His former teammates stared at him vacantly.
“Trust me on this. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the scenario would have played out exactly the way you thought. Kailash is an anomaly because it’s a pilgrimage site. Ordinarily, you don’t meet nice people on artifact retrievals—mostly it’s gangs of thieves who want a pricey relic and don’t mind slitting a few throats to get it. If you’d been ambushed any place but Darchen, the night would have ended bloody for both of you.”
The chatelaine nodded in agreement. “You should listen to him. Over the years, I’ve had teams who didn’t make it back from field missions because they couldn’t react fast enough in a crisis. Better safe than sorry.”
“Consider it a test run,” Erik suggested. “So, you beat up a defenseless passerby. That was good practice for beating up a thief next time.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” the pythia said half-heartedly. “Has anybody inspected the artifact that’s in the shrine now?”
Erik shook his head. “Nobody suspects a switch was made. The fake is safe, and generations of pilgrims will believe it’s the real deal.” He shrugged. “Of course, the guy who spread the word about the theft got kicked out of town. Everybody is saying he was either drunk or lying and nobody is admitting to having helped him kidnap two Western tourists who mysteriously disappeared that same night. Those facts got buried pretty fast. I think you two are safe from any blowback about attacking a pilgrim.”
Faye diplomatically changed the subject and ended their embarrassment. “I’m sure Cassie and Griffin would like us to turn our attention to that intriguing object on the table, and I don’t mean my silver tea service. I confess I’m quite curious to know a bit more about our latest acquisition.”
Chapter 53—A Hard River to Find
Five pairs of eyes converged simultaneously on the relic which had been forgotten during the preceding conversation. It was a remarkable sight. The artifact stood nearly a foot high—a golden serpent rising on three coils from its base. With bared fangs, it seemed poised to strike. Though the gold itself would have made the statue valuable, the gems it contained made it priceless. The serpent’s eye sockets were set with two large emeralds. A third rested on its tongue, visible between the snake’s gaping jaws. Three more emeralds were spaced along the length of its body. The middle of the second coil sported a ruby twice as big as any of the green stones. The glyphs of the newest riddle were inscribed in the golden spaces between the gems.
Faye focused her attention on the jewels. “Maddie, I’m sure your fingers shook as you wrote the check to cover the cost of those.”
“You better believe it.” The chatelaine gave a wry laugh. “I almost had a coronary when I found out we needed two replicas. But I managed to save a little money by ordering gold plating and paste gems for the second copy.”
“You mean the one we put back in the shrine was a shoddy knock-off?” Cassie registered surprise.
Maddie shrugged. “Only Metcalf’s copy stands any risk of being authenticated. It had to seem genuine. Nobody’s going to inspect the copy in the shrine. Besides, it’s not their relic anyway. The Minoans left it there for us to find.”
“Speaking of which,” Cassie turned to Griffin. “You never did tell me why the Hindu pilgrims thought it was a gift from Shiva. Back in the cave, I remember you said something about the snake being part of Shiva’s iconography?”
“Quite so,” the scrivener agreed. “Shiva is often portrayed with a cobra looped around his neck. Not merely looped, but looped three times as our Minoan relic is. The three coils represent the past, present, and future. The serpent around the god’s neck is meant to symbolize his mastery over time. To a Hindu, such a familiar image found in a cave on Shiva’s holy mountain would certainly have been construed as a divine epiphany.”
“The relic is an impressive work of art by any standard,” Faye observed. “But what about the secret message it contains?” Resting her gaze on Griffin, she asked, “How much can you tell us about the glyphs?”
“Little enough, as per usual,” the scrivener replied lightly. “Since we were somewhat distracted while fleeing for our lives, Cassie and I didn’t have much time to discuss the meaning of the riddle. However, I can certainly tell you what it says.”
They all waited for him to retrieve a notebook from his carrying case and check it. Griffin flipped through several pages until he found the right passage. “Ah, yes. Here it is. The inscription reads: ‘The kindred stir upon the high sharp peak where the river flows red to the serpent’s heart. Under the lawgiver’s glare, its coils tremble in the mirror at the lion’s feet.’”
Erik scratched his head. “It sounds to me almost like the last riddle. I mean you’ve got the kindred again which stood for the flock of doves and another reference to a lion which stood for the headwaters of the Indus. Do you think the next artifact might be hidden right around Kailash somewhere?”
“We should be so lucky!” Cassie shook her head. “When I picked up the relic, I got a vision of a mountain, and it didn’t look anything like Kailash.”
“We also need to consider the phrase ‘the kindred stir,’” Griffin said. “‘Stir’ in this context would mean ‘awaken,’ and awakening is associated with sunrise. Therefore, we’re looking for a mountain directly east of Kailash.”
“Why directly east?” Erik persisted. “Why not southeast or northeast?”
“Because of the kindred, dude.” Cassie’s clarification did little to help.
Griffin filled in the blanks. “Just as our dove of the earlier riddle was geographically identified with the latitude of the Tropic of Cancer, the dove’s kindred are identified with Saptarishi Cave. Therefore, our new heading is approximately thirty-one degrees north. The riddle seems to be directing us to a mountain peak at that latitude somewhere east of Kailash.”
