“I’ll select something more fitting for you and your son.” Mother Rachel drifted toward the door. Apparently her visit was at an end. Over her shoulder, she remarked, “The Diviner told me to extend his congratulations. He’s relieved that the Scion’s issue is finally male.”
Her emphasis on the word “finally” made Annabeth flinch.
“Thank you,” the new mother said.
Mother Rachel nodded briskly and left. Her bearing was almost as imperious as her husband’s. She could afford to be haughty. Her status was secure.
Annabeth secretly hoped her own position might one day be that unassailable too. As it was, her rank was still precarious. Daniel’s two other wives had each produced one daughter. Annabeth only held ascendency over them by one child—this boy. She would need to become pregnant again soon. That was easier said than done since her husband was so unwilling to make conjugal visits to any of his wives. Well, she had managed to persuade him before. She could do it again.
She leaned her head back and gave a sigh of relief at the thought that the Diviner was pleased with her. What a welcome change. Her mind drifted back to her previous face-to-face encounters with Father Abraham. Annabeth cringed inwardly at the memory of his withering disapproval. First, he had blamed her for Daniel’s lack of offspring. Then he went on to accuse her of being an instrument of the devil. He had frightened her so badly that she was sure she could hear demons whispering in her head. Sometimes, if she became very quiet, she could still hear echoes of their mockery ringing in her ears.
She opened her eyes and shook herself out of her reverie. All of that was over now. The birth of her son had made everything better. Annabeth regarded him pensively. The baby slept on undisturbed. She lifted his little fist with her index finger. Such a small creature to hold her future happiness in the palm of his tiny pink hand. He was her guarantee of salvation. The Lord could never shut her out of the celestial kingdom now. The devil could never have her soul no matter how he whispered in her ear and scratched at her thoughts. The principal wife of the Scion was safe—at least for now.
Chapter 8—An Overview Of India
Cassie raised her coffee cup to her lips and took a slow sip. She reveled in the relaxed start to this day knowing that while her team was already in India, Daniel had only just begun to work on cracking the next clue. His procrastination had given the Arkana a sizeable head start. Without the Nephilim breathing down their necks, the trio might find the next few weeks downright enjoyable. She gazed out at the spectacular view stretching beyond the open-air restaurant on the roof of the Cosmopolitan Hotel. The sight of the Arabian Sea dancing in the morning light had a rejuvenating effect.
She turned her head to watch as Griffin pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.
“How are you this morning?” he asked tentatively, apparently expecting her usual jet lag complaints. The flight from Chicago to Mumbai had been daunting. Twenty hours of air travel followed by a pre-dawn taxi ride to the hotel.
She smiled at him and gave a thumbs up. “I’m OK.” She cast a doubtful glance down toward her coffee. “Of course, that could be because I’m hopped up on caffeine.”
The Scrivener stifled a yawn. “Caffeine. What an excellent suggestion.”
A waiter appeared at that moment to fill his cup.
“Now that’s a change,” Cassie observed. “I’m usually the one with the time zone problem.” She shielded her eyes and glanced up at the sky. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the climate. Maybe it’s the view but I feel downright peppy.”
“Peppy, huh?” Erik joined them. He slid into the remaining chair at the table. “Then that makes one of you.”
“What’s the matter, road warrior? A little sleepy this morning?” The Pythia’s voice held a note of mockery.
The Paladin refused to take off his sunglasses. “Why’s it so bright out here,” he complained.
“Being a vampire must be hell,” Cassie observed dryly.
“I blame the kid with colic who boarded the plane in Newark,” Erik explained. “I didn’t get any shut-eye at all last night.”
“Even I heard the wailing and I was seated a dozen rows behind you,” Griffin admitted. “It’s fascinating that a creature weighing no more than twelve pounds should possess such powerful lungs.”
“And for that many hours.” Erik groaned.
The trio hadn’t been seated together on the crowded flight. Because of an error in their ticketing, Cassie received a first class seat while the two men were relegated to coach.
Once the waiter arrived to pour Erik’s coffee, he downed the entire cup in two gulps.
“Careful, that’s hot,” Cassie cautioned.
“A burned tongue might wake me up,” the Paladin retorted.
“I think I figured out the cure for jet lag,” the Pythia said brightly. “Well, mine anyway. The trick is to always sit in first class. My seat reclined flat like a bed and I was in a suite which is a mini-cabin all by itself. Then the stewardess gave me something called an amenity bag and it had pajamas and slippers and an eye mask. With all that pampering, even I could sleep. It was great!”
Erik slid his sunglasses down his nose long enough to fix her with a scornful stare. “And you think Maddie’s gonna foot the bill for your upgrade every time we take a long-haul flight?”
“She might if I explain how much jet lag throws me off my game.” Cassie appealed to the Scrivener. “Tell him, Griffin. Remember what you said about Pythias and their delicate nervous systems?”
“Oh, don’t drag me into this,” he demurred, vigorously stirring cream into his coffee.
At that moment, the waiter invited them to help themselves to the breakfast buffet. They wandered over to a long cloth-covered table bedecked with a vast array of breakfast foods. Aside from fresh fruit and various meats, the biggest surprises were bagels, cream cheese and lox.
