By now, Thatcher was sure that Cully had viewed the Master Stone and it was quite possible he’d found the map. If he had, there was little chance Thatcher would find a Flash Stone for the buyer and Pacal could forget ever finding his precious Seed Stone.
The buzz from his cell phone startled Thatcher. He punched the green “accept call” icon and said, “Hello.”
“Dr. Thatcher, it is I,” the deep voice boomed.
Adopting on a sugary tone, “Pacal my friend, how are you?”
Silence echoed on the other end of the call. Even though Pacal had known Thatcher for many years, he did not consider him a friend. In this matter, he was purely a business partner. A distasteful but necessary one. At least, originally he had been necessary. Now Pacal wasn’t as convinced. He finally answered, “I am weary, Dr. Thatcher. I have spent three days non-stop hunting for the map.”
“And?”
“I am disappointed to tell you I do not have it. But I know who has it now and where it is,” Pacal answered.
“You do? Is it Cully?”
“Yes. Dr. Anlon just received the map. I followed him to Vermont where he met with Miss Anabel, Dr. Devlin’s woman friend. He entered the home with nothing in his hands and left with a briefcase. I am certain the map was in the case,” Pacal explained.
Thatcher punched his thigh. Damn, he thought!
Pacal continued to speak, “Dr. Devlin took great pains to scatter the pieces necessary to find what we each seek before his unfortunate death. He must have suspected more was at work than just Mr. Matthew’s thefts. I don’t know how; I was very careful.”
“Look, Pacal, I spoke with our buyers earlier today. They were very put out that we haven’t delivered on our promise. They want the Flash Stone very badly. We are running out of time!” blustered a frustrated Thatcher.
His entreaties were meaningless to Pacal. To find the Seed Stone was all he cared about, and if he acquired the map on his own, Pacal didn’t need Thatcher at all. As he gazed down at the Seed Stone ring on his finger, he thought, “With the map, I can also find the gold Trade Stone coins, and then I’ll have all the gold I need to live a long and comfortable life…a very long life.”
At first when Thatcher approached him a few months prior with his plan to “borrow” and copy Devlin’s map, Pacal rebuffed him. How Thatcher knew about the map, Pacal didn’t know. But when Pacal challenged him, he was floored to discover he knew about the six Life Stones too.
And he made Pacal an offer that was hard to refuse. Bring him a readable copy of the map and his buyers would give Pacal a Seed Stone and Black Earth. How Thatcher knew of his lust for the Seed Stone was also a mystery. Though, the more Pacal considered it, the more he realized he’d been indiscreet over the years as he sought the mythical life extender.
Pacal pressed Thatcher about where he acquired his knowledge of the map and stones. The cagey professor said he had been following Devlin’s progress from afar. Pacal did not believe him. More likely, he thought, the Hong Kong buyers manipulating Thatcher behind the scenes possessed the knowledge and fed Thatcher enough to make him sound credible.
In his heart, Pacal didn’t trust Thatcher. He demanded proof. To his shock, Thatcher met him a week after his initial pitch carrying a tall, thin box. After awkward pleasantries, Thatcher presented the box to him without explanation. Pacal opened the box and inside was a flowering plant. An oleander potted in the darkest, most aromatic soil Pacal had ever seen or sniffed. Astonished, Pacal looked at Thatcher and said, “Is this what I think it is?”
Though Thatcher had zero clue what he’d handed to Pacal, he nodded with surety. The Hong Kong buyer instructed Thatcher to give Pacal the box as proof of their ability to deliver on their end of the bargain. And that sealed Pacal’s commitment.
When Pacal reached home the evening he received the plant, he broke off a few of the fully blossomed flowers and crushed them into a tincture, mixed them in fruit juice and drank the concoction. It had been a huge risk.
Oleander is extremely poisonous to humans. If the buyer really had a Seed Stone and had been able to alter the molecular makeup of the plant’s seeds, the fully mature flowers would lose their poisonous properties to humans. The flowers would instead contain enzymes that killed degenerative cells, turning a dangerous plant into a life-extending one.
And oleander was not the only plant the Seed Stone affected in this way. Several, common poisonous plants could be enhanced in the same way. Pacal didn’t know how or why the Stone Benders had divined this methodology, he only knew he thirsted for a longer, healthier life.
