“No…the craftsmanship is too crude to be Munuorian,” Mereau said, “but it was made by someone familiar with our techniques…right down to the magnetic clasps.”
“Moon what?” Garnier asked.
“I imagine your experts are actually divided, Garnier. There must be some who question whether an ancient culture could have made such a piece of jewelry.” Mereau turned to Cesar. “Did you find the slash mark?”
“I found a slash mark, yes. Whether it is the slash mark is another question.”
“You talk in riddles!” Garnier’s voice trembled. “What about the slash mark?”
“Calmer, monsieur,” Mereau said. “Señor Perez will explain. I will be back shortly.”
“Where are you going?” Garnier said.
“To consult with le femme hystérique.”
“Why?”
“There are things I wish to know that only she can answer.”
CHAPTER 14: UNMASKING THE ENEMY
Banque Caledonienne
Noumea, New Caledonia
September 23
The room was quiet when Mereau entered. Pebbles was awake and sipping on water. Seated with her at the table were Jennifer and Sanjay. Anlon was leaning against the wall, staring down at his shoes.
From the look on Pebbles’ face when she turned toward him, Mereau could tell she was angry. He smiled at her but received no more than a tepid nod before she turned away and took another drink from the bottle. It was to be expected, he realized. Given the strength of the necklace’s gensae, its magnetic field, he supposed she felt its presence more than he did.
“You have news?” Anlon asked.
“Yes, I do,” Mereau said. “It is as we thought. The necklace is almost assuredly the one in Pebbles’ drawing. What’s more, I think I know why Citali wore it, and why Muran was hunting her. It was more than just a ceremonial piece.”
“Whoop-de-do,” Pebbles murmured. She turned Mereau’s way again. “Am I gonna get to see it or not?”
As he sat down across the table from her, he said, “I think there is a strong possibility Monsieur Garnier will appear at any moment to request an audience with you.”
From the change in her expression, the news appeared to come as a welcome surprise.
“Before he arrives, I have some questions for you…and for Sanjay.”
“Okay. Shoot.” Pebbles put aside the bottle and scooted her chair closer to the table.
“They may be painful to answer. I will try to ask them as delicately as I can.”
“Nothing could be more painful than the headache I have right now.”
“It is the gensae of the necklace. It is quite strong.”
Anlon sat down next to Mereau. “Gensae as in, the necklace is Munuorian?”
“Not quite, but I believe it may have been made for a Munuorian. If not that, it was commissioned, or possibly designed, by a Munuorian.” Mereau described the construction of the necklace, then said, “If I am not mistaken, the magnets inside the tiles were chipped from a meteorite — it would not surprise me to discover the meteorite was one of the thousands that showered the Earth during Munirvo’s passing.”
The most confused look at the table came from Sanjay. For his benefit, Mereau explained. As the asteroid passed, it flipped the planet upside down. In so doing, the asteroid disrupted Earth’s magnetic field and the Munuorian race’s unique ability to detect and interact with the field. The disruption, combined with the ravaging of the food sources that nourished that ability, Mereau told him, was responsible for the eventual extinction of his people…and Mereau’s own death.
“We had lived our whole lives cognizant of magnetic currents in the air, land and sea. We sensed the magnetism of all living things. We relied on that sixth sense more than we did our eyes and ears. Overnight, everything we knew about the field changed. It was like going to sleep in a forest where you knew every tree, rock and hill…and then waking up in a desert of endless sand.
“And in that desert, there was no food. At least, no food with the nutrients necessary to maintain our gensae, our magnetic energy. It would be like, if today, the human race suddenly lost its immune system. In short order, disease would ravage the world’s population. So it was with us…with me…”
Mereau found it hard to finish his sentence. Too many memories of Munirvo’s aftermath flowed through his mind. He stared blindly at the surface of the table as visions of the bitter struggle to survive raced by. Thankfully, a question from Anlon cut short the nightmarish scenes.
