“Oh, but it is,” Dee replied mysteriously. She looked like the proverbial cat who’d swallowed the canary. The trove-keeper swiveled her chair around to face the Arkana team. “The Great Rann of Kutch is a salt desert only part of the year. When the monsoon rains fall, it floods with water—as much as five feet deep in places. And sitting right in the middle of that flooded salt desert is an island called Khadir Bet. Anybody want to guess what’s on the island?”
“I’ll go out on a limb and say it’s an IVC city,” Erik ventured.
“And the gentleman wins a kewpie doll.” Dee’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “This island city happens to be the largest IVC site this side of the Pakistani border. It was first excavated in 1989. A marvel of water conservation engineering. It was abandoned in 1450 BCE, long before your Minoan friends arrived. Based on Cassie’s vision, it would seem they carved their lily on a stone in the floor of the observatory at Dholavira.”
“Dholavira,” Cassie echoed. “That’s the name of the place I saw?”
“Yes, Dholavira. That’s where you’ll find your island tower.”
Instead of looking happy, Griffin crossed his arms and frowned at the computer monitor. “But that makes no sense.”
“What doesn’t?” Erik challenged.
The Scrivener rubbed his forehead. “Why would the Minoans go to all the trouble of giving us a line of latitude to follow? The riddle clearly stated that the dove continued to fly eastward along the same course until she alighted on her island tower.” He focused on Dee. “What is the latitude of Dholavira?”
She typed in the search criteria. “23.8861 degrees. Right on the Tropic Of Cancer, in fact. That would probably explain the prominent observatory.”
“Wait a minute,” Cassie interrupted. “Wasn’t Nabta Playa on the Tropic Of Cancer?” She rounded on her teammates. “What if we miscalculated the dove’s position in Africa?”
“I beg your pardon.” Griffin sounded put out. “We’ve already established that the dove led us to Nabta Playa and from there to Napata.”
“Sure, she led us to Nabta Playa,” Cassie countered. “But where in the riddle does it say she flew on with us to Napata?”
“But...but she must have done,” Griffin protested.
“Hold on,” Erik weighed in. “Remember exactly what the riddle said. Once we got to Nabta Playa, the helmsman was the one who pointed us to Napata. The dove had nothing to do with that part of the clue.”
“Oh, dear.” Griffin blanched as the implication struck him. “I’ve been very stupid.”
“Twice in fact.” The Paladin grinned. “That’s the second time you got the latitude wrong.”
“Yes, I’m painfully aware of that fact now.”
Dee looked from one face to the next, trying to understand the conversation. “What on earth are you all talking about?”
“It would seem I’ve misinterpreted our destination,” Griffin admitted. “I assumed our starting point in Africa was the ancient city of Napata. It lies at a latitude of nineteen degrees north. Traveling eastward along that line would have put us in the vicinity of Mumbai.” He cleared his throat. “However, as my colleagues have pointed out, the riddle wasn’t specific as to where the dove was stationed while we continued our trek southward. If we are to assume she began her eastward journey from Nabta Playa, then she would have flown along the Tropic Of Cancer all the way from Africa to India.”
“That would have led you straight to Dholavira,” Dee said.
“So it would appear.” Griffin sighed.
Cassie patted him on the back. “Cheer up. We might still have hit a snag even if we went there first. We wouldn’t have known about the flooding. It sure didn’t look like an island tower to me and I was standing right on the spot, psychically anyway.”
The Scrivener gave her a grateful smile.
“Hey, all’s well that ends well,” Erik said consolingly. He focused his attention on Dee. “So how do we get to Dholavira from here?”
The trove-keeper typed another search string. “You can catch a flight from Cochin Airport to Mumbai and from there to Bhuj. That would be the closest city to the Rann Of Kutch.”
Dee drew up a map of their destination on her computer. She studied the mileage. “Of course, you’ll need to rent a car. It’s one hundred and fifty miles from Bhuj to Dholavira.”