Within four days, he’d consumed all the mature flowers of the oleander presented to him, unsure of how many to include in each tincture. He anxiously waited for new flowers to blossom and understood why the buyers had so readily provided the plant. The tincture’s effects were noticeable within hours, but faded relatively quickly. In order to achieve the healing benefits, a more potent tincture was necessary. This meant a garden full of the flowers was required, not a single potted plant.
When Pacal was a boy, his grandmother told him fables about ancestors who lived unnaturally long lives, nearly double a human’s current life span. She told him the “old peoples,” as she referred to them, drank poisonous mixtures that renewed their bodies. She said the “old peoples” drew pictures of the poisonous plants on rocks in the Andes to remind them which ones to choose. She said they grew the plants in the valleys below the Andes using an inky soil that no longer existed. It was an extravagant story, one that stayed lodged in his memory.
As a young man, Pacal shelved the memory. So full of life and vigor, the idea of death was inconceivable. Even as he aged, the memory served mostly as a good fireside tale to share when out on digs with visiting archaeologists. Until one day, almost a decade ago, when around a campfire he told the story to Devlin Wilson.
Unlike the other archaeologists who listened to Pacal’s fable, Devlin didn’t laugh and mock him when he finished the tale. No, Devlin stared straight at him and asked him if his grandmother was still alive. He asked Pacal if he knew where the rock drawings were located. His interest shook Pacal up. Sadly, he’d shared, his grandmother was no longer alive and he’d never seen any drawings like the ones she described. It was just a myth as far as he was concerned.
Devlin had stared into the blazing campfire, watching the embers drift upward into the night sky and said, “I’m not so sure. I’ve seen the drawings. I just didn’t know what they meant...until now.”
From that moment, Pacal became obsessed with the fable and with building a relationship with Devlin Wilson. If there was any hope the story was true, Devlin was determined to find the answer and Pacal wanted to be there when he did.
It took several years to work his way into Devlin’s service and he used those years to his advantage, seeking the answers on his own. Devlin, a gracious man, had even shared with Pacal the location of the drawings. He climbed to the spot, not far from the ancient Tiahuanaco complex, and copied the drawings. One in particular was repeated more frequently than others. It was the symbol that he had fashioned onto the gold ring holding his gaze.
Pacal had never been so close to achieving his goal as when Devlin discovered the Master Stone. For on the stone, the creators depicted each of the six stones and their purpose. They demonstrated how each was used and showed an image of a map that highlighted where to find caches of the Stones hidden around the world.
But to Pacal’s frustration, Devlin became very protective of the Master Stone after discovering Pacal viewing it one evening without permission in the barn office. After that, Devlin took to hiding the Port Stone and that meant Pacal had no way to find the Seed Stones, or the rare Black Earth, on his own.
But while working at his desk in the barn office, he observed Devlin making a map. He didn’t know how he’d been able to lift the image off the Stone; Devlin wouldn’t discuss the matter. But when he saw Devlin inserting symbols on the map, he knew why. He was going a
fter the Stones. And that would not do. No, it decidedly would not. Devlin would not rob him of his dream…Pacal would make certain of that.
XVII
THE MASTER STONE
Pebbles awoke early as the birds greeting dawn stirred her from a deep sleep. She extended a hand from beneath the covers to gingerly touch the sore knot hiding underneath her bangs. Her eyes fluttered open and closed again, her mind trying to recall coming to bed. Shifting under the blanket, Pebbles realized she was dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Then she remembered sobbing and running off after her exchange with Jennifer. She mumbled, “Ugh, how mortifying.”
Despite her embarrassment, however, Pebbles acknowledged the time alone in Devlin’s dark meadow had helped her reach a decision. Jennifer was right, it was time to talk with Anlon. In fact, it would feel good to finally get it out in the open. Pebbles had not discussed that fateful night with anyone other than the psychiatrist since leaving the rehabilitation facility. Though her bones mended and bruises faded, the mental and emotional damage had lingered for too long.
Lifting her wrist to view the huddled angel and underlying scar, Pebbles rubbed along the raised line and shut her eyes again. She ached to shed the long shadow cast by the haunting memories.
