“Bring a hat if you have one,” Alma called after him. “For the sun.”
The three watched his retreat in silence.
Once the doors shut again, the scout turned to Griffin. “He’s the one you told me about? A Nephilim?”
The Scrivener nodded.
“Poor guy,” Cassie murmured sympathetically. “I guess he wanted to show that he knows how to blend in with the Fallen but it backfired.”
Alma shook her head ominously. “A bad idea to partner with demons.”
“He’s different,” the Pythia interjected. “Daniel’s been sort of an ally.”
The scout seemed unconvinced of his trustworthiness. “How much does he know about the Arkana?”
“He knows what our mission is,” the Scrivener explained. “He agreed to help us find the Sage Stone. We’re sharing relevant facts related to the search. However, I would caution you to avoid disclosing details about our organizational structure—how many agents we have, the location of the troves, and so forth.”
“Understood,” Alma affirmed. “But are you sure you can trust him?”
“As far as the recovery of the artifact goes, yes,” Cassie said. “Beyond that...” She shrugged. “Who knows?”
The elevator doors parted again and Daniel rushed out. As instructed, he’d donned hiking shoes, shorts, a T-shirt and a floppy hat. He was also carrying a backpack. “I brought extra water just in case.”
“That was thoughtful,” Alma admitted grudgingly. “My truck is right outside.”
They exited the hotel to find a dust-covered late-model SUV pulled up to the curb.
Cassie dumped her now-empty coffee cup into a waste bin and walked up to the right front door.
Alma paused beside her, a puzzled expression on her face. “Did you want to drive? It’s alright with me if you do.”
The Pythia squinted at her blankly until she noticed a steering wheel on what should be the passenger side. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot about right-hand drive here.” She scampered around to the other side of the vehicle.
Alma unlocked the doors and slid behind the wheel. Cassie claimed the seat beside her while the two men climbed into the back.
As the scout maneuvered them deftly through city traffic, the Pythia studied the town whizzing past her window. She’d read a bit about the area when they arrived. Darwin was a young city of bright colors and modern high rises. Unlike many of the towns she’d visited in her travels, it had no architectural history. As the capital of the Northern Territory, it was the region’s largest population center. However, that population only consisted of 136,000 inhabitants. Its extreme northern location meant that Darwin was geographically closer to the capitals of several other countries in the South Pacific than it was to its own capital of Sydney.
Alma’s voice interrupted the Pythia’s reverie. “It’s a long drive to Arnhem Land. About three hours. That’s why we needed to get an early start if we want to make it back before sunset.”
Daniel sat forward. “I’m sorry but I didn’t think to ask about the specifics of our destination. What exactly is Arnhem Land?”
“One of the most beautiful landscapes in all of Australia,” Alma said over her shoulder. “Of course, I might be biased. The whole region is owned by local tribes so outsiders need a permit to visit. I’ve already arranged all that. Lucky you’re here in the dry season. The rest of the year, the rivers are too high to cross. There’s no way in but to fly.”
“Sounds like a real frontier,” Cassie observed.
“You can drive for hours without meeting another soul,” the scout agreed wistfully.
They lapsed into silence while Alma navigated them through the last of the suburbs. These dwindled to the occasional lone house and then none at all. Eventually, their guide slowed the vehicle when they approached a sign reading “Kakadu National Park.”
“Kakadu merits a trip of its own but we’ll just see it in passing since the Arnhem Highway cuts right through the park.” Alma sped up once more. “Kakadu has a very interesting eco-system. You’ll find everything here from wetlands to rivers to waterfalls to cliffs to forests. Not to mention the wildlife.” She slowed briefly and peered through the trees to the right of the car. “There. Do you see it? It’s a brumbie.”
They all craned their necks to look where she was pointing.
“It might help if we knew what a brumbie is,” Cassie said.
“Oh, sorry. A brumbie is a feral horse. You’ll find them all over the Top End.”
“Like a wild mustang,” the Pythia offered.
“Yes, that’s right. Can you see it now?”