“I sure hope there’s a place to stay once we get there,” Cassie commented. “It sounds like quite a trek.”
“Well...” Dee hesitated. “There is guest housing nearby but it isn’t very good. You’re better off staying overnight in Bhuj. It’s going to take you all day to get that far anyway. You can tackle Dholavira as a day trip the following morning.” The trove-keeper drummed her fingers on her desk, thinking. “I suppose I should contact someone from the IVC trove to handle the clean-up after you leave.”
All three of them stared at her.
“We don’t usually trash a dig site when we search it,” Erik said defensively.
Dee gave a short laugh. “Are any of you card-carrying members of the Mason’s Union?”
“You mean like Free Masons?” The Paladin squinted at her.
Instead of replying, Dee’s gaze travelled to the lily stone which Cassie had left lying on the table in the alcove.
“Oh I see!” Griffin exclaimed. “Someone needs to fasten the lily stone fragment back in place once we pinpoint its original location. We must leave our clue intact for the Nephilim to find.”
“As I said, I’ll find somebody to follow you out there and make sure the artifact is set back where it belongs.”
“Good catch,” Erik admitted. “None of us thought of that.”
“In fact, if it wasn’t for you we’d still be spinning our wheels in the sand at Mohenjo-Daro,” Cassie observed.
“Oh, stop.” Dee chuckled. “You’ll turn my head.”
“All joking aside,” Griffin said, “we are indebted to your quick thinking. First, in recognizing the significance of the Minoan lily, then in pointing us to Dholavira and, finally, in reminding us to put the artifact back.”
Dee gave them a playful smile. “Tell you what. You can take me out to dinner the next time I’m in the States as a way of saying thank you.”
“Absolutely!” Cassie replied.
The others nodded in unison.
The trove-keeper wrinkled her brow briefly as a new thought struck her. “Just not Indian food, OK? Let’s try something exotic instead.”
Chapter 22—Sexual Disorientation
Daniel waited in the library corridor next to the Rare Book Exhibit, anxious for Chris to arrive. Ever since he had begun to work on the clue to the next artifact’s location, Daniel worried about discussing the topic with Chris in a place where other library patrons could eavesdrop. His friend had suggested that the two of them meet every day at 3 o’clock in what had become their private upstairs conference room.
The Scion scanned the silent corridor, clutching his laptop and portfolio nervously. He always feared that a security guard might decide to wander up here one day and catch him. It would be hard to explain what he was doing lurking outside the room that housed the library’s most valuable collection of antique volumes. He gave an involuntary sigh of relief when the elevator doors opened and Chris appeared.
“Sorry. I got held up at the reference desk,” he said, unlocking the exhibit door.
When Daniel entered the room, his gaze travelled immediately to the illuminated manuscripts housed in glass cases that lined the walls. He was always struck by their beauty—the word of God written in jeweled ink on parchment. Even if one didn’t understand Latin, the volumes were an exquisite sight purely as works of art.
Chris interrupted his thoughts. “Any luck today?”
Daniel shook his head and took a seat next to him on the circular bench in the middle of the exhibit. “I’m afraid not and my father’s temper will soon be growing short at my lack of results.”
The Scion ran his fingers distr
actedly through his hair. “I don’t know where else to look. I’ve studied every seacoast town in a straight line eastward from Napata all the way across the Arabian Peninsula and I can’t find any reference to an island tower.”
Chris gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “We’ll figure this out together. We did it before. We can do it again.”
“I had fewer distractions last time,” Daniel demurred.
His friend gave him a quizzical look. “What are you talking about?”
Daniel rubbed his tired eyes. “My third wife recently gave birth to a son.”
Chris’s face froze for a moment but he recovered and gave a smile. “Congratulations. You never talk about your family. You must be proud.”
“My father is proud of my accomplishment.” Daniel accented the last word. “I fear the new baby will only bring more problems.”
