Elle paused in her narrative to give a sardonic chuckle. “‘Someday.’ That’s such a vague word, isn’t it? It can mean a week, or it can mean three thousand years. So, from one generation to the next, my ancestors appointed a member of the family to keep watch over the cave until ‘someday’ arrived.”
“Then you’re Mosuo?” Griffin asked.
“Partly. My ancestors crossed paths with your Minoans in the Himalayas but the sentinel at that time settled down here. My family considers itself Mosuo now. Not me though. Like the song says, I was born in the USA. When my mom was young, she wanted to see the world, so she bolted from here decades ago. Moved to New York. Became a cab driver. She never looked back, and neither did I.”
“You looked back!” Rou countered. “You are here.”
The sentinel cocked an amused eyebrow. “So, she can speak after all.” Turning her attention to the other two, she added, “And she’s not wrong. Family has a way of roping you back in. Try arguing with a Mosuo matriarch, and you’ll know what I mean. Ancestral honor, sacred trust, yaddy yaddy. You get the picture. My grandmother was the sentinel until she decided about ten years ago that she’d gotten too old for the job. She needed to figure out who was destined to replace her, so she consulted one of the local crackpots who put the sham in the word ‘shaman.’” Elle gritted her teeth. “If I ever catch up with that snake charmer...”
“So, you moved back once you were named the sentinel,” Griffin concluded.
“Hardly! I didn’t bust my butt to create a fabulous life for myself in New York just so I could spend the rest of my days lurking in a bat cave!” She glared at the scrivener. “There are other ways.”
“Such as?” he prompted.
“Such as psychics.”
“You mean you relied on paranormal advice to predict when we would arrive?” He sounded incredulous.
“Really? You want to go there?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “This whole gig has woo-woo written all over it. A seer is hardly mainstream. After the exhibition I saw when you first came in, I’d say your girlfriend doesn’t just ride the astral plane. She could pilot it solo.”
“G... girlfriend.” Griffin seemed flustered, but he didn’t contradict Elle’s assessment of their relationship. “I suppose we do rely on the paranormal in our line of work as well.”
“Anyway,” Elle continued. “At first, I checked with a couple of psychics to see just how long I was going to be tied to this legacy gig. After all, I had no reason to assume the chick with the grey eyes was going to show up during my lifetime. You could have knocked me over with a powder puff when they all told me it would happen soon. Yet another vague word I dislike—‘soon.’ That’s when I decided to go on the offensive and track down the seer myself. I put every big-name New York psychic on retainer. Each month they’d give me their predictions about her whereabouts. Most of the time they contradicted one other, so I waited until I hit the paranormal equivalent of a trifecta.” She paused for emphasis. “Every single one of them independently confirmed that this month, ‘soon’ would turn into ‘now.’ The seer would show up at Lugu Lake.”
“A month is a pretty big window of time,” Cassie noted.
“Yeah, it is. Try sitting in this cave for a single hour, and you’ll understand the meaning of the word ‘excruciating.’ So, I phoned an astrologer I know. She specializes in precision timing, and she was able to narrow your ETA down to today.”
“It seems you made quite a leap of faith,” Griffin said.
“She charges big bucks because she’s dead-on accurate when it comes to timing an event. I figured she could be trusted.” She jumped off her perch. “Speaking of leaps of faith, you three took a huge jump yourselves by showing up in this cave. You had no way of knowing your precious relic was hidden here at all, much less whether it would still be around after three thousand years.”
“Obviously, it isn’t,” the scrivener retorted.
“She knows where it is,” Rou growled from behind them.
“Ooh, your little shih tzu is getting snappish,” Elle commented archly.
“Rou’s right,” Cassie said. “You wouldn’t have bothered to hang out here to meet us if you didn’t know where the artifact is.”