Cassie spied a swift white form darting through the trees a quarter mile off. “There it is. Guys?”
Griffin and Daniel both shook their heads.
Alma accelerated again. As she drove, she pointed out rock formations, roads leading off to various scenic features of the park, and the occasional rare bird species.
“This is all very interesting,” Daniel said, “But I still don’t know why we’re going to Arnhem Land today. What’s there that we need to see?”
“Injalak Hill,” Griffin replied. “It’s one of the oldest rock art sites in the world. The hill has been used for millennia as a shelter and traditional ceremonial center.”
“It’s also where we might find a Minoan lily,” Cassie said. She cringed inwardly at the lie. Maddie had suggested they concoct a story to lure Daniel to Australia. Hopefully, this detour would give the team at the Vault a head start in finding the real location of the Sage Stone.
The Scrivener elaborated. “We came across an obscure reference in a field agent’s journal dating from a hundred years ago. The journal made mention of a curious lily carving at Injalak Hill which didn’t fit the local rock painting at all.”
“I’ve scoured that hill over the course of a lifetime and I’ve never seen a lily carving there.” Alma’s tone was doubtful.
Cassie winced. Maddie had instructed them not to involve Alma in the hoax. They weren’t just conning Daniel. They were lying to one of their own agents as well. Even though the Chatelaine believed it was safer to keep Alma out of the loop, the whole scenario didn’t sit well with Cassie. She stifled her own misgivings and responded to the scout’s comment with another lie. “That’s where I come in. Maybe my Pythia senses can find that elusive lily.”
“So you use divination to locate artifacts,” Daniel observed in a low voice. During their lengthy plane ride, Griffin had already briefed him as to a Pythia’s function. “The Nephilim would consider your practices to be demonic.”
“Rubbish!” Alma gave a snort of derision. “Psychometry is a gift of the goddess.”
“We’ve been quite successful in locating the other Minoan relics by using Cassie’s special talent,” the Scrivener pointed out. “If not, we wouldn’t be in possession of the labrys key now, you would.”
Daniel shrugged. “I don’t necessarily follow all the beliefs of my people. I’m willing to keep an open mind.” Apparently sensing that he had offended the rest of the group with his thoughtless remark, the Scion lapsed into silence.
They traveled without incident for another half hour while Alma gave a running commentary on the features of the park. Then, mid-sentence and without warning, she slapped on the brakes.
The men in the back seat lurched forward. Cassie braced her arms against the dashboard.
“What is it?” Griffin asked in alarm.
“Let’s just sit here for a while and see what that big fellow intends to do,” the scout said.
They all stared through the windshield. Right in the middle of the road about fifty feet away, an enormous bull water buffalo blocked their path. His horns curved majestically backward like a pair of airborne wings as he placidly studied the vehicle.
“The herds tend to stay around the Yellow Water marshlands,” Alma murmured. “Not sure why he’s wandered this far afield.”
“We saw a lot of water buffalo in Sumatra,” Cassie
volunteered. “They were domesticated and people kept them like cattle.”
“These are different,” the scout countered. “They’re wild, bad-tempered, and very fierce.”
“How did they get here?” Daniel’s voice held a tremor.
“Brought over in the nineteenth century to supply meat for European colonists. Eventually that scheme was abandoned and the animals that remained escaped to the outback. The government has tried culling them but their numbers are up again. They’re bad for the eco-system but the tribes like them because they make good bush tucker.”
“Bush tucker?” the Scion echoed.
“Food,” Alma replied bluntly. “Whatever your average gatherer-hunter can find to eat.”
“This guy doesn’t look like he’s ready to be turned into prime rib.” Cassie eyed the huge beast warily.
The water buffalo continued to size up the SUV. His rope of a tail swished back and forth in an agitated fashion while he pondered the situation. Nostrils flaring, he tipped up his nose, analyzing the vehicle’s scent.
Alma’s hand hovered over the gearshift, ready to throw the truck into reverse if he charged.
The bull snorted once, turning his head dismissively to the side. Then he ambled across the road and off into a grove of trees.