Stretching her arms above her head while yawning broadly, Pebbles opened her eyes and peered around the room. She caught sight of a square pink box on the nightstand by her head. Curious, she propped herself up on her elbows and tried to focus her sleepy gaze on the box. There was a folded note atop the box. She reached for it and collapsed her head back on the pillow. Holding the note above her face, she flipped it open. It was from Anlon and read:
“Hey sleepy head. Hope you are feeling better this morning, didn’t want to intrude last night. Thought you might be hungry when you wake up. I made sure to get you three chocolate-glazed It’s a new day young lady, see you when you’re up and ready to get at it! xo AC.”
Pebbles’ face bloomed with delight. She held the note against her chest and gave silent, reverent thanks for Anlon…and the doughnuts.
Jennifer lightly tapped on the screen door of the back porch. From inside, she heard a chair scrape on the stone kitchen floor. Anlon appeared at the door and whispered, “Come on in, Pebbles is still asleep.”
The aroma of cinnamon and coffee filled the room. Jennifer inhaled deeply and said, “Mmmm…what are you having? It smells heavenly.”
Anlon pointed to a plate with two huge cinnamon rolls and answered, “Went into town, got the first batch out this morning. Go for it!”
“God, I’d love to, but I just ran four miles. I’d put twice what I tried to burn back on,” she bemoaned.
Anlon crooked a suspicious eye up and down Jennifer’s sleek physique and said, “Having a hard time buying that. Besides, no one says you have to eat the whole thing. And I promise not to tell a soul.”
Jennifer punched him in the arm while laughing, “You’re evil!”
But she accepted the plate Anlon handed her, peeled away the outer curl of the bun and bit appreciatively into the warm, soft pastry, allowing the crusty sugar and cinnamon coating to melt on her tongue. Anlon poured her a cup of coffee and said, “I don’t know why, but I’m really nervous.”
Chewing slowly to extract all the flavor, Jennifer simply nodded in agreement. She had butterflies too, but the nostalgic aromas and tastes were chasing them away.
She sipped the coffee and asked, “How is she?”
Anlon leaned forward, his elbows against the table surface, and said, “I think she’ll be okay. She’s tough as they come.”
Jennifer peeled another strip of roll and looked quizzically at Anlon. She realized Anlon thought her question was in reference to Pebbles’ head injury. Her inquiry was really meant to elicit whether Pebbles had talked with him about her past last night. Jennifer decided not to press the matter, as she had promised Pebbles not to reveal anything to Anlon.
Above, they heard floorboards creak. Pebbles was awake and moving about. Anlon said, “Come on, let’s go get the stones out of the safe and set up in the den.”
About 10 minutes later, Pebbles entered the den dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, sweatpants and socks. She smiled cautiously at the two of them as she slinked onto an armchair and curled up. She said, “Hey.”
Anlon replied, “Hey, back atcha. Coffee?”
She nodded yes and Jennifer disappeared into the kitchen to pour her a cup. While she was away, Anlon asked, “Did you find the doughnuts?”
Pebbles smiled and whispered, “All gone!”
Jennifer returned and handed the cup to Pebbles, saying, “Here you go, it tastes wonderful. Apparently he makes coffee. Who knew?”
“No, that’s not true,” Anlon confessed. “The bakery makes good coffee. I just poured it in the urn when I got back.”
Pebbles smiled softly. She felt awkward this morning, exposed, knowing Jennifer knew her secret now. And from his note, Anlon was surely aware something was wrong. He and Jennifer were trying a little too hard to exhibit an “all is well” vibe to lessen her uneasiness, but it just made her feel more out of place. She said, “You guys can stop with the velvet gloves. I’m okay. Last night was last night. Today is today. Now, let’s finally watch these damn stones!”
Her exhortation broke the tension, although Anlon shot a puzzled look at Jennifer, who intentionally avoided his gaze. She cleared her throat and said, “Anlon, you should go first. Devlin left the Stones for you.”
Anlon replied, “I won’t fight you on that!”
