Arkana Archaeology Mystery Box Set 2

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Arkana Archaeology Mystery Box Set 2 Page 33

by N. S. Wikarski


  “I guess that means I’d better start packing.” Cassie began clearing cups and plates.

  “Gracious me! Look at the time.” Faye consulted her wrist watch. “If I don’t leave immediately, the young people will get home before I do. Hannah wasn’t to know about my absence.”

  “Sounds like you’re the one who’s got a curfew, not them,” Maddie said.

  “Doesn’t it though.” Faye rose to depart.

  Taking that as their cue, the others stood up, collected their coats and headed for the door.

  Cassie received another round of birthday congratulations before bidding them all goodnight.

  Erik lagged behind the rest. He stood hesitating in the living room. When Cassie shut the door and turned to him with a questioning gaze, he asked, “Can we talk?”

  Chapter 5—Feathered Fiend

  Abraham leaned back in his office chair and eyed the pendulum clock on the wall. It was late, and he’d already had a very taxing day. Early that same morning, he’d finally broken the news to Daniel that his wife Annabeth was dead. Of course, she’d died months earlier on his orders, but his son didn’t know that. The scion must never know. Abraham explained to Daniel that Annabeth had succumbed while convalescing from mental collapse at a private hospital. Daniel hadn’t taken the news well. He blamed himself for abandoning his wife when she needed him most. It did no good for Abraham to remonstrate that the relic hunt must always take priority over domestic concerns. The diviner consoled himself with the sure knowledge that time would make Daniel forget his distress. One day, his son would be reunited with his wife in the Celestial Kingdoms and Daniel would realize that his father had acted for the best. For his part, Abraham was glad to be done with Annabeth and the potentially awkward discussion of her demise. He could put all that behind him now.

  The diviner stifled a yawn. He felt unbearably weary, but his workday wasn’t over yet. He was scheduled to hold a meeting in ten minutes. For half a second he considered postponing it until the morning but then sternly reminded himself that duty mattered more than rest. Not that rest was likely to arrive after duty had been discharged. He could scarcely remember the last time he’d been able to sleep more than an hour or two a night. Abraham never woke refreshed. He dragged exhaustion around with him throughout the day like a ball and chain.

  He blinked rapidly to fight the drowsiness that had lately begun to creep up on him at odd moments. A short nap never brought relief, only a distressing sense of disorientation when he awoke. No, he would not shut his eyes though they were burning with fatigue. Joshua was due to arrive shortly with half a dozen malefactors from the satellite compounds on the west coast. Abraham intended to dispatch them to perdition this very night—or rather dispatch them to Dr. Aboud’s laboratory which amounted to much the same thing. Then perhaps he could rest. He could...

  Abraham still sat in his office chair, but he felt strangely immobilized. He couldn’t seem to move his arms or legs. A peculiar sense of lethargy had overtaken him. The lamp on his desk still burned dimly. The pendulum still swung monotonously below the clock face. His head was swimming. The familiar objects in his office melted into the background. The room seemed enveloped in fog. He saw an object far off in the distance. It appeared to emerge from a long tunnel and drift toward him. It was the figure of a woman. She drew nearer, but her feet weren’t touching the floor. She floated in the air near where he judged the ceiling to his office had been just a moment before.

  “Hello, Father,” the woman said.

  “I know you,” he murmured.

  She laughed mirthlessly. “I should hope so.”

  It was Annabeth—his son Daniel’s dead wife. But this spectral version of Annabeth was different somehow. She didn’t fidget or cower before his stern gaze.

  “What do you want from me,” he demanded petulantly. “It’s late, and I have an appointment to keep.”

  She wafted nearer, perhaps ten feet away but still floating above him. “I don’t want anything from you. I’m here to give you a message.”

  He noticed for the first time that she was dressed oddly. Instead of the grey garb of a consecrated bride, she wore a long white robe of a diaphanous material that drifted on invisible air currents. Her hair was no longer braided and coiled around her head. Rather it was unbound and rippled about her shoulders. Abraham noticed with a start that she now held an infant in her arms. The child hadn’t been there a moment earlier.