Their guide floored the gas pedal and the truck jerked forward before the beast had a chance to change his mind.
Alma’s passengers were too shocked to speak for several minutes.
When they’d all recovered themselves, Griffin exhaled with relief. “Quite a perilous country you have here.”
“And you haven’t even seen the crocs yet.” The scout chuckled.
“Given a choice, I’d prefer not to make their acquaintance.”
Cassie glanced at the clock on the SUV’s dashboard. They’d been traveling for over two hours which meant they must be closing in on their destination.
Daniel abruptly spoke up. “Going back to our search for the Minoan lily, I can’t help but think it’s highly unlikely we would find it in this outlandish place. After all, Australia was only discovered by Captain James Cook in 1770.”
“Hmmph!” The scout sniffed. “Overlord history at its finest!”
Daniel hesitated, apparently remembering the in-flight lecture Griffin had given him on overlords.
Cassie swiveled in her seat to regard the Scion dispassionately. “You got that bit of trivia while you were at the public library?”
“Public libraries.” Alma eyed the Nephilim grimly in the rearview mirror. “If you want to learn all about overlord methods of domination, subjugation, and exploitation, by all means consult your public library books.”
In a somewhat more tactful tone, Griffin interceded. “Actually, Daniel, the ancients were well aware of Australia’s existence. The Phoenicians, Egyptians, Israelites, and Greeks all sent trading expeditions here. The continent appears on their maps as the land of Ophir. Without a doubt, the Minoans were aware of it too.”
Their guide picked up the thread. “There’s archaeological evidence of a Phoenician mining colony near Sarina in Queensland dating from around 1000 BCE and it’s not the only one. Egyptian and Phoenician artifacts have been found in other parts of the country as well. Of course, it’s a touchy subject for the government. They don’t want to upset traditional cultures by poking around in those areas.”
“It’s like the kerfuffle in America over nine-thousand year old Caucasian mummies being found on tribal lands. It puts a crimp into the whole ‘First Peoples’ argument,” Cassie observed. “Very politically incorrect.”
Daniel stared at her open-mouthed. “Nine-thousand-year-old...” he trailed off.
“You won’t find that in your overlord history books,” Alma said. “Overlord contamination of Australia began much earlier than the eighteenth century. Thankfully, tribal culture is still heavily matristic.” She paused and turned to Cassie. “Does your Nephilim friend know what ‘matristic’ means?”
“He got a crash course on the plane,” the Pythia murmured.
Alma nodded and continued. “Male dominance was not initially a part of aboriginal culture though it’s easy to see how it seeped in. The Phoenicians, Egyptians, Israelites, and Greeks were all overlord societies. The taint of their influence would have altered tribal behavior to some degree, at least for those in coastal regions. In later centuries, Melanesians, Indonesians, Tamils from India, and Arabs all came to Australia’s shores to fish or to trade. The seal hunters and whalers came to kill sea mammals and to abduct women. The continent was never the isolated landscape mainstream historians like to paint. Even some traditional aboriginal myths speak of culture heroes called the Uru who came from across the sea. They were megalith-builders who brought inventions with them to help civilize the land. They are described as tall, pale-skinned and blue-eyed.”
“Europeans?” Daniel asked incredulously.
“Far older than that,” Alma countered.
“There’s been no conclusive evidence of the existence of Atlantis,” Griffin piped up. “However, I’m willing to entertain the notion of a sophisticated culture which erected megaliths on every continent. Many mythologies tell stories of such beings. The feathered serpent Quetzalcoatl of the Mesoamericans is only one example. Perhaps these megalith-builders—Atlantean, Lemurian, or what have you—were wiped out in a global catastrophe but left behind a memory woven into tribal myths all around the world.”
The conversation ceased abruptly when Alma slowed the car to an idle. “We’re almost there,” she explained. “Just ahead is Cahill’s Crossing. It spans the East Alligator River.”
“Alligator?” Cassie echoed. “There aren’t any alligators in Australia.”