“But it could still be in Tibet,” Maddie observed cautiously.
“Perhaps, or it could be as far afield as China,” Griffin countered.
Wandering off-topic, Cassie remarked, “China is another country I’ve always wanted to visit. The perks on this job are incredible. You guys should print recruitment posters with the motto: ‘Join the Arkana and see the world.’ Of course, there’s a steep downside if you manage to get yourself killed in the process.”
“Whether it’s Tibet or China, this is still a good thing.” Maddie’s tone was encouraging. “You’ve got a course to start with. That means you won’t have as much downtime before the next mission.”
“Not exactly,” the pythia demurred. “This unknown mountain is someplace where winter has already arrived with a vengeance.”
“So?” the chatelaine retorted. “You’ve gotten around weather issues before.”
“I’m afraid this time we’ll have to wait for spring,” the scrivener demurred.
“We’re looking for a specific river that flows from the high sharp peak that’s mentioned in the riddle,” Cassie explained. “And we don’t know the direction of its current. It would be too hard to find during the winter.”
“Hard as in difficult?” Erik asked in disbelief. “That’s a new one. You’re not one to run away from a challenge.”
“Hard as in frozen,” Cassie replied matter-of-factly. “And buried under a couple of feet of snow by now.”
“I see your point,” Maddie conceded. “I guess that means until the rivers soften up in the spring, it’ll be business as usual for the pair of you. Griffin, I know your department has a ton of data to catalog.”
“Brilliant!” the scrivener exclaimed gleefully.
Turning to Cassie, the chatelaine added, “And there’s a huge stash of artifacts in your office waiting to be authenticated.”
The pythia gave a gloomy sigh. “When people come back from a successful field mission, they aren’t supposed to be punished.”
“Oh Maddie,” Faye rebuked mildly.
“I didn’t mean right this minute,” the chatel
aine protested. “You two should take a week or so to catch your breath. Then come back when you’re rested.”
“Sounds good to me,” Cassie agreed. “Fleeing from imaginary bandits can be exhausting.”
Faye checked her watch. “I should be returning home. The young people must be done studying by now, and it’s almost dinner time.” She rose slowly from her arm chair and swept Cassie and Griffin with a fond gaze. “Illusory thieves notwithstanding, you’ve both done an extraordinary job. You are to be congratulated.”
“Absolutely,” Erik concurred. “You guys did great.” He stood up. “I need to split too. I’m still working a part-time gig this week.” He paused and glanced at his former teammates. “So are we good?”
Griffin considered before answering. “Yes, I believe we are.”
The paladin fixed his full attention on the pythia. They stared at one another for a long moment, his unanswered question hanging in the air between them. Cassie fancied she caught a glimpse of regret in his eyes.
Finally, she gave a wistful nod. “Yeah, we’re good.”
Erik broke into a relieved smile and headed for the door.
“Watch your back, dude,” Cassie cautioned.
“Always, toots.”
Chapter 54—Regression Analysis
After the meeting broke up, Cassie wandered in the direction of her office. She wanted to assess the artifact backlog situation before leaving for home. When she switched on the lights, she could see Maddie hadn’t exaggerated. Objects were stacked around the corners of her desk, and other piles lined the walls. The waterfall panels trickled softly, and the dim background lights offered a mellow glow. Ordinarily, the sight and sound would have cheered her, but she was too tired to respond. Throwing herself into her chair, she slumped forward over her desk, resting her cheek on its cool obsidian surface. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
“Might I have a word?” Griffin tentatively poked his head around the frame.
“Sure. C’mon in. I thought you’d have gone by now.”
The scrivener entered and, maneuvering around the scattered artifacts, took a chair in front of Cassie’s desk. “I wanted to sort out a bit of filing first. I must say it felt good to surround myself with mundane matters again.”
Cassie shook her head, baffled by his enthusiasm. “You really are a cup-half-full kind of guy, aren’t you?”
“You’re hardly one to talk given your own appalling brand of optimism.” He propped his elbows on her desk and studied her face. Apparently noting its weary expression, he said, “Give us a smile.”
She regarded him gravely. “I shot an innocent geezer with fifty thousand volts of electricity—twice! I’m still processing that.”
“It was all in the line of duty. You shouldn’t take it to heart.”
“I don’t think the actual zapping is what’s bothering me.” She frowned in concentration, collecting her thoughts. “I’m supposed to have these mad intuitive skills. If I could channel an entire city at Mohenjo-Daro, why couldn’t I sense the harmlessness of one lone guy who was sent to guard us?”
The scrivener raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You’re blaming yourself for not being able to distinguish between a votary and a villain? There we disagree. I’m convinced your instincts about him were spot on. He posed a genuine threat.”
She peered at him uncomprehendingly. “I’m too tired to unpack that. You’ll have to do it for me.”
