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

by N. S. Wikarski

  “If he did, he’d have gotten a nasty surprise.” Cassie directed her flashlight to a point above their heads. “Do you see that deep crevice running across the ceiling?”

  Her companions peered upward where a dark fissure ran the entire length of the cavern.

  “The Minoans did that,” Cassie explained. “They figured out where the cave was weakest and then they chiseled along that rift to weaken it even more.”

  “You’re saying they deliberately compromised the structural integrity of this entire cavern?” Griffin studied the ceiling. “But why?”

  “Look at where that fracture ends,” the Pythia instructed. She trailed her beam across the ceiling to the wall holding the scales. “The fault line runs right through the ceiling of the blind tunnel. The Minoans set a booby trap to split that gap wide open if somebody takes a sledge hammer to this wall.”

  “I see.” The Scrivener’s tone was grim. “Theoretically, any strong percussive blow might trip the mechanism and bring the roof crashing down.”

  “Yup,” Cassie agreed. “The Minoans intended that anybody who used force to grab their artifact wouldn’t make it out of here alive. They’d be crushed by the mountain and the Sage Stone would stay buried here forever.”

  “It’s clear that if we want to retrieve the relic, we need to play by the rules,” Daniel cautioned.

  “No argument there.” The Pythia returned to the task of cracking the next clay lily seal, though she tapped more gently this time. Her companions stepped forward to help chip away at the remaining seals.

  “They did something like this to conceal the artifact at Napata, didn’t they?” the Scrivener asked of no one in particular. He seemed to be thinking out loud. “Of course, that was on a much smaller scale.”

  “On a much smaller scale?” The Pythia raised an eyebrow. “You couldn’t leave it alone, could you?”

  “Someone had to say it,” Griffin protested in mock innocence.

  They all worked steadily at their tasks until the niches and their contents had been fully revealed.

  “Five hidden scales,” Lars said.

  “Five,” Daniel repeated. “As in five artifacts?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s obvious now, isn’t it?” the Scrivener said.

  In the face of their blank stares, he hastened to explain. “We’ve forgotten about the last line of the riddle. ‘Her reliquary holds the key’.”

  Stepping back a few feet, Griffin swept the beam of his flashlight across the scales. “This wall, my friends, is the reliquary mentioned in the riddle. A repository for precious relics. In our case, the five artifacts retrieved on this quest.”

  “I suppose the scales are weighted to match the relics,” the Scion ventured.

  “I would assume so,” Griffin concurred. “And if the weights don’t tally exactly, then the hiding place of the Sage Stone will never reveal itself.”

  “That means our final task is simple.” Daniel sounded relieved. “All we have to do is place the artifacts on the scales.”

  “Not so fast.” Cassie was eyeing the middle scale. “This metal plate is smaller than the rest.” She pushed it with her fingers. “It doesn’t move downward so it isn’t a scale at all.” She directed her flashlight at the plate. “There’s also a hole right in the center. This must be where the labrys key fits.”

  The Pythia ran her fingers across the wall below the middle disk, crouching down where the wall met the floor. “The Sage Stone is sitting right behind another clay seal here.”

  They all knelt around her.

  “It’s inside a metal box,” Cassie said. “I just got a mental flash. Its container is being held in place by that scale contraption. Once we turn the labrys key in the lock, the box will be ejected through the final clay seal.”

  Lars rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “So we go to work now?”

  “No, we stop here.” Cassie stood up.

  “What?” the guide cried in disbelief.

  “She’s right.” Daniel rose too. “We promised my father that we wouldn’t take any action until he arrived on the scene.”

  “We don’t have what we need to release the box anyway,” the Pythia said. “All we can do is go back home to arrange a rendezvous.” Turning to Daniel, she added pointedly, “Unless, of course, your old man plans to double-cross us.”

  “He would never do that!” the Scion protested.

  “More to the point, he can’t do that,” Griffin said, rising and dusting off his hands. “We have custody of the key.”

  “And he has custody of Hannah and Erik, not to mention the other four artifacts,” Daniel reminded them.