  Annabeth smiled down fondly at the child. Then she directed her gaze at the diviner. “As you can see, I found my son.” She paused. “Where is yours?” A fleeting smirk crossed her face. “Oh, that’s right. You lost him.”

  Abraham felt a pang of sadness at her mockery. Annabeth was referring to Hannah’s child—the baby who had been born and died in the Fallen Lands.

  The apparition spoke again. “Your boy was only the first to fall. Two more will follow.” She counted on her fingers for emphasis. “One, two, three sons lost to you. How sad.”

  The diviner wanted to cry out in disbelief, but he couldn’t seem to find his voice. He remained frozen, forced to listen mutely to the vile creature’s predictions.

  She advanced a few feet and regarded him dispassionately. Her child seemed to match her detached expression as he too gazed down at the diviner without a trace of anxiety or curiosity. “Three sons lost to you forever. Yet an even greater loss than all these three awaits.”

  “You lie!” he challenged, finding his voice at last. “You are the devil’s instrument as you always were in life, sent to frighten me with your deceit.”

  “I do not come from the devil.”

  To Abraham’s amazement, he saw huge white wings sprouting from her shoulder blades. It happened right before his eyes. They spread wide and lifted her higher in the air.

  “My lady angel told me all these things would come to pass,” she explained.

  “How dare you presume to tell me the future? Your preposterous female angel is a false seer. I am the Lord’s true prophet! I am the diviner!”

  Annabeth raised a skeptical eyebrow at his posturing. “You are a frail, frightened old man. You grasp at straws while your house falls about your ears. Its cornerstone has crumbled.”

  “Begone, witch!” He could feel a sense of panic creeping into his throat. “Begone, demon!”

  She shook her head and laughed lightly. “I am neither witch nor demon. Not enough power to be a witch. Not enough malice to be a demon. Goodbye, Father.” Her voice held a hint of derision as it pronounced the last word. Her wings lifted her higher still, and she seemed to dissolve into the distance.

  He felt his body being rocked from side to side. A hand was shaking him by the shoulder.

  “Father, wake up!” The tone was urgent, worried.

  In a flash, Abraham returned to wakefulness. His son Joshua was peering into his face.

  The diviner shoved him away brusquely. “What do you want?”

  His son hesitated. “I... uh... I’m sorry if I startled you. You were in a deep sleep. Your lips were moving. Your arms and legs were twitching. I feared you might be experiencing some kind of seizure.”

  “Seizure!” Abraham roared in disbelief. He raised himself to his feet. “I am sound in wind and limb. Don’t be ridiculous!”

  “Of course, Father.” The spymaster backed away. “Just as you say.”

  With a start, Abraham realized that half a dozen men loitered awkwardly in the corners of the room. They had all witnessed this shocking display of his vulnerability. He needed to recover his composure. “I’ll meet with you all in the morning. You have my leave to go.”

  “But Father,” his son protested weakly.

  A glare from the diviner silenced him.

  “As you wish,” Joshua murmured. He studied his father through narrowed eyes but made no further comment. Then he turned to his charges. “You men come with me. I’ll arrange sleeping quarters for you.”

  They allo
wed themselves to be shepherded out of the diviner’s presence though more than one looked askance at the old man before leaving.

  “Joshua!” the diviner called after him.

  “Sir?” The spymaster returned.

  “Send Brother Andrew to me immediately. If he isn’t in the infirmary, wake him. I have an urgent matter to discuss.”

  That look of calculating appraisal crossed Joshua’s face once more, but he asked no further questions. Nodding his assent, he let himself out and closed the door.

  ***

  Ten minutes later, a short, balding man in his sixties scurried into the diviner’s office. He had obviously dressed in a hurry. His top shirt button was undone, his tie was knotted sloppily, and his sparse hair was uncombed. Brother Andrew constituted the Nephilim’s sole resource for medical advice. An herbalist before he joined the brotherhood, he’d retained some fundamental knowledge of how to diagnose disease and could recommend a limited array of remedies.