“Frankly, I expected curry,” Cassie mumbled to Griffin.
“This hotel caters to an international clientele,” he remarked. “The food served here is meant to suit a Western palate.”
The trio advanced to a separate table where a chef was creating made-to-order omelets. They each chose one. A half hour later, after a few more trips to the buffet and several more cups of coffee, Cassie’s teammates seemed almost lively. Or at least Griffin did.
Moving her plate to the side, the Pythia transferred her attention back to the view of the ocean. “So where are we exactly?” she asked. “It was dark and all I remember is a long, long cab ride from the airport.”
“We’re in South Mumbai now—the Back Bay area,” Griffin replied. “That stretch of road curving along the water is Marine Drive. At night, the view from this vantage point is called ‘The Queen’s Necklace’ because the lights resemble a strand of pearls.”
“It’s a pretty impressive view during the day too,” Cassie observed appreciatively. “Marine Drive kind of reminds me of Lake Shore Drive back in Chicago.”
“Yes, I can see the similarity,” the Scrivener admitted.
Erik rose abruptly from the table. “I’m going back to my room for some more shut-eye. Come and get me when you two decide on a plan for the day.”
“See you later, Captain Cranky Pants,” Cassie called after him.
The Paladin pretended he didn’t hear her.
Griffin watched the retreating figure of his teammate then turned to Cassie with a troubled expression. “Is everything alright between you two?”
She was taken aback by the question. “Everything’s fine. What made you ask that?”
“I couldn’t help but notice you checked into separate hotel rooms.”
“Oh that.” Cassie laughed. “It isn’t common knowledge around the Arkana that Erik and I are involved. You only know about it because that was unavoidable.”
The Scrivener colored as they both remembered their embarrassing encounter in the hotel hallway in Rabat.
“I haven’t told anybody else.”
�
�Didn’t Maddie question your hotel bill from Tahiti? I’m assuming the two of you shared a room while you were vacationing there.” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“We shared a room some of the time but the accommodations were separate. As far as hotel arrangements go, I like having a place to myself where I can crash if I want to.”
Griffin glanced down at the tablecloth, unwilling to meet her gaze. “I realize this is an impertinent question but do you see any future in your relationship with Erik?”
“Hey, look at me,” Cassie coaxed, leaning forward to catch his eye. “It’s not impertinent. You’re my teammate and my friend. You have a right to know what’s going on. The truth is I can’t be sure. Right now, we’re just friends with benefits.” She propped her chin on her hand and sighed. “Though I could see myself falling for him if I had any encouragement.”
“And does he feel the same way about you?” Griffin asked in a guarded tone.
The Pythia shrugged helplessly. “See, that’s just the thing. Who knows? Erik’s very cagey that way. He doesn’t like to show his cards—emotionally speaking.”
Griffin reached across the table and grasped her hand. “This is well beyond presumptuous of me but I don’t want... I mean it would be terrible if...” He sighed with exasperation at his own incoherence. “I don’t want you to be hurt, that’s all.”
She squeezed his hand reassuringly before releasing it. “I’m all grown up now, Griffin. Whatever happens, I can handle it.”
He colored slightly. “Yes, of course. I shouldn’t have meddled. None of my business really.”
Cassie tactfully changed the subject. Her gaze traveled from the promenade along Marine Drive to the buildings on the opposite side of the road. “One high-rise after another. This sure isn’t the image of India I had in my head.”
Griffin perked up instantly, relieved at the distraction of a new topic. “Mumbai is quite modern. A bustling metropolis of twenty million people. The largest city in India and fourth largest in the world. It is also the wealthiest city with the best standard of living, not just in India but in much of Asia. The city represents how India would like to perceived as a nation.” He hesitated.
The waiter swooped in to clear away the breakfast plates.
Sensing there was more to the story, Cassie asked, “What aren’t you saying?”
“A million people live in Dharavi—a shanty town slum— only a few miles away from the wealthiest residences in Mumbai. The contrast is mind-boggling. India is a nation built of opposites—prosperous urban centers at one end of the spectrum and rural hamlets at the other. Seventy percent of the population lives in small villages and much of that population is mired in poverty and ignorance.”
“Why such a difference?”
Griffin paused to ponder the question. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “I think it’s difficult for Westerners to understand the national consciousness in India because it differs so much from our own.”
Cassie finished her coffee and stared at the empty cup. Before she could ask for a refill, the ever-vigilant waiter glided back with the coffee pot. She gave him a grateful smile and returned to the topic. “Explain, please.”
“Try to think of the United States as fifty independent principalities competing with one another for resources. Then try to imagine that these fifty principalities speak different languages and follow different religious beliefs. You might get some idea of the incongruence within what is now considered a single country.”
“So everybody in India more or less went off and did their own thing?”
“Yes, and that uniqueness translates to local traditions that diverge from one region to another. At a village level, people stubbornly cling to a way of life they have held not merely for centuries but for millennia.”
“Yikes, talk about people being dragged kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century.”
Griffin sighed, contemplating the ocean view. “The wealthy modern cities of India are somewhat embarrassed by rural backwardness. It’s like the offputting uncle one wishes to hide in a closet when company comes to visit.”