Griffin elaborated. “I believe Erik and Maddie seriously underestimated the danger of our situation. Those pilgrims were out to apprehend two thieves who had desecrated their shrine and stolen a holy relic. In point of fact, that’s exactly what we did. All they lacked was the proof of our crime. For the sake of argument, let’s suppose that while we were being detained, they examined the forgery. Paste gems and gold plating wouldn’t stand up to close scrutiny, and our misdeeds would have been exposed. How do you suppose those innocent pilgrims might have dealt with us?”
Cassie laughed grimly. “I’m guessing they would have hustled us over to the Darchen police station and then the Chinese government would have stepped in. It could have gotten ugly.”
“It could have gotten far uglier if they’d taken matters into their own hands,” he countered.
The pythia gasped as the implication struck her. “They wouldn’t! Would they?”
The scrivener gave a thin smile. “It seems to me that if they’d planned to involve the police, they wouldn’t have attacked us in the first place. They would have summoned the authorities to apprehend us instead. But they didn’t. They intended to mete out justice themselves. When people’s sacred beliefs are threatened, they are driven by emotion, not by reason and certainly not by the rule of law.”
She offered one final objection. “But there was only half a dozen of them. How bad could it have gotten?”
“Word of our sacrilege would have spread quickly. Angry mobs form much like snowballs rolling downhill. They get bigger as they travel.”
Cassie sat upright, her imagination painting a shocking picture of the probable outcome of Griffin’s scenario. “Well, when you put it that way—three cheers for Team Arkana! Kicking pilgrim butt was the right way to go.”
“Most assuredly, but we did far more than ‘kick pilgrim butt.’ Don’t you see?” His tone was urgent. “It was just the two of us, Cassie, yet we managed to give our captors the slip all the same. We didn’t need someone else to ride to our rescue. Doesn’t it reassure you to know that the next time trouble finds us, as it most certainly will, we’ll be more than a match for it?”
“Talk about appalling optimism.” Her voice was skeptical, but she felt her mood improving just the same.
Griffin continued. “Though I didn’t perceive it initially, Erik’s absence was a blessing in disguise. We’ve always relied on him not just as a security coordinator but as something of a security blanket. Without him, we were forced to draw on our own resources which proved to be considerable.”
The pythia grew pensive at his comment. “It seems like we’ve been drawing on our own resources for a long time now. Right before he quit the team, Erik reminded us that you saved the day in Spain and I was the one who got us out of Africa alive. He saw that we could take care of ourselves way before we did.”
Griffin leaned farther forward over her desk, gazing at her intently. “And our accomplishments are all the more remarkable given our shortcomings at the start. When I first met you, you were a confused adolescent with the social intelligence of a twelve-year-old.”
“Thanks for that.” She grimaced.
“But I was no better,” he objected. “I was a mild-mannered bookworm with an acute caffeine addiction and a pathological fear of leaving the vault. By no stretch of the imagination could either of us have been considered suitable field agent material—just an awkward librarian and a fledgling psychic.”
“You used to insist on being called an archivist,” she reminded him playfully.
“Hadn’t you heard,” he countered. “I’ve been promoted to Right Honourable Chief Scrivener. Admit it. You’re impressed.” He jutted his chin out, eyes twinkling, daring her to contradict him.
Cassie narrowed her gaze in mock disapproval. “You’re not the only one who got a promotion, pal. You’re in the presence of the Right Honourable Pythia. Show a little respect.”
They beamed at one another, silently acknowledging the distance they’d traveled.
Griffin rose to go. “I think I’ve made my point, so I’ll bid you goodnight and wish you a pleasant holiday.”
He walked to the door, but she rushed after him.
“Griffin, wait!”
“Yes.” He looked down at her quizzically.
She threw her arms around him and gave him a hug.
Taken aback, but pleased, he returned the embrace. When they parted, he asked, “What was that for?”
“Because you’re you.”
“E
xistentially speaking, it would be impossible for me to be anyone else. It defies—”
She grabbed his shirt collar and drew his face down close to hers. Then she kissed him on the cheek, rendering him speechless. “Goodnight, Right Honourable Chief Scrivener. Get some rest.”
“Yes, well, um...” He bumped into the doorframe on his way out. “Goodnight.”
Cassie slipped on her jacket and prepared to leave, pausing as she caught the echo of a jaunty tune bouncing down the corridor.
The pythia shook her head. “I never would have pegged him for a whistler. What’s that about?” She switched off the lights in her office and headed for the exit, anticipating an evening of decadent luxury—a long bubble bath followed by a pizza made with cheese that hadn’t come from a yak. In her newfound appreciation for simple pleasures, life didn’t need to get any better than that.
SECRETS OF THE SERPENT’S HEART
Secrets of the Serpent’s Heart
Book Six of Seven—Arkana Archaeology Mystery Thriller Series
http://www.mythofhistory.com
Copyright © 2015 by N. S. Wikarski
Second Revised Edition 2017
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1—How a Golden Age Turns Bronze
Gansu Province, Northern China, 2650 BCE
During the age of Shen-Nung, people rested at ease and acted with vigor. They knew their mothers but not their fathers. They lived among deer. They ate what they cultivated and wore what they wove. They did not think of harming one another. –Zhuangzi
Arkana Archaeology Mystery Box Set 2 Page 30