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Rise of the Goddess (****All proceeds from the Rise of the Goddess anthology will go to benefit the Elliott Public Library**** Book 1)

Page 24

by Catherine Stovall


  “I buried them,” Jacob cried.

  Ciro’s face turned purple with rage and the veins in his temples stuck out like ropes. He roared and shook Jacob hard enough to make him want to throw up. Dropping him again, Ciro attached a safety harness to himself and hauled open the cargo door. He reached down and grabbed Jacob by a handful of clothing, twisting around his neck.

  “Where are they? Tell The Ciro, or I drop you and you learn to fly. Or not.” Ciro leaned him out through the door.

  The wind howled past Jacob’s face. “Don’t! Don’t, if you kill me I can’t get them back.” Jacob screamed to be heard and grabbed for purchase on Ciro’s arm, but the arm was slick with sweat. Ciro’s torso was bare of clothing and Jacob could not gain a hold. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, please, give me a chance.” Jacob’s plea was to the Goddess not to the man who held him over an abyss. Ciro’s face was merciless as he shoved and loosened the fingers around Jacob’s bunched up coat. Jacob fell back into the sky, screaming. The wind sucked the sounds away.

  *****

  “Jacob? Jacob? Come back now. Jacob?” Meg was leaning over him when his eyes opened, but for a moment she looked like someone else. “Your monitors have been beeping like crazy. What were you dreaming about to send your blood pressure up like that?”

  “I was remembering, not dreaming.” Jacob gasped and became aware of the shivering of his body and the warmth of Meg’s hand holding his. “I have to find some things and don’t know how. Did I have a notebook in my coat?”

  He tried to sit up, but Meg held him down with a surprisingly strong hand. “Stay quiet and I will look for you. You didn’t have a wallet, but let me see.” She opened the small wardrobe in the room and began to feel in his coat pockets. A battered notebook with a broken string dangling from it was in the inside pocket. She handed it to him and he felt himself relax. “What’s in it?”

  “A whole lot of things, but most importantly, there are geographical locations.” He picked up the string and looked at the broken end. “I will miss that little pencil; it was a good friend of mine.” Jacob shrugged and looked up at the puzzled face of Meg. “Sorry, being silly. I went on a trek through a jungle, up a bit of a hill, and my phone died after a few days, so I had to resort to good old handwritten notes. The string used to have a pencil attached.” He smiled and lifted the string for her to see and she laughed at him.

  “How about you get some sleep and read your notes tomorrow. I’ll see you for lunch.”

  “It’s a date.” He called after her departing back and her laughter floated into the room behind her.

  *****

  “The Ciro threw the fool out of the plane,” Ciro thumped his chest.

  “The Ciro is either an ape or an idiot, which is it Ciro? I would appreciate that you not use the third person when describing yourself, it is so irritating and shows you for the fool you are.” The man behind the enormous polished wood desk toyed with a small ornament, turning it slowly one way and another.

  Ciro did not answer.

  “I ask you to do a task and all you needed to bring me were four small items from an immense haul that you can do with as you wish. And you throw away the one person who could assist you to return those items to me. Ciro, Ciro, Ciro, whatever am I going to do with you?”

  Ciro shuffled his feet on the luxurious carpet beneath them.

  “Ciro step off the rug, there’s a good lad.” The man flicked his fingers at Ciro who quickly shifted onto the gleaming wooden floorboards. “Now, the young man you threw out of the aeroplane was of immeasurable value to me. I read his thesis, a very good paper. He studied the information I needed to help find that temple. Not one in a thousand archaeologists could read that parchment and fewer still would be as gullible and naïve enough to fall for the lure of such an ideological prize. The dream of every archaeology student, find an untouched lost temple.”

  The man behind the desk spoke as if to himself rather than Ciro, who fidgeted from foot to foot and kept putting his hands in his pockets and pulling them out again. “The parchment by itself was worthless without someone to read it. I picked it up for a song, you know, hardly more than quarter of a million for it, and so many hints about it in the books.” His voice dropped on the last few words to a wistful dreamy tone and he swung his chair around to survey his book shelves.

