The Sage Stone Prophecy (Arkana Archaeology Adventure Series Book 7)

by N. S. Wikarski

  The guard saluted. “Yes, sir.” He then trotted hastily back to his post.

  The iron gates swung open and Daniel drove up to a building that appeared to be a miniature version of the compound in Illinois. It was a square, white, two-story structure devoid of architectural embellishment. All its windows were covered by iron bars.

  Daniel exited the car and advanced up the front stairs. A portly blond man dressed in a black suit and tie scurried out to greet him.

  “I’ve just been informed of your arrival, sir.” The man clasped and unclasped his hands nervously. “I’m the archwarden of this community. Oliver Duckworth is the name.” The archwarden’s palms must have been sweating because he rubbed his hand against his pants leg before extending it to Daniel.

  “Daniel Metcalf, Scion of the Blessed Nephilim.”

  “Such an honor to have you here.” Duckworth spoke with a thick Australian accent.

  Daniel gave a cold smile and scanned the grounds. He noted the chain link fence which extended from the front gates. “Is your property entirely fenced?”

  “Yes, sir. Per the Diviner’s orders last year. Fenced and topped with razor wire.”

  Daniel flinched. At least one of the rumors had just been confirmed. He decided to venture a step further. “And what is the status of your security?”

  “Round the clock surveillance, sir.” Duckworth made the announcement proudly. “We have cameras placed at strategic locations along the fence line and throughout the common areas of the compound. Would you like to see?”

  “Yes, I would.” The Scion uttered the words with a sense of foreboding.

  “Please step this way.”

  The archwarden ushered him through the marble foyer and along a corridor, pointing out cameras as they went.

  Daniel noticed that a deathlike stillness pervaded this compound the same as in Illinois. “Very impressive. You must have had outside assistance to set this up.”

  “Mr. Bowdeen was very helpful, sir. He mapped out the locations for us and supervised the installation of all the cameras.”

  Bowdeen? Daniel racked his brain trying to figure out why that name was familiar. A chill ran down his spine when he remembered. Wasn’t Bowdeen a friend of Leroy Hunt’s? Wasn’t he the man who had tried to kill the Diviner only a month before? Hadn’t Joshua shot him?

  Duckworth was still talking and pointing as they turned down another hallway and entered a common room, now vacant.

  When they paused, Daniel asked, “And how large is your security force?”

  “Twenty men. The best of them were hand-picked for special security work and received instruction from Brother Joshua.”

  “Br... Br... Brother Joshua?” Daniel stammered. “You mean my brother Joshua?”

  The archwarden looked briefly puzzled. “Yes, I see. That’s funny, isn’t it? He is one of the brethren but he’s also your sibling. His last name is Metcalf after all. A very wise young man.”

  “How long ago was he here?”

  Duckworth paused to calculate on his fingers. “One, two. I’d say less than three months. He arrived just as Mr. Bowdeen was finishing up with weapons training for our guards.”

  “So they knew each other,” the Scion asked cautiously.

  “Oh, I should say so. Thick as thieves they were. Spent hours conferring together. Very hush-hush. I got the impression they had worked together often. That would make perfect sense since they were both tasked with setting up security at all the other compounds around the world. I think—” Duckworth stopped abruptly as another idea crossed his mind. “That reminds me. Would you please step into my office for a moment?”

  Daniel nodded and allowed himself to be led down another series of corridors until they came to a door at the end of a hall.

  Duckworth unlocked it and gestured through the open door. “Please have a seat.”

  The Scion dropped into a chair and watched as the archwarden bustled around peeping into corners, rummaging through cabinets and murmuring to himself. “Ah, yes. Here it is.” He produced a leather portfolio stamped with the name “Bowdeen” in gold leaf.

  Duckworth handed the portfolio to Daniel. “Shortly after Mr. Bowdeen returned to the United States, one of the sentries found this. He’d accidentally left it at the shooting range during the final days of training. Can you see that this is returned to him?”