  Cassie and Griffin exchanged a swift glance, both of them realizing that Daniel still believed the Nephilim held the original relics rather than copies.

  “And that’s how you guarantee honor among thieves,” the Pythia said smoothly. “We all need to bring something to the party.”

  Lars appeared crestfallen.

  “Don’t worry, big guy,” Cassie consoled him. “I’ll see that you get an invite to the grand unveiling. In the meantime, you have an important job to do. Now that we’ve broken the seals, curious hikers might wander in and start poking around. You’ll need to keep watch and make sure nobody messes with the reliquary til we get back.”

  The guide brightened at the news. “Excellent! My usual job is never this exciting.” He consulted his watch. “Einar will be returning soon. We should go outside and pile some stones across the cave entrance. Then nobody will try to get inside while I am gone. Tonight, I will return and make camp to guard Grandmother Ahkka’s home.”

  Satisfied with their plan, they all filed out through the exit tunnel. Cassie hung back a moment, pausing to contemplate the treasure chamber one last time. The Sage Stone hadn’t seen the light of day for three thousand years. If Abraham Metcalf succeeded in getting his way, the brave new world that greeted it wouldn’t be worth the wait.

  Chapter 40—The Devil Is In The Details

  Hannah heard the key slide into the lock just in time to throw her ebook reader inside a dresser drawer and bury it under a pile of stockings. She whirled about as Joshua entered the room.

  His face was grim. “For someone who doesn’t speak, you certainly provoke a lot of chatter among the community. Tongues are wagging about Mother Rachel’s last visit to you and the tragic aftermath. No one can seem to talk of anything else.”

  The girl gave a slight smile and shrugged.

  Joshua stared at her intently. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

  Hannah regulated her expression to its characteristic blankness.

  “You have them all fooled, not simply my father. No one can believe a child who looks so sweet and innocent could be capable of such monstrous duplicity. But you are, Sister Hannah, and I intend to prove it.”

  The girl made a supreme effort to keep from rolling her eyes. She had heard this particular rant so many times by now that it had lost its power to frighten her. Joshua might bluster all he liked but she would never confirm his suspicions that she could talk.

  The spymaster removed a small object from his pocket and set it on the dresser. It appeared to be some sort of digital recording device. He switched it on and then turned back to the girl.

  “The Brotherhood is in crisis. My father has set us on a path to destruction and I alone can avert disaster. To do that, I must persuade the Diviner that I am the only one he can trust—the only one who has his best interests at heart. And you’re going to help me convince him.”

  Hannah had no idea where this rambling monologue was leading but she began to grow apprehensive. After Mother Rachel’s deranged assault, she needed to prepare herself for anything. The girl realized that Joshua hadn’t locked the door behind him. That was fortunate since her own stolen key was hidden in the closet. She crossed to the middle of the room in order to slip past her visitor if things took a bad turn.

  The spymaster blocked her path. “I went to visi
t Mother Rachel in the asylum yesterday. It was a sad sight. She was out of her head much of the time. Small wonder since the doctors are keeping her heavily sedated. However, I was able to filter through her ramblings and discover one pertinent fact. She repeated it over and over.” He glared at Hannah accusingly. “She heard you speak.”

  The girl blanched. Yes, it was true. During the matron’s rampage, Hannah had screamed aloud and called for help.

  Joshua was still talking. “Mother Rachel has told everyone your secret. It’s a shame nobody believes her. What a cruel irony. That a highly respected Consecrated Bride should lose all credibility. That I, myself, should suffer the same reaction from my father. Mother Rachel and I have both spoken the truth but our words are doubted while the silence of a scheming witch like you is believed. I see the devil’s hand in this. You have cast an enchantment over my father and the rest of the brethren. Only Mother Rachel and I were strong enough to withstand it. Had she succeeded in killing you, our problems would be over but Satan protects you still. That’s about to change.”

  He lunged toward Hannah. Before she could dart away, he grasped her by the neck.

  She flailed her arms around in panic but wasn’t close enough to a wall to pound on it and alert Erik.