Chris took Daniel’s computer and set it on the floor. He turned to face the Scion. “I think we need to talk about your family problems more than the relic hunt. You’re in no shape to discuss artifacts today. What is going on with you?”
The Scion looked up at the skylight. “Where to begin? I think I’ve already mentioned that the Nephilim brotherhood practices polygamy. A marital state which I’ve since learned is illegal among the Fallen.”
The librarian gave a small chuckle. “I can’t picture you married to one woman much less ‘women’ plural.”
“Nor can I,” Daniel agreed. “I never wished to marry at all. I was content with my studies but in order to build my heavenly kingdom my religion requires me to take many wives.”
Chris wrinkled his forehead. “Your heavenly kingdom?”
“The Nephilim believe that when we leave this life, each man among us will receive a share in our Father’s celestial kingdom. The portion allotted to us depends on how many wives and children we have.”
“Oh boy,” Chris murmured under his breath. “That must be a nightmare.”
“For me, yes,” Daniel replied earnestly. “I complied with the rules of my faith. As my father assigned me each wife—“
Chris cut him off. “Whoa, back up. Your father did what now?”
“The Diviner chose my brides for me since I expressed no preference myself. There were three of them. Each wife bore a single child—a daughter.”
“If you managed to pull that off you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din,” Chris commented.
“I don’t understand.” Daniel’s tone was perplexed.
“Never mind, go on.”
“My father became concerned since I had no male offspring. That problem was solved when Annabeth gave birth to a son.”
“Annabeth is one of your wives?” Chris asked.
“Yes, she is now my principal wife.”
“And that means what exactly?”
“In our faith, the wife who has produced the most offspring, especially if they are male, has dominion over the other wives. Such a woman becomes a man’s principal wife.”
“So, no competition there.” Chris chuckled.
“Ordinarily, the arrangement isn’t a problem. Most sister-wives live amicably with one another but Annabeth has been overbearing toward the others. I believe she wishes to solidify her position by having another child immediately. That’s why she’s been pressuring me to have relations with her again.”
“It doesn’t sound to me as if you’re thrilled with that plan,” Chris observed.
“We already have enough problems with the children we have,” Daniel protested. “Annabeth has put our daughter aside.”
“What do you mean by ‘put aside’?” Chris asked cautiously.
“Annabeth has sent our little girl to live with my other wives and their daughters. Her excuse is that she needs to devote all her attention to the baby. I believe the real reason is that she dotes on the boy and has no use for a daughter.”
The librarian’s face took on a solemn expression. “That’s pretty cold.”
“I try to spend as much time as I can with the child but she feels the loss of her mother.”
“I like kids,” Chris remarked thoughtfully. “Of course, I don’t expect I’ll ever have any of my own but I like them anyway. It’s a real shame the way your wife is treating your little girl. You have to step in and do something about it.”
Daniel stood abruptly. In order to relieve his agitation, he began pacing around the room. “Yes, I know. I’ve been racking my brain for a way to help the child without incurring Annabeth’s wrath and making the situation worse.” He paused, staring blankly at one of the illuminated manuscripts. “Now you understand why I’ve been unable to concentrate on the task at hand.”
“I had no idea,” Chris said sympathetically. “When I see you in the library working by yourself, it’s easy to forget that you have this kind of baggage waiting for you at home.”
Daniel spread his arms wide, encompassing the entire room. “This library is my refuge. I cling to it like a life raft.” He wheeled about to face Chris. “You have no idea what this place means to me. What your friendship means to me!”
The librarian stood up and advanced toward the Scion. He placed his hands on Daniel’s shoulders. “I’m always here for you. Whatever you need.”
“Thank you,” Daniel murmured. Impulsively, he wrapped his arms around Chris. The librarian returned his embrace. They stood together that way for a long time, just holding one another. Daniel felt all his anxieties draining way. It was a rare experience for him to derive comfort from the touch of another person. He usually recoiled from physical contact of any kind. He couldn’t fathom the strange effect his friend had on him.