  Without preamble, the diviner commanded, “Sit down.” He’d been pacing the office restlessly but resumed his seat at Brother Andrew’s arrival.

  The herbalist looked anxious. “Have I done something wrong, Father?”

  “What?” Abraham asked sharply. Then softening his tone, he added, “No, of course not.”

  The man visibly relaxed.

  “I’ve been having difficulty sleeping,” the diviner explained.

  Brother Andrew seemed perplexed. “Didn’t the tincture I prepared for you help?”

  Abraham thought back to his unnerving experience with the foul-tasting medicine. “No, it didn’t. I poured it down the drain. It gave me bad dreams.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  The old man leaned forward over his desk and spoke in a confidential tone. “What we discuss here is to remain private. Is that understood?”

  Brother Andres nodded vehemently.

  “Good. I want you to prepare something potent enough to allow me to get to sleep and to stay asleep. Do you understand? I don’t wish to dream at all!”

  “Well, that’s a bit difficult to control,” the herbalist hedged. “I can’t think of any plant that would suppress dreams completely.”

  “You must do something!” Abraham’s fist landed on his desk with a thud. “This situation is unbearable. I can hardly sleep anymore, and when I do, I’m troubled by terrible nightmares. It’s now gotten to the point that I’m having difficulty distinguishing dreams from reality.”

  “Hmmm,” Brother Andrew said noncommittally. “Your condition indicates acute anxiety. There are substances that could help with that but...” he hesitated.

  “Out with it, man!” Abraham commanded.

  The herbalist continued warily. “I can make a tincture from the poppy plant, but it would need to be prepared with alcohol. The Nephilim are forbidden to drink.”

  “This isn’t a drink, it’s a medicine,” the diviner retorted.

  “That’s very true,” Brother Andrew agreed. “I’ll need your permission to obtain the necessary ingredients.”

  Abraham waved his arm dismissively. “Of course.”

  “There’s one more thing, Father.” Again, Brother Andrew faltered. “This tincture is very strong and may cause you to become dependent on its use over time.”

  Abraham gave a bark of a laugh. “That’s your concern? My sanity is hanging by a thread, and you cavil about dependency. Will this medicine of yours stop me from dreaming or not?”

  The herbalist sighed. “It won’t stop you from dreaming. No, it can’t do that. But it will produce a profound sense of calm and replace your nightmares with sweet dreams. Very sweet dreams indeed. At least for a time.”

  “Well then, what are you waiting for,” the diviner demanded tartly. “You’ll begin immediately. I hope your remedy lives up to its promise.”

  Brother Andrew’s face took on a troubled expression. “People have been using it for hundreds of years. It will do all I’ve said, but perhaps it will do more than you bargained for.”

  Abraham gave a thin smile. “For one good night’s sleep, no price is too high to pay.”

  Chapter 6—Time and Tide...

  The paladin stood in the center of Cassie’s living room jangling his car keys.

  “What did you want to talk about?” the pythia prompted.

  His eyes traveled around the room as if he were desperately searching for a way out. “I could use some fresh air,” he said distractedly.

  Cassie brightened. “I’ve got just the thing. Check this out.” She opened a coat closet to display a standing infrared lamp. “Help me carry it out to the patio.”

  Erik hoisted the heavy lamp and brought it to the concrete slab outside the dining room that constituted Cassie’s backyard.

  She plugged the cord into an outdoor socket and switched it on. The light emitted a reddish glow, and gentle warmth immediately radiated around the small terrace. Cassie returned to the closet to retrieve two collapsible lawn chairs and brought those outside as well.

  “It’s been a long winter, and I was going stir-crazy being cooped up in the vault all day,” she explained. “Once the snow melted, I got the brainstorm of treating myself to a heat lamp. That way I could get a little fresh air in the evenings without also getting frostbite.”

  Erik nodded approvingly. “Smart idea.” He took a seat.