  Joshua increased the pressure on her throat. “It seems you only use your voice when threatened. Is this enough of a threat for you?”

  Hannah had no choice. Joshua loosened his grip by only a hairsbreadth but it was enough. She let out a high-pitched shriek. Then another and another.

  The spymaster smiled sadistically. “At last. A scream is a good start. How about a few words now?”

  Hannah struggled to pry his hands away but they remained fastened to her windpipe.

  He relaxed his hold a bit. “Isn’t there anything you’d like to say? Not even the word ‘Help’?”

  Hannah was ready to oblige, no matter what the consequences. She opened her mouth to speak when she thought she heard a tiny sound. She fancied it was the doorknob turning.

  Joshua was so engrossed in getting her to talk, he apparently hadn’t heard it. She screamed again to drown out whatever noise the person outside might make.

  Over Joshua’s shoulder, she saw a small movement. The door was opening a crack. Then the crack widened. Someone was slipping into her room.

  She needed to focus all of the spymaster’s attention on herself now. In the loudest voice she could summon, she cried, “Help! He’s trying to kill me!”

  Joshua released his hold and stepped back from her, chuckling with satisfaction. “Shout as loud as you like. Nobody will come running to your rescue.”

  From out of nowhere, a hand gripped the spymaster by the side of the head and slammed his skull against the wall. Then a second time and a third until Joshua crumpled to the floor unconscious.

  Erik grinned at Hannah. “Guess he was wrong about that.”

  She ran to him, sobbing.

  “It’s OK, kid. You’re safe now.” Erik patted her on the back until she calmed down. “Besides, I should be the one thanking you. I’ve been dying to take a swing at that joker ever since his goons shot me.”

  Hannah laughed in spite of herself. “It’s a good thing he left the door unlocked.”

  The Paladin shook his head in bafflement. “How many people in this place want to kill you? Seriously, you’d stand less chance of getting attacked if you ran through airport security wearing a sign that says, ‘I’m a suicide bomber. Catch me if you can.’”

  “As long as you’re next door, I guess I’m safe enough.”

  Erik stepped away and studied the girl’s throat. “Those red marks on your neck are beauties. They should bruise up nicely.”

  “What’s nice about that?” She rubbed the marks tentatively.

  Erik turned to regard Joshua. “He could weasel out of this by saying he never laid a hand on you. Those bruises are proof that he did.”

  “But now he has proof that I can speak too.” Hannah pointed dolefully to the recorder sitting on the dresser.

  “Really?” Erik went over and examined the device. Then he threw it on the floor and crushed it under his heel. Turning innocently to the girl, he said, “I don’t see any recorder. Do you?”

  She gave a relieved smile.

  Erik picked up the pieces of plastic and slipped them into his pocket. “I’ll go back to my room and sound the alarm but first...” He paused to survey the situation. “We have to set the scene.”

  Hannah tilted her head quizzically.

  “For starters, I want you to rake your nails across his cheek as hard as you can. Make sure you dig deep enough to draw blood.”

  “That’s horrible!” The girl’s confusion intensified. “Why on earth should I do that?”

  “Your bruises prove you were attacked. The scratches will prove he was the attacker.”

  “Isn’t being found unconscious in my room proof enough?”

  “Consider it a few extra nails in the coffin-lid.” He grinned. “Pun intended.”

  “Pun?” Hannah’s eyes widened in alarm. “There was a pun in that sentence?”

  “Oh, right, I forgot. Zach told me you were humor-impaired.”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say!” the girl flared with irritation. “He knows I’ve worked really, really hard on my humor skills.”

  “Um, I don’t think humor is something a person is supposed to ‘work at’.” Erik made air quotes around the last two words.

  Hannah barely heard him. “And now I have to master puns too?”

  “It’s not like there’s gonna be a pop quiz,” the Paladin countered. “Besides, right now we’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

  “I know that one,” she responded anxiously. “That’s a metaphor, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” the Paladin replied cautiously, eyeing Joshua. “The metaphor knocked out cold on the floor waiting to have his face clawed.”