Eventually, Chris held him at arm’s length and searched his eyes. Daniel didn’t know what the librarian was looking for but apparently he didn’t find it. Chris released him. “I imagine, by the rules of the Nephilim, you’re doing pretty well for yourself. Three wives, four kids.”
Daniel returned to his seat. “I never wanted any of it. I would have been content to live like one of the medieval monks who penned these beautiful manuscripts. No wives, no children. Just my precious books.”
Chris returned to sit beside him. “What about your physical needs? Conjugal visits?”
Daniel flinched. “I could easily do without marital relations.”
The librarian raised a skeptical eyebrow. “So you’ve never been sexually attracted to anybody in your whole life?”
“I have never desired any woman in that way. Not once.”
“Maybe that’s because your interests lean in another direction,” Chris suggested quietly.
Daniel registered puzzlement. “I don’t know what you mean.”
The librarian grinned at his friend. “Oh Danny Boy, you’re a babe lost deep in the woods and you can’t even see the forest for the trees. Someday you and I are going to have a long talk about the birds and the bees and the fairies.”
“What?”
“You aren’t ready yet. You’ll know when it’s time for that conversation.”
“How on earth will I know that?” Daniel asked earnestly.
Chris gave a sly smile. “Trust me, you’ll know.”
Chapter 23—Steak Out
Chopper peered anxiously over the top of his menu toward the door of the restaurant. Eyeing the clock on the wall, he realized Leroy was ten minutes late. Just as he was starting to fret that his plan might be a bust, he saw the matre d’ threading his way down an aisle of linen-covered tables followed by a man in a western jacket and string tie. The matre d’ seated the new arrival opposite Bowdeen and silently handed him a menu before departing.
Hunt glared after him. “God damn fancy man in the penguin suit snatched my hat right off the top of my head.” He held up a claim check accusingly. “And he’s holdin’ it for ransom. I ain’t never seen the like!” Leroy swept a hand over the top of his head to make sure the wave in his hair hadn’t gotten mussed.
Chopper decided to ignore Leroy’s pique. “So how you been keepin�
�?”
The cowboy shrugged, “Can’t complain. Wouldn’t do no good anyhow.” He flipped the menu open and scanned the selections. His eyebrows rose. “Pretty high-toned establishment with prices like these.”
“Your money’s no good tonight, pard,” Bowdeen replied.
Hunt withdrew his attention from the menu long enough to treat his companion to a suspicious stare. “What’s the occasion?”
Bowdeen shrugged. “I feel like I owe you. This gig with the preacher lasted a lot longer than I expected. I made a bundle off it.”
A waiter arrived to take their drink orders.
Just as Bowdeen expected, Hunt ordered whiskey. The mercenary had called ahead to make sure the restaurant kept several bottles of the cowboy’s favorite brand on hand. Everything was proceeding according to plan.
“A bundle, huh?” Hunt asked. “What’s the old man got you doin’ now?”
“Weapons training at every compound between here and Siberia. On top of that, he had me set up surveillance equipment at all those places too.”
Hunt relaxed at the explanation. He chuckled appreciatively. “Brother, it sounds like he’s keepin’ you busier than a cat tryin’ to cover crap on a marble floor.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Bowdeen agreed jovially. “It’s all to the good though. More work means more pay. I figured taking you out for a steak dinner was the least I could do to thank you for hooking me up.”
Their drinks arrived. Leroy raised his glass. “Now that’s a proper ‘thank you’. I guess the last time I schooled you on manners, some of it sunk in.”
Bowdeen winced briefly at the memory of Hunt’s previous etiquette lesson but he offered no comment. Instead he raised his glass. “To flush times.” He took a small sip.
As expected, Leroy finished half his drink in one gulp.
They paused their conversation long enough to study the menu and place their orders. Two prime rib dinners with all the trimmings. When the waiter left, Leroy leaned in closer.
Into The Jaws Of The Lion (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 5) Page 13