Elle inclined her head. “Fair enough. I do know where it is. But first, some standard boilerplate. The original sentinel was given a mandate that’s been passed down through the ages. He was supposed to ask the seer one question before surrendering the relic. If she couldn’t answer it, then the artifact was to stay under wraps.” In an unexpected move, the sentinel reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a small handgun. She pointed it directly at Cassie’s chest. “OK, grey eyes. Time to find out if you’re the real deal.”
“Whoa, hang on there,” the pythia protested.
All three of the Arkana operatives raised their hands above their heads.
“What do you intend to do? Shoot her if she gives an incorrect answer?” Griffin cried in disbelief.
“No, I’ll split, and you’ll never see me again,” Elle replied. “This gun is for my protection. Who’s to say you aren’t imposters? One of me, three of you. You might force me to take you to the artifact using unpleasant means of persuasion.”
“We’d never do such a thing!” Griffin protested hotly.
“I’ve known you for all of fifteen minutes, so you’ll excuse me if I don’t take your word as gospel.” Elle’s tone was grim.
“Ask your question,” Cassie commanded flatly.
Elle transferred her attention back to the pythia. “Here goes. You need to give me a physical description of the person who hid the artifact in this cave.”
“What?” The scrivener’s voice echoed into the darkness. “That’s absurd! How is she supposed to know that?”
“Griffin, it’s alright. I got this.” Cassie lowered her arms cautiously. “I have to walk back to the niche to pick up a vibe about what happened here.”
“Knock yourself out.” Elle kept the pistol trained on her as Cassie moved toward the shadows blanketing the side wall.
The pythia contemplated the now empty niche. She tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. So much was riding on this moment. If she couldn’t get a vision on cue, the sentinel would vanish forever. Elle would take with her the Arkana’s only hope of finding the Sage Stone. The quest that had led them across four continents could end in the next five minutes depending on the answer Cassie gave. She smiled wryly to herself. No pressure there. She uttered a silent prayer to the Minoans. “OK, you guys. If you really want me to find your precious relic, then you better step up. Show me what happened in this cave three thousand years ago.” She closed her eyes and placed her hand inside the niche. Immediately, the scene sprang to life in vivid detail. Cassie waited until she was sure there was no more left to see. Then, giving a sigh of relief and a whispered “thank you,” she turned to face Elle.
“There were only four of them left by the time they got here. It was a larger group when they first started out from Crete. A few must have died along the way. I saw the priestess. She was the one who placed the artifact in the niche. She’s an old woman with long white hair. I’ve had visions of her before. She’s always dressed in a white robe. When she was here, she was wearing a white hooded cloak too. It must have been cold that day.”
“Congratulations.” Elle nodded with grudging respect. “You’ve just won our stupendous grand prize along with a six-month supply of carnauba wax.” Treating Griffin to a scornful glance, she added, “And I’m the one who’s crazy for trusting East Coast psychics.”
He shuffled his feet in embarrassment. “I withdraw the observation.”
“No hard feelings, I hope.” The sentinel slipped the gun back into her bag. “Dealing in lost treasure is a dangerous business. A girl can’t be too careful.”
Cutting to the chase, Rou demanded, “Where is the artifact?”
Elle raised her arms expressively. “N
ot here, lemon drop. The cave isn’t safe anymore which is so ironic when you come to think about it. This was a secure hiding place for three thousand years. The locals were never a threat. It would have been sacrilegious for them to touch, much less remove, anything from the cave. Nope, the locals were OK. Even the first wave of tourists was OK since the only way to get here was on foot or by horse. Right up through my grandmother’s time, sentinels could keep tabs on strangers in the area by simply using the village grapevine.
“But that was the end of an era. When the cableway was built in 2005, it could haul droves of people to the top of the mountain in a matter of minutes. What used to be a handful turned into hundreds and then thousands. When I became sentinel, I knew I had to move the damn relic or lose it.” She shrugged philosophically. “That turned out to be a blessing in disguise since it meant I wouldn’t have to hang out here full-time. I could stash the artifact someplace else where nobody but me could find it.”
“So where is it now?” Cassie asked.
“The safest place in all of Asia to hide a goddess artifact.” The sentinel gave a knowing smile.