  “I’ll do it but this is awful.” Hannah knelt down beside the spymaster. She winced and then dragged her nails across his cheek. He emitted a reflexive grunt of pain.

  Erik strode over to the nightstand and slid out the top drawer, shaking its contents on the floor. He handed it to the girl. “If he wakes up before help arrives, clock him with this.”

  Hannah stood up and hefted the empty drawer by its metal handle. “That won’t be a problem. I’ve had some practice.”

  “Wait a second.” Erik studied Joshua’s posture. “I slammed him on the left side of the head. We need to drag him away from the wall or the angle of your swing won’t be convincing.”

  Together they pulled the spymaster toward the center of the room and posed him in a slumped seated position. He was still unconscious.

  Erik then took Hannah by the shoulders and positioned her over the body and slightly to the right. “There, that should do it. Just stay like that until help arrives. Oh, and, try to look like a damsel in distress.”

  “I won’t have to try,” the girl retorted.

  Erik slipped out of the room. Once he got back inside his own quarters, Hannah could hear his distraught voice on the phone summoning help.

  ***

  Five minutes later, three people burst into Hannah’s room. This time Sister Ruth was accompanied by two sentries.

  Joshua was just coming out of his stupor. “Wha...” His head lolled from side to side.

  “God help us,” one of the sentries uttered. “It’s Brother Joshua.” The two men hauled him to his feet.

  Hannah attempted to summon up a few tears. It wasn’t hard considering how shaken she felt. Dropping the nightstand drawer, she pulled down her collar and pointed toward her neck.

  Sister Ruth easily interpreted what happened. “He tried to choke you!” she exclaimed in disbelief. “You poor lamb!” She scurried over to wrap a protective arm around Hannah.

  The girl nodded solemnly and then made a scratching motion with her fingers.

  “And you defended yourself the best way you could.” Sister Ru
th eyed the gashes on Joshua’s cheek and then noted the blood under Hannah’s fingernails.

  The sentries did likewise and tightened their grip on the Diviner’s son.

  Hannah pantomimed picking up the drawer and swinging it against Joshua’s head.

  Her audience nodded with comprehension.

  Joshua’s eyes began to regain their focus. “What happened here?” he asked in a thick voice.

  “You attacked the Diviner’s wife, that’s what happened here,” Sister Ruth informed him. “It’s a disgrace. You know very well that a Consecrated Bride may only be beaten by her own husband. Jedediah Proctor said so himself.”

  “What?” Joshua shook his head from side-to-side, apparently hoping to clear it.

  The sentries pulled him toward the door.

  “I am your leader,” Joshua protested indignantly. “You take your orders from me!”

  The guards traded guilty looks but didn’t release their hold.

  One of them replied. “Father Abraham is a higher authority where the welfare of his wife is concerned, sir. You can explain things to him.”

  The spymaster obviously realized he was under arrest. His hand flew to his cheek. He noted the blood coating his fingers. Then he glanced down at the drawer, inferring that Hannah had knocked him out. His eyes traveled wildly to the dresser where his recorder had been only moments before. “How did you do this?” he shouted at the girl.

  She responded by burying her face against Sister Ruth’s shoulder.

  “There, there. Don’t listen to him,” the woman stroked her hair. “The Diviner will sort everything out.”

  “This is the devil’s work! Mother Rachel was right. You are a demon in human form!” Joshua screamed and struggled against his captors. “A demon!”

  The sentries turned a deaf ear to his accusations as they dragged him from the room.

  Chapter 41—Nailed

  Joshua ran a washcloth under the tap in his bathroom sink. He soaked it in cold water, wrung it out, and gingerly dabbed the blood off his cheek. He needed an icepack for the throbbing bump on the side of his head but there was no way to get one now. He was a prisoner in his own room. The spymaster returned to the sitting area and threw himself disgustedly into a chair. His hand-picked guards had dragged him here and then gone off to report to the Diviner. When he’d tried to follow them down the corridor, he found two other sentries posted at the door who shoved him unceremoniously back inside. The indignity of it all!