  Daniel simply nodded, not wishing to inform the archwarden that Bowdeen had been shot during an abortive attempt to murder the Diviner. “I’ll see that he gets it.”

  ***

  Two hours later, the Scion steered his car back through the compound gates and onto the gravel road which led to the highway. He’d been forced to endure a grand tour of all the security features of the compound, including a visit to the surveillance command center, an inspection of the weapons training facility, and a demonstration of marksmanship by the security team. He made complimentary remarks along the way to alleviate Duckworth’s anxiety about the surprise inspection. Then he pleaded an evening appointment in Melbourne in order to avoid sharing a meal with the archwarden and his wives.

  Daniel sped up once he made the turn onto the blacktop highway. He drove about five miles away from the compound and then pulled over to the side of the road to think about what he’d learned. His worst fears had been confirmed. The rumors were true. The satellite compounds were all fitted out with the same surveillance equipment as the compound in Illinois. They were staffed with guards adept at using firearms. The worst piece of news was that his brother Joshua was deeply involved in turning these Nephilim outposts into military fortresses.

  He switched off the ignition and reached over to the passenger seat to retrieve Bowdeen’s effects. Zipping open the case, he idly leafed through the papers it contained. At first he scowled at what he found. Then he gasped outright. He couldn’t quite put it all together but an ominous theory began to take shape in his mind. Chris had once told him he had no talent for connecting the dots. That was certainly true in this instance. As soon as he got back to the States, he would get help figuring this out. Ironically, it wouldn’t be a librarian who held the answers he sought. It would be a hired killer. Only Leroy Hunt could aid him now.

  Chapter 12—Island Time

  Cassie and Griffin sauntered into Faye’s parlor at the Vault. They’d come directly from the airport, not even stopping to drop off their luggage in their respective offices.

  “Looks like you both made it back in one piece,” Maddie observed.

  “That’s a lot easier to do now that we aren’t being dogged by Nephilim assassins,” the Pythia retorted, parking her suitcase next to the door and dropping onto the couch.

  Griffin stowed his bag in a corner and took up a position by one of the faux-windows. “It all felt rather anti-climactic,” he mused. “Like a stroll in the park.”

  Cassie gave him a skeptical glance. “I hear there’s an org called Thrill Seekers Anonymous. You should check it out.” Focusing her full attention on Maddie, she asked, “Did you dig up anything that might point us to the real location of the Sage Stone?”

  “I’ll let Zach tell you. It makes him feel useful.” The Chatelaine glanced at her watch. “He ought to be here by now.”

  As if on cue, the tyro skidded to a stop in the doorway. He was out of breath when he entered, a laptop computer hooked under one arm. “Sorry.” He bobbed his head apologetically. “I needed to check some emails on Griffin’s computer.”

  “You were in my office?” The Scrivener sounded shocked.

  “I’ve been letting him use it to coordinate the research team while you were gone,” Maddie explained.

  “Did you move anything?” Griffin asked Zach suspiciously.

  “I dunno.” The tyro shrugged helplessly. “Maybe.”

  The Scrivener gave an exasperated sigh. “I do have a system, you know. It may not be obvious to anyone else, but I maintain my records in a certain order. I only hope I’ll be able to find things in their proper plac
e once I resume my regular duties.”

  Cassie interrupted his tirade. “Griffin, you can’t do two jobs on opposite sides of the planet at the same time. You’re either King of the Card Catalog or a dashing international artifact hunter. Take your pick.”

  “Well, when you put it that way.” Her comment brought him up short. “You really think I’m dashing?”

  The Pythia rolled her eyes.

  Maddie intervened. “If the kid messed anything up in your office, he’ll fix it. Right?” she glanced at Zach menacingly.

  The tyro gulped and gave a vigorous nod. “Absolutely.”

  Griffin folded his arms across his chest, unconvinced.

  The Pythia decided it was time to change the subject. “Zach, did you manage to crack any part of our riddle while we were gone?”

  The boy brightened. “Yeah. I worked with Griffin’s research team and we came up with a really good possibility.” He hesitated. “Can I sit down?”