He reached for the Master Stone, again observing the center, sun-like circle and the six evenly spaced rays that surrounded the circle. At the end of each ray was an etched design. Anlon focused on each design in clockwise order, starting with the fish symbol at the nine o’clock position in relation to the sun pictograph. This same design appeared on the gold coins Jennifer and Pebbles discovered the day before.
The next symbol, at roughly the eleven o’clock position, resembled a plant sprig with a bud near the base and an open leaf or flower at its tip. He recalled Pebbles saying this symbol was etched on the face of Pacal’s ring.
Moving his gaze to one o’clock on the Master Stone, the next design had the appearance of waves; three squiggly lines layered atop one another. This symbol was followed at the three o’clock orientation by a star-like image, and then at five o’clock by two open hands cupped together. The final remaining symbol, at a bearing of seven o’clock, was an offset square image that reminded Anlon of a rhombus.
Anlon flipped the Master Stone over so the back of the square black rock faced him. He motioned to Pebbles to hand him the Port Stone. As he maneuvered the Port Stone towards the center depression on the back of the Master Stone, both began to vibrate in Anlon’s hands. When the two stones moved within six inches of each other, they suddenly snapped together with a loud clap, startling all three of them and nearly causing Anlon to drop the fused stones onto the floor.
Anlon darted a tense glance at Jennifer and Pebbles as he tried to calm himself. “Wasn’t expecting that!”
He took a deep breath and flipped the Master Stone over to view its face again. Gingerly, Anlon inched his fingers down the stone to the arced depressions on the opposing back sides of the Master Stone, recalling Pacal’s primer on how to activate the stone’s contents. As soon as they slid into place, his fingers began to feel a buzz and, out of nowhere, video-like images leapt into Anlon’s mind.
He stood and shouted, “Oh my God, can you two see this?”
Pebbles uncurled in the chair and perched on its edge, her face alight with curious wonder. “I don’t see anything! What are you seeing.”
“It’s incredible!” he cried out. “It’s almost like I’m not here but inside the video. It reminds me of a holograph or virtual reality.”
Anlon stood in a sunlit, open air hall of white marble pillars. Between the pillars, tall sheer drapes fluttered in a light breeze. Anlon was astounded — he felt the breez
e upon his face and the sound of the fabric flapping in his ears. How is this possible, he wondered?
He detected motion to the right of his view and rotated his eyes in that direction. Into the hall stepped four men and one woman, their sandal-covered feet tapping on the marble floor as they approached. Bronzed skin, golden haired and draped with sandy colored tunics edged in crimson, the five entrants walked towards Anlon with expressions of welcome upon their faces. A floral scent met Anlon’s nose.
The woman spoke first. Anlon staggered backwards and unintentionally collapsed onto Devlin’s couch. Her voice was crisp and inviting, though Anlon did not understand the language she spoke. Her eyes glinted with penetrating confidence, a look that struck Anlon as if she were saying, “trust me.” She reached out and placed a hand on Anlon’s…and he freaked.
Releasing the Master Stone onto the floor, the Port Stone separated and rolled away. Anlon closed his eyes, slumped over on the sofa and uttered a stupefied cry, “My God!”
Jennifer and Pebbles, chills running rampantly along their tensed necks and arms, watched with confusion and alarm at Anlon’s writhing movements and facial expressions during his initial session with the stone. His eyes widened and shot from side to side, his brow perspired, he mumbled unintelligible words and his limbs twitched in spasms. When he dropped the stones, Pebbles vaulted out of the chair and screamed, “Anlon! What’s happening? Are you okay?”
Jennifer rushed forward and grabbed Anlon’s quivering hand in an instinctual gesture to reassure him. She softly spoke, “It’s alright Anlon. Take deep breaths. That’s right, long and slow. Just relax.”
She turned to Pebbles and said in a hushed tone, “He’s in shock. Can you get some water for him?”
Anlon was dizzy, unable to concentrate his senses for nearly a minute. By the time Pebbles returned with a glass of water, the haze obscuring his vision and the muffled ringing in his ears were fading. When his eyes finally cleared, he realized he was lying on the sofa with two very concerned faces peering down upon him. He still could not speak, too overwhelmed to communicate.
Shadows of the Stone Benders (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 1) Page 21