“So, you think the necklace was made for one of your people, a Munirvo survivor, to help her — or him — interact with the magnetic field.”
“I can see no other explanation for creating such a necklace,” Mereau said. “It would have acted like a sonar of sorts, projecting magnetism that echoed back when it interacted with the field around the wearer. But the wearer would have had to possess some level of gensae already in order for the necklace to have been of value.”
“How could Citali have stood it?” Pebbles asked. She aggressively rubbed her temples. “If you’re right, and what’s causing my headache is the necklace, I can’t imagine having it around my neck all the time.”
Mereau shrugged. “Perhaps she built up a tolerance over time. Or perhaps, she did not wear it all the time…which leads to the first of my questions. In your visions of Citali’s memories, is she always wearing the necklace?”
“I don’t know. There are some dreams, some memories, where she feels for it around her neck, and I do remember her putting it on when she got out of bed in the last replay of the temple dream,” Pebbles said. She looked to Jennifer. “Do you recall other mentions of it in my journals?”
“Nope. Matter of fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve never mentioned her feeling for the necklace before, or about her putting it on.” Jennifer turned from Pebbles to look at Mereau. “I want to make sure I get this straight. You’re thinking Citali was a Munuorian?”
“In a way, yes. A descendent of one, however far removed.” Mereau directed his attention back to Pebbles. “In your recitation of the temple dream, you said Citali was called Seer by some, Keeper by others. In Muran’s manifesto, the passage we think is linked to Citali, she is referred to as an oracle.”
Pebbles stared at him. “She could read the magnetic field. She could see it.”
“A valuable skill to have where Paracas is situated,” Anlon said. “Tropical depressions brewing near the coast, she would have detected them long before they turned into hurricanes. Same with tremblors ahead of earthquakes or volcanic eruptions.”
Mereau nodded. “And she would have sensed the coming of the change in seasons, the approach of large forces, the presence of large herds or schools of fish. Any unusual ripple in the field would have caught the attention of her gensae. Unfortunately, it appears her gensae caught the attention of Muran.”
There was a knock at the door. When it cracked open, the head of Garnier appeared. Mereau suppressed a smile when he saw the curator’s eyes light up upon spotting Pebbles. Moments later, she was on her way to see the necklace. As Mereau stood to follow them, Sanjay said, “What about your other questions?”
“They will have to wait. I must be there when her visions begin.”
With each step closer to the room with the necklace, the throbbing in Pebbles’ head intensified. Spots began to dot her vision and she felt flush. As she squinted to shield her eyes from the brightness of the hallway lights, Mereau, walking beside her, took hold of her arm and said, “It’s only a little farther.”
“Are you feeling this too?”
“Yes, but it is not as strong to me. The gensae in old Foucault’s body is not as potent as that which flows through you.”
Garnier must have noticed her discomfort, for he asked if she was feeling ill again. Mereau interceded and explained she was feeling the effects of the necklace’s magnetism. “She is very sensitive to strong magnetic fields.”
Through the open door
ahead, Pebbles spied Cesar speaking with the bank manager. There were smiles on their faces and their conversation appeared relaxed and cordial. The sight calmed Pebbles. She’d had enough of confrontations for one day.
When they reached the doorway, Mereau and Garnier stepped aside to let her enter the room first, but Cesar stepped out and asked to speak to Pebbles alone. “It will only take a moment.”
While the other men entered the room, Cesar led Pebbles to a small nook of cubicles wedged between two offices. Dizzy and weak, Pebbles slid onto the first chair she spotted. Cesar pulled another alongside and sat facing her.
“How are you feeling?” Cesar asked, his face displaying concern.
“I’m a little woozy right now.” She leaned close and whispered. “I’m also scared. What happens if I go into another trance?”
“Not to worry. I have told Garnier it is likely. He is at peace with the possibility.”
“What’s going on? Why’s he suddenly so accommodating?”
“He sees profit in cooperating.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“I showed him a picture of the oasis sketch.”
“You did what?”