  Cassie was about to slide to the middle of the couch when Maddie forestalled her.

  “Take the chair.” The Chatelaine gestured toward the purple armchair in the corner.

  “That’s Gamma’s seat,” the boy protested softly.

  “It’s just a piece of furniture,” Maddie countered. “We all need to stop tiptoeing around Faye’s absence and get on with business as usual. You know that’s what she’d say if she was here.”

  Zach crossed the room and sat gingerly on the very edge of the chair. Balancing the computer on his lap, he powered it up.

  “I assume we’ll be heading in a northerly direction now,” Griffin hinted.

  “Yup, way north from Australia.” Zach murmured, his attention focused on his computer. He tapped several keys and waited for the screen to refresh. Then he rose and placed the laptop on the coffee table so they could all see the result.

  Leaning forward, Cassie read the caption on the map which the screen displayed. “Sakhalin Island?”

  “Sakhalin Island,” Zach repeated. “Six hundred miles long and only sixteen miles wide at its narrowest point. With the Sea Of Japan to the southwest and the Sea Of Okhotsk to the northeast, it’s been the center of a tug of war between Russia and Japan for centuries. The Russians claimed the northern half of the island and the Japanese claimed the south. That set-up continued until the end of World War Two when Russia saw a chance to take over. Stalin’s troops invaded the southern part of the island and kicked the Japanese out altogether. Given the oil and gas reserves that were discovered there, Sakhalin has turned into a prime piece of real estate.”

  Griffin moved forward to peer down at the screen. He turned to Zach with puzzlement. “While it may hold great economic value, why did you think it would hold any value for the purposes of our artifact quest?”

  “There are a couple of reasons,” the tyro explained. “For starters, some of the island’s natives are Ainu. That’s a tribe descended from Jomon Culture.”

  “Which was matristic,” Griffin said.

  “Exactly,” Zach agreed. “Jomon Culture flourished mainly in neolithic Japan between 16000 BCE and 300 BCE. After that, the overlords from China moved in and it was goodbye golden age, hello patriarchy.”

  “Look at you,” Cassie remarked. “All grown up and spouting factoids.”

  Zach blushed self-consciously. “Everybody around here has started calling me ‘Griffin Junior’.”

  “I fail to note any resemblance,” the Scrivener remarked dryly.

  “Anyway,” Zach forged ahead. “The Ainu are descended from the Jomon and still hold onto some matristic customs. It seems pretty logical that the Minoans would look for a female-friendly culture in the north to help stash their most precious relic.”

  “Around 1000 BCE when the Minoans were visiting Asia, vestiges of matrism still remained in Korea and Japan,” Griffin objected. “They would have had no need to travel as far north as Sakhalin Island.”

  “Which brings me to another reason why we picked it,” Zach countered. “Geography. Your riddle says to go past the golden road of Boreas where his islands kill the sea. We still don’t know what the golden road means but ‘Boreas’ means that you should go north and look for islands that can kill the sea. Sakhalin Island is only separated from the mainland of Asia by four and a half miles across the Tartar Strait. The strait itself is narrow and shallow. When approached from either the south or the north, it looks like a dead-end bay where the sea dies. Early explorers were fooled into turning back the way they came, not knowing they could pass right through the channel to the other side.”

  “That’s plausible,” Griffin nodded. “The island and the strait might be said to ‘kill the sea’.”

  “But wait, there’s more,” Zach added impishly. “In the winter, the Tartar Strait freezes solid.”

  “That would kill the sea alright,” Cassie agreed.

  “Aside from which, the second line of the riddle has some connection to Sakhalin too.”

  “Which is?” the Scrivener prompted.

  “It says to follow a great river. The Amur River flows across half of Asia and empties into the Tartar Strait right across from the northern tip of Sakhalin Island.”

  “I’m sold,” Cassie concluded. She glanced at Griffin quizzically.