  He stood up, and the fine mahogany-hued leather crackled softly as it remoulded itself. The man picked up a book from a pile of open tomes bound in leather and vellum. He ran a finely groomed finger down the page. “It’s the goddess I want. I need that statue and the ring. I need those things, Ciro.” The man swung his head up and pinned Ciro with a look that was neither vague and dreamy, nor distant. “I am not a forgiving man, Ciro, but I will let you redeem your usefulness to me because you are family, after all. Make sure that boy is actually dead.”

  “He fell from a plane; weeks ago,” Ciro sputtered and held his hands out, shrugging his shoulders up around his ears.

  “Nevertheless, you will check if he is alive or not. It may not be too late. You have twenty four hours to find him, dead or alive. If he doesn’t know about the offerings…” The man turned away and picked up another book another. Flipping pages, he became aware that Ciro still stood on the polished floor boards and frowned, “A day, Ciro, you have a day. Why are you still standing here?”

  *****

  “Meg, would you go out to dinner with me?” Jacob snapped a flower from the camellia bush and handed it to her. Meg looked sadly at the flower in his hand and did not take it from him.

  “Jacob, I prefer flowers that are living. You give me a dead thing when you pluck a flower and deprive the plant of a part of its life cycle.” She looked at his stricken face and took the offending twig, “Here, I will replant it and maybe it will take.”

  Squatting beside the garden bed, she cleared a small patch of ground and planted the piece, after removing the flower petals and some of the leaves. She patted the earth around it and seemed to be singing something almost too quiet for Jacob to hear. He enjoyed the sound of her voice; it made him feel alive and full of energy. She wiped her hands on some leaf mulch and stood up, curled her arm around his and resumed their walk around the garden courtyard in the centre of the hospital.

  “Now where are you planning to take me for dinner, and am I going to pay for it or do you remember your last name and bank details?” She lifted her eyebrows in query over her twinkling eyes and Jacob felt his embarrassment over the flower melt away only to be replaced with further embarrassment at his inability to take this woman on a date. Meg distracted him “Do you even know what city you are in? You did arrive in an unusual manner and so might not know where the best restaurants are.”

  “Meg, you are laughing at me, but I don’t care, your laughter makes my embarrassment bearable, even wonderful. What city am I in then and where is the best restaurant, now that you mention it? And I don’t—”

  Jacob stopped in his tracks as a flood of memory filled the empty, echoing spaces of his mind, “…archaeologist. I’m an archaeologist and I did something terrible. Meg, I did something so stupid and unforgivable. I need to make it right,” Jacob groaned and folded on to a seat in the garden. He pressed his face into his hands. “I will never make it right enough,” he mumbled into his palms in a voice filled with despair.

  “Oh, I think you will, Jacob. You simply have to believe in yourself. Come on, stop that wallowing in self-pity. Stand up and be a man.”

  He looked up at the steely note in her voice, it reminded him of something. He tried to grasp the memory but it evaded him.

  “You have an appointment with Marcus. If he gives you the all clear, the doctor will let you out of here today, and you can go fix what you think you messed up.” She began to walk back toward the sliding doors and he had to skip to catch her.

  Behind them in the garden, the small cutting pushed out a pale green bud and soft moss cushioned the recently patted earth.

  *****
/>   Jacob had flown to his own home city and reassessed his life. He felt strangely bereft leaving Meg and Marcus behind, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. He needed to find the statue and ring. He began to pack what he would need to climb the mountain again, at the same time worrying he would not be fit enough to do it and checking his bank account to see if he could charter a flight. A knock on his door startled him. He opened the door and stood frozen with fear.

  “Mr Childe, may we come in for a moment?” The smooth voice of the man in the hallway outside Jacob’s door was well modulated with educated overtones. He wore a three piece suit in steel grey, matt black shoes and a pale blue tie against a crisp white shirt, a matching pale blue handkerchief peeped neatly from a chest pocket and an absurdly old fashioned set of silver cufflinks with blue stones embedded in the metal, adorned the sleeves of the shirt. The man oozed patience, holding his right hand over his left in front of him, seemingly casual in his wait for Jacob to respond.