Cassie chuckled. “In the information age, it must be hard keeping Uncle Sanjay under wraps.”
“I also think modern India fears that such behavior causes the rest of the world to view the entire country as regressive and superstitious.”
The Pythia pondered his comment. “Americans would worry about national image too if the international press covered nothing but stories about Appalachian hill-folk.”
“Precisely.” Griffin nodded in agreement.
The two lapsed into silence, absently watching as pedestrians ambled along the promenade or took pictures of the ocean view.
Cassie changed the subject. “So where are we headed today?”
“We’re going to see if we can find the island tower mentioned in our mysterious riddle. What better place to start than a city constructed entirely of islands.”
She glanced dubiously at the landscape surrounding the hotel. “You’re telling me that this city of twenty million isn’t a single land mass?”
“Originally, no.” Griffin dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and pushed his coffee cup away. “Mumbai, or Bombay as it was called until quite recently, was an archipelago of seven islands separated by swamps. The islands were home to a series of fishing colonies. Over the course of five centuries, various land reclamation projects connected all the islands into the metropolis you see before you.”
The Pythia contemplated the high-rises ringing Marine Drive. “I suppose it makes sense to look for an island tower in a city of islands but...” She paused and shook her head. “I don’t know how you expect to find that tower in the middle of all this.”
“Not quite in the middle of the city,” Griffin corrected with a slight smile. “The place I have in mind is separated from here by eight miles of geography and a few thousand years of history.”
Chapter 9— Ferry Tales
Later that morning, after collecting a still-groggy Erik, the trio left the hotel and turned down Marine Drive in a southeasterly direction. They dodged a variety of foot traffic from sightseers and locals. As the sun rose higher, so did the humidity and temperature. Fortunately, the breeze off the water persisted.
When they came to the intersection of Madame Cama Boulevard, Griffin announced, “It’s this way.”
Cassie and Erik obediently followed him down the palm-lined street for several blocks.
“So where are we going anyway?” Erik murmured.
“He’s alive!” Cassie announced, nudging the Paladin in the ribs.
He had lost enough of his earlier grumpiness to smile at the observation.
“We’re going to the ferry landing,” Griffin replied.
“We get to travel on a boat?” Cassie asked in disbelief. “Now that’s something we haven’t done lately. What’s the destination?”
“You’ll see,” the Scrivener said mysteriously.
“Oh great, he’s being cryptic again,” she confided to Erik. “I hate it when he does that.”
“Huh?” was all the Paladin could manage.
After a few more turns, they emerged onto an open plaza.
Erik paused to stare at the enormous edifice on their right. “Is this some kind of government building? It looks Victorian.”
“That’s the Taj Mahal Palace, not to be confused with the monument,” Griffin informed him. “It’s a hotel built at the turn of the twentieth century, hence the Victorian facade.”
Cassie turned to the Paladin in surprise. “You don’t know the local landmarks? I thought I was the only sightseer in this group.”
Erik shrugged. “For whatever reason, I never got assigned to fieldwork in India. This is all new to me too.”
The Scrivener led them past the hotel and across the square that fronted on Mumbai harbor. Dominating the open space was a monument of some sort. It appeared to be a tourist attraction because clusters of people
stood around taking photos of a stone archway with themselves beneath it.
“Lady and gentleman, this is the Gateway To India,” Griffin announced grandly.
The trio paused to contemplate the structure. The arch stood over eighty feet high. It was constructed of a brown stone which Griffin said was basalt and the design appeared to be a mixture of Indian and Arab architectural styles.
“The Gateway was built to commemorate the visit of King George the Fifth and Queen Mary during the time when India was still part of the British Empire. It was completed in 1924,” Griffin explained. “It’s since been used as the ceremonial access point for dignitaries visiting India.”
“That probably made more sense when everybody traveled by sea,” Erik observed.
“Yes, but it’s still fulfilling its welcoming function by being a popular tourist attraction,” the Scrivener said.
Cassie studied the sightseers milling around the base of the monument. They constituted a jumble of nationalities. Some Asians from Japan and China. Europeans and Americans. Indian men wearing western clothing and women dressed in saris. Despite their varied clothing styles, they all sported camera phones aimed at the arch.
Griffin worriedly consulted his watch. “We’ll need to hurry if we’re to catch the next ferry.”
Cassie and Erik trailed him down a flight of stone stairs in front of the Arch. Several boats were docked at the bottom of the steps and were taking on passengers.
The trio climbed aboard a wooden vessel with tire bumpers lashed to the sides. Both the upper and lower decks were open to the elements.
Cassie was reminded of the water taxis that plied the Chicago River. Back home, open air compartments were unthinkable. Passengers needed to be protected from the Windy City’s frequently foul weather. Not so in central India where it was safe to assume a balmy temperature year-round.
An attendant helped Cassie step down onto the lower deck of the boat. Seating consisted of wooden benches lining the sides of the ferry. In the middle of the deck, plastic chairs had been positioned in rows and bolted to the floor.
Into The Jaws Of The Lion (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 5) Page 5