“And that would be?” The pythia was growing impatient.
“Indonesia, of course.”
“I beg your pardon,” Griffin squinted at her.
‘Did I mumble?” Elle challenged.
“Right then.” The scrivener sighed helplessly. “Ours is not to reason why. Cassie, pack your bags. We’re off to Indonesia.”
Chapter 28—Abominable Writing
“Are you done with these?” Chris leaned over the pile of journals Daniel had been perusing.
The scion rubbed his eyes wearily. “This man may have been a competent explorer, but it’s obvious he was no writer!”
“He is kind of long-winded.” Chris slid three slim volumes under a stack of reference books. He placed all of them on a cart to be wheeled back to storage.
For the past week, the pair had combed through the explorer’s journals searching for something that might help them find their mysterious Himalayan river. They worked on a few volumes at a time so that the full collection wouldn’t be missed.
Chris took a seat beside Daniel and lowered his voice. “We need to pick up the pace. I just heard the entire set might be moved to a branch library next week.”
“How many more books do we have to go through?” Daniel’s tone was bleak.
“About ten volumes.”
The scion slumped over the reading room table. “I don’t think I can stand any more. The man is a complete barbarian. If he isn’t writing about what he slaughtered for breakfast, he’s writing about what he intends to massacre for supper. It makes you wonder if he ever digested a vegetable in his entire life. And when he isn’t writing about murdering his food, he writes about animals he intends to assassinate for sport. The wildlife of the Himalayas wasn’t safe with him in the region. Do you know he scribbled two entire volumes reporting his interviews with sherpas who thought they’d seen yetis? He said he wanted to shoot one and stuff it. A yeti, that is, not a sherpa.”
The librarian grinned. “The quest for the Abominable Snowman, huh? At least it’s a diversion.”
“Diversion?” Daniel’s tone was shocked. “His descriptions are mind-numbing. Listen to this passage: ‘Although none of the guides I have employed heretofore were able to produce tangible evidence of a yeti footprint, I continue to be sanguine in my hopes. My persistence shall be rewarded. We have now traveled to the foothills of the Tanggula Mountain Range in the central portion of the Tibetan plateau. A profusion of yeti footprints, if not the creatures themselves, have supposedly been found near the top of Mount Geladaindong. At twenty-two-thousand feet above sea level, it is the tallest summit in the range. My sherpa is adamant that the elusive creatures live upon the high sharp peak, for that is what the mountain’s name means in Tibetan. I have further been informed by the same reliable source that the area also boasts a colony of snow leopards. I should very much like to bag one during my stay. Its head would make a fine addition to my trophy room and—’”
“Stop!” Chris commanded, gripping Daniel’s arm.
The scion peered at his friend. “I know. I can’t bear it either. It’s awful stuff. Aside from the writing itself, aren’t snow leopards endangered?”
“No, that isn’t what I meant.” Chris cast a wary glance around the reading room. Its two other occupants were immersed in their own studies. He lowered his voice. “Go back to the explorer’s description of the mountain. Read that part again.”
Daniel scanned the page, finding the relevant passage. “Here it is. ‘A profusion of yeti footprints, if not the creatures themselves, have supposedly been found near the top of Mount Geladaindong. At twenty-two-thousand feet above sea level, it is the tallest summit in the range.’” The scion looked inquisitively at the librarian.
Chris was frowning in concentration. “No, that’s not it. Read the next sentence.”
“‘My sherpa is adamant that the elusive creatures live upon the high sharp peak, for that is what the mountain’s name means in Tibetan.’” Daniel stopped abruptly and turned to Chris.
Both men smiled simultaneously.
“High sharp peak,” the librarian repeated in an elated tone.
“That’s it!” Daniel exclaimed. “We found it!”
“Shhhh!” A warning shush came from one of the reading room’s occupants.
“Very sorry,” the scion murmured.
“Let’s go back to my desk,” Chris urged. “I want to check something on the computer. And bring that book with you.”