  Jacob looked from the man in the suit to the beefier, taller Ciro, looming behind like a giant hairless deadly ape. Jacob swallowed and tensed to slam the door, but the man in the suit stepped forward in a smooth motion, preventing the door from closing.

  “I believe, Mr. Childe, that you mislaid some items from the recent collection you were hired to find, and I would appreciate your help in being reunited with my property.”

  Jacob backed up, frantically searching for an escape route and knowing the only way out was blocked by Ciro and the window opened on a seven-story drop to the pavement below.

  “It would be such a pity after all the fine medical work to patch you back together, if you had another attempt at flying. Please sit down, Mr. Childe.” Jacob sat in his own arm chair and Ciro closed the door. The man in the suit took a seat in the chair opposite. “Ciro here tells me you buried a little statue and a ring. Did you protect the items from weather?”

  Jacob nodded.

  “I read your thesis, I was impressed. It led me to choose you above all others for this expedition. I can see how you must have been devastated by the methodology of Ciro’s people.”

  “They were thugs, morons, they didn’t record a thing, they didn’t know the value of what they were throwing around. Morons, the historical value alone was beyond price.” Jacob’s outrage burst past his fear.

  “Quite. I believe they paid the ultimate price for their stupidity, but you don’t have to.” The man leaned his elbows on the arm rests and steepled his fingers in a thoughtful gesture. “So you know the value of the statue then?”

  Jacob sat back with a sick look on his face as he recalled the price those men had paid. “Of course, it was the focus of the entire temple. It was obviously the deity avatar for what could only be a shrine or temple for a Goddess. Historically…”

  The man in the suit held up one hand to stem Jacob’s flow. “Please, Jacob. May I call you Jacob? I would love to hear your opinion some time, you are a very promising archaeologist, but right now, I am interested specifically in the statue. Not the greater historical meaning of the temple. Do you have any idea of the value of the statue?”

  “I would estimate several million at least, if it ever hit the market, but that is only money.”

  “I see, so you have no idea then.” The man’s voice sounded thoughtful, “You have no idea about the connection between the ring, the papyrus scrolls and the statue?”

  “I assume they are all connected, since they are all from the same place and together will reveal valuable information about the temple and the people who worshipped there. How did you come by the first papyrus?”

  “I deal in antiquities, very specific antiquities, and I purchased that scroll in a private auction. I had clues from various books that it would lead me to the temple, but I needed someone of your talents to actually decipher the messages. So back to business, I need those items and I am willing to overlook your recent foolishness if you will return them to me.”

  He looked around the room and back to Jacob, “I see you were packing? Ciro will take you to a plane and you can both return to the scene of your crime, so to speak.”

  The man stood up and waited with that air of patience for Jacob to stand. Another knock at the door had all three men abruptly turning. Ciro opened it and Jacob’s mouth dropped open. Meg and Marcus stood in the hallway dressed for hiking. Meg looked up and up at Ciro, then across at the man in the suit, finally her gaze settled on Jacob and she smiled.

  “Hi Jacob are we in time? You didn’t tell us we were going with a whole party. Marcus did he tell us we would be going with other people?” Marcus shook his head. “I’m Meg, this is Marcus, friends of Jacob.” Meg did not extend her hand or move closer to the other men as she and Marcus came to stand beside Jacob. “We were going on a camping trip to celebrate his recovery. Are you coming with us?”

  Ciro looked Meg up and down and leered but the man in the suit frowned speculatively.

  “Book man is coming with The Ciro. You go home.”

  “You ape man, me Jane?” Meg mocked, widening her eyes and mimicking Ciro’s tone.

  Jacob moved slightly in front of Meg and Marcus took a step forward. Ciro’s face began to darken and the merest smirk curled the lips of the man in the suit, but he raised a palm toward Ciro to halt his imminent rush forward.

  “Mr. Childe was just telling us about his plans to go hiking Miss…” Meg gave no response and the man in the suit bowed his head slightly to her before continuing, “…and it so happens Ciro here is flying up that way, and has offered to take him to his destination. It is no trouble to take extras along. I was going away on business, but I think I will join you. I haven’t been on a good jungle hike in far too long. Shall we?”