“The redacted version Anlon sent me. I wanted him to see the necklace and Citali’s unusual head…and the Candelabra.”
It had been important for two reasons, Cesar explained: to persuade Garnier of Pebbles’ psychic abilities, and to show the curator how Cesar arrived at a possible link between Citali, the necklace and the Paracas culture.
“I would have shown him the passage from Muran’s manifesto to buttress the link, but no one takes her journal seriously. To them, it is fiction. The ravings of a lunatic,” Cesar said. “In any event, it was not necessary. Garnier was thrilled.”
Pebbles frowned. “Why?”
“The necklace is a mystery piece. As much as he tries to pretend it is valuable, he has no proof it is ancient. Therefore, it is unlikely it would fetch a high price at auction. We have provided him with a possible history he can attach to the necklace. It is a weak history at the moment, and he knows it, but he now sees an incentive to help us learn more about the necklace. And I’ve told him, in no uncertain terms, that you are the key to discovering more about the piece.”
“And he bought that?”
“Hook, line and sinker.” Cesar smiled and patted her shoulder. “So, fear not, if a vision comes. Learn as much as you can.”
“Did Mereau tell Garnier about the connection with the Munuorians?”
“Briefly, and not in much detail.” Cesar looked up. “Ah, Garnier approaches. Come, it is time.”
One foot into the room, the second she laid eyes on the necklace, visions began to flash through Pebbles’ mind. They were snippets, no more than a few seconds each.
…she was floating down a river lit by torches on both sides, unseen people chanting…a woman kneeling before her in the temple, her head bowed…crawling through jungle vines to reach a hidden cave…standing at the prow of a ship as it cut through dark waters…a woman straddling her, knife poised to strike…
Pebbles gasped and staggered backward against the wall, her hands flailing to knock away the knife. Suddenly aware of her surroundings, she shot looks at Mereau and Cesar. “Holy shit!”
“You have had visions?” Garnier queried.
“A jumble of them.”
“Take the necklace,” Mereau said.
In unison, Pebbles and Garnier said, “What?”
“Non! There is to be no touching!” said Garnier.
“How else is she to put it on?” Mereau asked in a matter-of-fact tone.
More visions cycled through Pebbles’ mind.
…arms raised above her head, something heavy in her hands. Before her, hundreds of people bowing…seated around a campfire among a circle of people, listening to a man talk — a man with an elongated head…pushing her hand against a rock wall, the wall trembling…the cackle of the woman slicing her neck…
Pebbles staggered forward and braced herself against the table. Face dripping with perspiration, she listened to Mereau shouting at Garnier.
“Tell me this, monsieur. Have you been able to unclasp the necklace?”
She looked over at Garnier. The red-faced man with the pinched lips said nothing.
“Yes, it is as I thought,” Mereau said. “You have tried many ways, I expect. You and your experts. But none have worked. The magnetism is too strong, the locking mechanism beyond your or their comprehension. If nothing else, let mademoiselle unclasp it for you.”
Pebbles gazed at Mereau. “What are you talking about? I don’t know how to —”
“I will instruct you,” said the curt Mereau. “What say you, Garnier?”
Her eyes traveled back to the necklace, now within hand’s reach. Under the harsh glow of the room’s fluorescent lights, it looked pale, faded, as if someone had sucked the life out of the gold. Yet her fingers prickled from its energy.
“What if she damages it?”
“She will not. You will be shocked at the ease with which she opens it.”
As she stared at the symbols on the tiles, on came another rush of visions.
…a finger dipping in gold paint and then swirling a design on her cheek…sloshing in mud as hands ripped away her clothes…letting go of the bag in the river…her face shoved into the riverbank…clawing at the mud, desperate to breathe…
More gasping. Pebbles could taste the mud in her mouth. Through parched lips, she begged for water. Hands guided her onto a seat. A bottled water touched against her lips. She was aware now of Cesar’s voice. “Sip it slowly…don’t gulp.”