  Cassie stood by the open patio door. “Hey, do you want a beer?”

  The paladin grinned. “Look at you. All grown up and offering me a drink from your very own private stash.”

  “Don’t get too excited. It was left over from the party. Somebody besides me needs to drink it.”

  After a few moments, she returned with two bottles and handed one to her guest.

  He raised a questioning eyebrow when he noticed the second bottle still in her hand.

  “Relax, pops. It’s light beer.” She settled into the other lawn chair.

  The lights from the dormant fountain in the center of the frozen retention pond cast a pallid glow across the crust of ice.

  “Another week and that’ll be gone.” Cassie tilted her head in the direction of the ice.

  “You’ll be gone by then too,” Erik observed.

  She stared at him in the dim light. “Yeah, that’s true.” Not wanting to hurry him, she waited in silence.

  He began with a casual question. “So, are you and Griffin a couple now?

  “What!” she exclaimed in shock. “Where did you get a crazy idea like that?”

  Erik put up his hands. “Whoa. I couldn’t help noticing that you seemed pretty chummy at the party, that’s all.”

  “And that’s all we are. Chums. Teammates. Friends. BFFs as a matter of fact.” She scowled at him. “And how is that your business anyway? You’re the one who bailed, remember?”

  “Yeah, I did,” he admitted. “Like you said, it’s none of my business. Just drop it, OK?”

  She nodded curtly. “OK then.” Settling back into her seat, she set her bottle on the concrete. In a calmer tone, she asked, “So what did you want to tell me?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a long swig of beer and stared off into the darkness. “I thought I’d have more time,” he remarked cryptically.

  “For what?”

  He sighed. “Time to figure out how to say what I want to say. As it is, I just flew back tonight, and here you are about to ship out. So, I guess it’s now or never.”

  She made no comment.

  Another half minute ticked by while he continued to gaze out at the frozen pond and gather his thoughts. Eventually, he said, “You weren’t completely wrong. I mean, what you said while we were still in India.”

  “About what exactly?” she asked softly.

  “About that wall you told me I’d built around my heart. About me being scared that you might break through it someday.”

  She nodded in silent acknowledgment but didn’
t push him further.

  He continued. “Here’s the thing. I'm really good at my job. It’s not bragging. Just a fact. Over the years I’ve worked with dozens of field agents under some pretty dicey conditions. A handful of them didn’t make it back home, but I always did. The main reason why I’m still breathing, and they’re not is because I never let my guard down. Not ever. Keeping that wall up kept me alive. But then you came along and expected me to tear it down like it was the easiest thing in the world to do.”

  “I never thought it was going to be easy,” she countered faintly.

  He didn’t seem to hear her. Forging on, he added, “Part of me wants to, but the bigger part of me doesn't.”

  Cassie registered surprise. She’d always thought he was unaware of his feelings. It had never occurred to her that he believed his defensiveness offered some kind of tactical advantage.

  Erik was still speaking. “Blame it on force of habit or just pure stubbornness but, either way, I’m not ready to take that wall down. At least not today. I've got a feeling it won't be anytime soon either. Maybe never.” He turned to face her, his tone earnest. “Cass, you need to know that I’m not that guy. The guy you need me to be.”

  She smiled wistfully, her eyes traveling toward the retention pond. “That water is so easy to freeze. Drop the temp twenty degrees, and it’s solid. Not a ripple. If you kept the air cold enough, it could stay that way forever.” She transferred her attention back to Erik. “I wish it was that easy to do with time. I appreciate the heads up you just gave me. I do. But there’s something you need to realize about me too. Life keeps on remolding me like a lump of clay on a potter’s wheel. Since I joined the Arkana, I’ve changed so much and so fast that I don’t know who I’ll be by the time this scavenger hunt is finished.” She paused before adding gently, “You need to understand that by the time you get around to being that guy, if you ever do, I won't be this girl anymore."

  “And here I thought love was supposed to last forever,” the paladin joked.

  “Is that what this is?” Cassie asked in mild surprise.

 

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