“A mistake made by the English bloke who named the bloody thing.” Alma focused her attention on the churning froth ahead of them and nodded approvingly. “It looks as if we hit it at low tide.”
Her passengers collectively drew in a sharp breath.
“But there’s no road,” Cassie protested. “You’re going to drive us across the top of a small waterfall.”
Unconcerned, Alma replied, “You should see it in the rainy season. Of course by then nobody tries to drive through. The water can reach two meters.”
“That’s six feet,” Griffin chimed in helpfully.
“There actually is a road underneath all that current,” the scout insisted. She treated them to a mischievous smile as she eased the truck forward. “Here we go. Keep your hands inside the truck and mind the salties.”
Chapter 8—Dumb Plan
Abraham limped through the reception area of the compound dispensary to Brother Andrew’s office at the back. The Nephilim’s resident herbalist stood perched on a stepstool taking inventory of supplies. Oblivious to the arrival of his visitor, he hummed a disjointed tune.
“Brother Andrew,” the Diviner barked.
The herbalist spun around, nearly toppling off his perch. He grabbed one of the shelves to steady himself. “F...father. I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you arrive.” He scrambled down, adjusting his glasses which had been knocked askew. Peering up at his superior, he asked, “How can I help you today?”
In wordless reproach, Abraham slammed an empty brown bottle on the herbalist’s desk before lowering himself into a chair. “I need another refill.”
Brother Andrew took a seat behind the desk and examined the bottle. “So soon, father? This should have lasted for several more days.”
“I have been under additional...” Metcalf hesitated. “Additional strain this week. I required more frequent dosing to allow me to sleep.”
The herbalist cleared his throat nervously. “As I’ve told you before, father, this medicine is very powerful. Increasing the dosage may create an unwelcome dependency—”
Metcalf cut him off. “Do you have an additional supply on hand, or not?”
Sighing, Brother Abraham rose and went to a shelf lined with brown bottles. He selected one and handed it to his leader.
&n
bsp; Pocketing the bottle, the Diviner added, “I suspect the last batch you made may have been tainted in some way.”
“Tainted!” Brother Andrew dropped into his chair in shock. “What would make you think that?”
Abraham rubbed his forehead wearily. “I’ve been seeing things out of the corner of my eye. Not like the usual visions from the Lord which this elixir imparts. Indistinct human shapes. Grey figures. If I try to look at them directly, they vanish only to reappear as if they were peeping at me from the shadows. It’s maddening.”
The herbalist gaped at him.
“And then sometimes I hear the murmur of voices. I can never make out what they’re saying. Just a rumble as if they’re arguing about something in another room but I never know what.”
Brother Andrew sighed. “This is very troubling news.”
“Obviously, you’ve made a mistake in concocting my medicine,” Abraham challenged.
“Oh no, father. That isn’t the problem. I believe it’s the amount of the tincture you’re using.” The herbalist hesitated. “In the Fallen world, this remedy has been employed for hundreds of years. Some who have taken high doses of this particular medicine have reported such...” He glanced nervously at Abraham. “Um... have reported such... visual and auditory hallucinations as you describe.”
“Hallucinations?” The Diviner echoed skeptically.
“I believe so, father.”
Abraham quailed at the prospect. The reason he’d started taking the medicine in the first place was to banish certain unpleasant apparitions, especially that of his dead daughter-in-law Annabeth. Now it appeared he was summoning even more demonic shapes to his bedside. Rather than allow the herbalist to see his fear, he quickly changed the subject. “Never mind about that,” That isn’t the reason I came to speak to you today anyway.”
“Then tell me how I can be of service,” Brother Andrew pressed, apparently relieved to be off the subject of hallucinations.
Abraham looked up at the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. “My wife Hannah hasn’t spoken a word since we rescued her.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about that.” Brother Andrew nodded. “I’m sure being exposed to the wickedness of the Fallen must have been very frightening to one so young and innocent.”
The Sage Stone Prophecy (Arkana Archaeology Adventure Series Book 7) Page 5