  He seemed to be pondering the evidence for several moments. Eventually he glanced up and gave the tyro a rueful smile. “Well done, Zachary. You may put me out of a job one day.”

  The boy grinned with relief. “I’m glad you think so.” He paused. “Not the part about taking your job, I mean.”

  “Yes, I quite understand.”

  “It’s good that you two are on board with the location,” Maddie said. “I’ve already sent a recon team to Sakhalin to see if they can turn up anything before you get there. I also contacted the Jomon trove-keeper and told him to meet you once you’re ready to leave for the next leg of your trip.”

  “We should wait a week, just to be convincing,” Cassie said. “Daniel might get suspicious if I instantly announced I got a vibe about Japan.”

  “That makes sense,” Maddie concurred.

  “A short delay will give me time to do a bit of tidying in my office,” Griffin added sotto voce.

  Everyone chose to ignore the comment.

  In a sheepish voice, Zach asked, “I don’t suppose you’ve gotten an update on Hannah, have you?”

  Cassie gave him a consoling smile. “Don’t worry. Daniel promised to check in on her as soon as he got to the compound. He said he’d call if there’d been any change in her situation. So no news is good news.”

  “Okay,” Zach assented half-heartedly.

  “Speaking of Daniel,” the Chatelaine said. “How did he behave during your mission?”

  “He seemed surprisingly open-minded when we briefed him on matristic prehistory,” the Scrivener remarked.

  “Daniel was OK,” Cassie agreed. “Except...” she trailed off.

  Griffin completed the thought. “During our last day in Melbourne, he left abruptly to pay a visit to a Nephilim compound. When he returned, we could tell something was amiss but he didn’t offer any additional information.”

  “You should keep your guard up,” Maddie advised. “Just because he’s playing nice for now doesn’t mean he hasn’t got his own agenda on this quest.”

  “Quite right,” the Scrivener said.

  The Chatelaine scowled with dissatisfaction. “Speaking of hidden agendas, we’re still at a loss to know what Abe’s got up his sleeve. Why does he want the Sage Stone? What’s his end game? I just wish there was some way for us to get the inside scoop.”

  “I doubt Daniel will be forthcoming with that type of information,” Griffin demurred.

  “I doubt he even knows,” Maddie countered. “His father doesn’t seem to be the trusting sort. The Diviner operates on a need-to-know basis and nobody needs to know all the facts but him.”

  “All we can do is go along from day to day and hope somebody slips up,” Cassie said.
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  “In other words, pray for a miracle.” Maddie gave a mirthless laugh.

  “A miracle would be good right about now,” the Pythia agreed wistfully.

  Chapter 13—Character Assassination

  Leroy Hunt yawned and stood up to stretch. He paced around his living room to take a break from staring at his computer screen. He’d been at it for days, trying to pick up a paper trail from the farmhouse in the sticks that would lead him to Mr. Big. The preacher had given him the boring job of tracking down the secret organization that had become such a thorn in his side. No matter what old Abe had promised to Miss Cassie and Grif, he still planned to wipe out their whole operation at the end of the day. That meant Leroy needed to zero in on their headquarters while the two were otherwise occupied.

  The cowboy resented being consigned to the role of paper monkey. He’d have much preferred trailing after Daniel and the dynamic duo in Australia so he could look after his own vested interests. Once the last doodad was found, he’d be able to cash in his chips and collect his winnings. Leroy had waited a long time for his payday to come around and it was almost here. He didn’t want any screw-ups so close to the finish line. He cast an eye back toward the computer, considering whether it was time to knock off for the evening. Just then, his phone rang.

  He picked it up and answered. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Hunt?”

  It took him a moment to identify the voice. “Brother Dan’l?”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “You back in the States now?”

  “We returned yesterday afternoon.”

  Hunt swore under his breath. “Your daddy ain’t keepin’ me in the loop like he should.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” Daniel apologized distractedly. “I need to speak with you in person.”

  “Right now?” Hunt checked his watch. “Son, it’s almost quittin’ time. I ain’t gonna drive way the hell out to the compound tonight.”