  “No, Meg, Marcus, I’m sorry you will have to come on another hike. This one is too, um, dangerous.”

  “Jacob, Marcus and I have our hearts set on coming with you, so you can’t talk us out of it. Look, I even have cute new hiking boots.” Meg stuck out her foot just as Ciro walked past and he stumbled over it. “Oops, silly me. Come on, we can get there sooner in a plane. I’ve never been on an aeroplane before, how exciting.”

  She walked out the door, ignoring the angry look from Ciro and Jacob’s protests as she picked up a seemingly lightweight pack in the corridor. Marcus hauled a second one onto his shoulders, and they waited at the top of the stairs for Jacob.

  “We might as well save our strength and take the lift with the packs.” Jacob walked past them and led the way to the lift doors.

  “Modern technology is so exciting, but it does make me feel a little lazy.” Meg stepped in and patted Jacob’s cheek on the way past. The door slid shut as Ciro arrived. “Well he did need the exercise.”

  *****

  “How often do you shit, book man?” Ciro snarled as he dug up the soil at the third set of coordinates.

  “Daily. My bowels are regular and healthy because I eat healthily. Meat blocks the flow if you eat it with other things.”

  Meg was giggling into her hand as Ciro turned the soil, donned latex gloves too small for his large hands and started breaking up the now crumbling body waste.

  “Nothing in this one either.” Ciro threw the latex gloves in the hole and covered them with soil before folding up the small shovel and attaching it to his backpack. “Nick, why does The Ciro have to go through his shit?”

  “A thousand times I tell you and a thousand times you forget. Nicholas not Nick, we are not children. Ciro you must do the search to prevent Mr. Childe from accidently retaining goods to which he is not entitled. Now what did I tell you about third person pronoun and what is my name?” The man stared at Ciro who tucked his big chin into his neck and hunched his shoulders; a great hulking parody of a sulking child.

  “Not to do it, Nicholas.” He mumbled.

  Nicholas patted his forearm and strode into the greenery. “Come along then, on to the next excrement. Where to, Mr. Childe?” his voice floated back to the others.

 
; Jacob consulted his notebook. The trail was thick with new growth that had quickly sprung up in the relatively short time since they had last been there. Meg walked between Jacob and Marcus. She and Marcus seemed totally at ease in the jungle, moving with grace and good health, both cheerily chatting to Jacob, supporting him when his own energy flagged and curling up with him at night to share body warmth.

  He had not thought two medical persons would be so readily at home in such an environment and had not fully believed their explanation that they had both decided to take annual holidays and come visit him. Marcus, for the most part, hovered near Meg or kept a watch for anything dangerous in their path when he wasn’t cheering Jacob along. Meg instructed Jacob on the names of plants and their uses in medicine and cosmetics or food. She was a wealth of knowledge and told him she preferred natural remedies to pharmaceuticals.

  Nicholas had spent much of his time and energy trying to engage Meg in conversation, which she pointedly ignored or evaded directly answering.

  “When did you meet Jacob?” he asked during a rest break.

  Meg looked into the canopy, but eventually turned her head in his direction without actually looking at him. “We’ve known Jacob for a long time, since before his accident.”

  “It was lucky you were working in the same hospital he was taken to then.”

  “Yes.” Meg got up and wandered into the trees. Nicholas looked frustrated.

  Marcus leaned into Jacob as they stood up to leave. “Don’t contradict what she says,” he whispered.

  Nicholas was no longer wearing his suit; instead he had on a white, long-sleeved, lightweight, cotton shirt, lightweight, cotton khaki trousers with elasticised ankles and hiking shoes. He wore a sturdy hat that looked like he wore it a lot and used a hiking stick.

  Ciro in contrast looked like Rambo as he hoisted a massive backpack over his shoulders as they set off again, he had thrashed about in the trees and thudded along the track. They stopped each day and Ciro dug up the waste, checking for the small items Jacob had swallowed. He found nothing until they were two days hike from the temple.

 

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