You mean like Free Masons?” The paladin squinted at her.
Instead of replying, Dee’s gaze travelled to the lily stone which Cassie had left lying on the table in the alcove.
“Oh, I see!” Griffin exclaimed. “Someone needs to fasten the lily stone fragment back in place once we pinpoint its original location. We must leave our clue intact for the Nephilim to find.”
“As I said, I’ll find somebody to follow you out there and make sure the artifact is set back where it belongs.”
“Good catch,” Erik admitted. “None of us thought of that.”
“In fact, if it wasn’t for you we’d still be spinning our wheels in the sand at Mohenjo-Daro,” Cassie observed.
“Oh, stop.” Dee chuckled. “You’ll turn my head.”
“All joking aside,” Griffin said, “we are indebted to your quick thinking. First, in recognizing the significance of the Minoan lily, then in pointing us to Dholavira and, finally, in reminding us to put the artifact back.”
Dee gave them a playful smile. “Tell you what. You can take me out to dinner the next time I’m in the States as a way of saying thank you.”
“Absolutely!” Cassie replied.
The others nodded in unison.
The trove keeper wrinkled her brow briefly as a new thought struck her. “Just not Indian food, OK? Let’s try something exotic instead.”
Chapter 22—Sexual Disorientation
Daniel waited in the library corridor next to the Rare Book Exhibit, anxious for Chris to arrive. Ever since he had begun to work on the clue to the next artifact’s location, Daniel worried about discussing the topic with Chris in a place where other library patrons could eavesdrop. His friend had suggested that the two of them meet every day at 3 o’clock in what had become their private upstairs conference room.
The scion scanned the silent corridor, clutching his laptop and portfolio nervously. He always feared that a security guard might decide to wander up here one day and catch him. It would be hard to explain what he was doing lurking outside the room that housed the library’s most valuable collection of antique volumes. He gave an involuntary sigh of relief when the elevator doors opened, and Chris appeared.
“Sorry. I got held up at the reference desk,” he said, unlocking the exhibit door.
When Daniel entered the room, his gaze travelled immediately to the illuminated manuscripts housed in glass cases that lined the walls. He was always struck by their beauty—the word of God written in jeweled ink on parchment. Even if one didn’t understand Latin, the volumes were an exquisite sight purely as works of art.
Chris interrupted his thoughts. “Any luck today?”
Daniel shook his head and took a seat next to him on the circular bench in the middle of the exhibit. “I’m afraid not, and my father’s temper will soon be growing short at my lack of results.”
The scion ran his fingers distractedly through his hair. “I don’t know where else to look. I’ve studied every seacoast town in a straight line eastward from Napata all the way across the Arabian Peninsula, and I can’t find any reference to an island tower.”
Chris gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “We’ll figure this out together. We did it before. We can do it again.”
“I had fewer distractions last time,” Daniel demurred.
His friend gave him a quizzical look. “What are you talking about?”
Daniel rubbed his tired eyes. “My third wife recently gave birth to a son.”
Chris’s face froze for a moment, but he recovered and gave a smile. “Congratulations. You never talk about your family. You must be proud.”
“My father is proud of my accomplishment.” Daniel accented the last word. “I fear the new baby will only bring more problems.”
Chris took Daniel’s computer and set it on the floor. He turned to face the scion. “I think we need to talk about your family problems more than the relic hunt. You’re in no shape to discuss artifacts today. What is going on with you?”
The scion looked up at the skylight. “Where to begin? I think I’ve already mentioned that the Nephilim brotherhood practices polygamy. A marital state which I’ve since learned is illegal among the Fallen.”
The librarian gave a small chuckle. “I can’t picture you married to one woman much less ‘women’ plural.”
“Nor can I,” Daniel agreed. “I never wished to marry at all. I was content with my studies, but in order to build my heavenly kingdom my religion requ
ires me to take many wives.”
Chris wrinkled his forehead. “Your heavenly kingdom?”
“The Nephilim believe that when we leave this life, each man among us will receive a share in our Father’s celestial kingdom. The portion allotted to us depends on how many wives and children we have.”
“Oh boy,” Chris murmured under his breath. “That must be a nightmare.”
“For me, yes,” Daniel replied earnestly. “I complied with the rules of my faith. As my father assigned me each wife—"
Chris cut him off. “Whoa, back up. Your father did what now?”
“The diviner chose my brides for me since I expressed no preference myself. There were three of them. Each wife bore a single child—a daughter.”
“If you managed to pull that off you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din,” Chris commented.
“I don’t understand.” Daniel’s tone was perplexed.
“Never mind, go on.”
“My father became concerned since I had no male offspring. That problem was solved when Annabeth gave birth to a son.”
“Annabeth is one of your wives?” Chris asked.
“Yes, she is now my principal wife.”
“And that means what exactly?”
“In our faith, the wife who has produced the most offspring, especially if they are male, has dominion over the other wives. Such a woman becomes a man’s principal wife.”
“So, no competition there.” Chris chuckled.
“Ordinarily, the arrangement isn’t a problem. Most sister-wives live amicably with one another, but Annabeth has been overbearing toward the others. I believe she wishes to solidify her position by having another child immediately. That’s why she’s been pressuring me to have relations with her again.”
“It doesn’t sound to me as if you’re thrilled with that plan,” Chris observed.
“We already have enough problems with the children we have,” Daniel protested. “Annabeth has put our daughter aside.”
“What do you mean by ‘put aside’?” Chris asked cautiously.
“Annabeth has sent our little girl to live with my other wives and their daughters. Her excuse is that she needs to devote all her attention to the baby. I believe the real reason is that she dotes on the boy and has no use for a daughter.”
Arkana Archaeology Mystery Box Set 2 Page 13