They hastened back to the Reference Desk, and Chris darted behind the counter. “The whole point of mentioning the ‘high sharp peak’ in the riddle was to get a fix on a river, right?”
Daniel stood in front of the counter. He nodded solemnly. “A river that runs red to the serpent’s heart. I’m not sure what that part means.”
“One thing at a time.” Chris studied his monitor intently. He typed a few keystrokes. “I’m trying to find out if the headwaters of any major river start at that peak. What was it again?”
Daniel spelled the name.
“Jackpot!” Chris turned the monitor so Daniel could see it.
“The glacial meltwaters beside Mount Geladaindong give rise to the Yangtze River.” The scion read the words in a disbelieving tone. “We solved part of the riddle by stumbling on an obscure reference in an obscure journal purely by accident.”
“There are no accidents, my friend.” Chris retorted.
Daniel squinted at him.
“Never mind. That’s a much longer conversation.” The librarian began typing again. “I want to test a theory about your riddle. What was the name of that mountain you climbed in Nepal?”
“It was called Kailash.”
Chris typed again. “Latitude thirty-one degrees north.” He typed another string of characters then turned triumphantly to the scion. “The headwaters of the Yangtze are also located at thirty-one degrees north.”
“So that’s what the first line of the riddle meant. I finally understand it.” Daniel was speaking more to himself than to the librarian. “The flock of doves originated on Kailash and flew in a straight line toward sunrise—east. They perched on the high sharp peak where the river begins. It’s all so obvious.”
Chris was only partially listening, intent on a new search. “Ha!” he exclaimed. “And here’s another piece of your jigsaw puzzle. When the Yangtze flows from the mountain, it starts out as a smaller river.”
“The Ulan Moron,” Daniel read aloud. “That’s a funny name for a river.”
“Not Moron, you adorable wingnut. It’s pronounced ‘Mor-AHN.’” Chris turned his gaze fully on Daniel. “In English, Ulan Moron means ‘Red River.’”
“‘Where the river flows red to the serpent’s heart.’” Daniel repeated the clue. “The Red River.”
Chris leaned his elbow on the counter and propped
his chin in his hand. “You’d better start packing, Danny Boy.”
“But we’ve only solved the first line,” Daniel protested.
“One down, one to go.” The librarian’s eyes were twinkling. “Between the two of us, I’ll bet we can crack the rest of that riddle before the week is out.”
The scion gave a grateful smile. “I’ll dust off my suitcase tonight.”
Chapter 29—Location, Location, Location
Griffin, Cassie, and Elle handed their boarding passes to the gate attendant and found their row on the plane. It held three seats across. Elle chose the center, Cassie the window and Griffin the aisle for more leg room.
Cassie leaned back against the cushioned headrest, breathed a sigh of relief, and closed her eyes. It had been a hectic few days. When they’d first come down the mountain, Elle insisted that they go to her grandmother’s house, so the matriarch could meet the seer who had come to claim the artifact at last. The old woman, sturdy in spite of her eighty-odd years, immediately announced a feast to celebrate the occasion. None of the rest of Elle’s extended family had been let in on the sentinel secret. They were told that the celebration was to welcome Elle and her Western friends.
Aside from yak butter tea, fried pancakes, seasonal vegetables, and Guangdang wine, the guests were offered slices of pork from a pig which had been pressed and aged for seven years. When Elle explained to the visitors that seven-year-old pig meat was the equivalent of uncorking a bottle of 1921 Dom Perignon, they were suitably impressed.
While the festivities continued on into the night, Griffin slipped away to call Maddie with an update. When he reported back to his colleagues, he said the chatelaine would contact the Tibetan twins immediately. Rinchen was to fly to Lugu Lake to help Rou keep watch just in case the Nephilim arrived sooner than expected. Rabten was to fly to Indonesia where he would meet Cassie and Griffin to arrange transport for the real artifact. Rou seemed anxious about being left behind until she was told her role as lookout was critical to the success of their quest.
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