Her eyes fluttered open as she sipped. The necklace was gone from the table. She darted her head around, dribbling water down the front of her shirt. “Where is it? Where did it go?”
It was still close by, for her head still throbbed, her fingers still prickled. Mereau moved into view. He sat on the edge of the table and outstretched a hand. The necklace dangled around it.
“You do not pull. To separate the two ends, you slide each end in opposite directions, one over the other. But, first, you must align the release. You cannot see it. You can only feel it. The ends will start to vibrate as you twist them. Do it slowly. Until your fingers are used to the sensations, you must move them slowly. The vibration will intensify as you get closer to lining up the release. There will be an unmistakable pulse when it releases. Then slide the two ends apart.”
Mereau handed Pebbles the necklace. The rumbling in her chest started immediately. The sound of a woman cackling echoed in her ears. Pebbles looked up at Mereau, her eyes pleading forgiveness. “I’m sorry…I can’t. It’s Muran…she’s coming.”
In a lightning-quick motion, Mereau took up the necklace, separated the clasps and wrapped it around Pebbles’ neck. When the clasps clicked closed again, he let go, allowing the necklace to drape around her neck. As Pebbles began to tremble, Mereau leaned forward and whispered, “Let her come. She cannot harm you now.”
In the darkness, the sounds of the battle echoed in the clearing. Fire burned all around. Pinned to the ground by the masked woman, Citali grappled for control of the knife. Despite her size advantage over the woman, however, she was too weakened from the chase. The blade inched closer and closer to her neck. The masked woman growled. “Last chance. Where are they? What have you done with them?”
“You are too late…you will never have them.”
The woman pushed harder on the knife, and Citali’s strength failed. The blade plunged into her neck. Citali cried out and clawed at the hand, driving the knife deeper. The woman cackled. “No matter. I will find them on my own…and I will parade your head through the ashes of your city.”
Citali felt a tug on her necklace. A surge of anger spiked inside. She balled her fists and pummeled the woman’s mask, knocking it from her face.
Do not give up! Do not let her take it from you!
The snarling woman ripped out the knife
. As she raised it to strike again, Citali felt around for the mask, snatched it up and swung it at the hand with the knife. A flash of light crossed Citali’s vision and she felt the woman on top of her shudder. Looking up, she could not believe her eyes. A flaming arrow had pierced her attacker. The expression on the stricken woman’s face showed she was just as stunned as Citali. They both paused their struggle and stared at the flaming shaft sticking out of the woman’s abdomen. Citali broke out of the daze first, knocking the woman away with the aid of the mask and scrambling to her feet. Citali clasped a hand on the searing pain in her neck and started to dash toward the edge of the clearing.
Run! Go! Go! Go!
But she made it only a few steps before she was tackled to the ground once again. She could smell burning flesh as her attacker burrowed Citali’s face into the soil. She felt the woman’s knife glide under her chin, slashing. But the blade’s stroke was thwarted by the necklace. Another arrow must have hit the woman, for Citali heard her groan and felt her body tremble.
Wasting no time, Citali squirmed from beneath the woman only to be stopped by a sharp, slicing pain in her back. Her yelp was brief, for she could not breathe. She flailed her arms and gasped for air. She felt the necklace jiggle and slide free. The weight atop her vanished. Her senses began to fade…the pain in her neck and back…the shouts of men urging retreat…the acrid smell of smoke…the taste of blood…the woman’s cackle…they all dimmed until Citali teetered on the edge of dreamless oblivion.
It is over. I have failed.
Pebbles muttered two words and passed out.
“What did she say?” asked Garnier.
As Mereau reached to stop Pebbles from falling from the chair, he spoke to Cesar. “Go get Anlon, the others.”
Garnier demanded answers. “What is happening? Is she ill?”
“She will be fine.” Mereau eyed the security guard. “Help me get her out of the chair, lay her on the floor.”
“Be careful! Do not damage the necklace,” said Garnier.
As the two men gently lowered Pebbles to the floor, Mereau shouted, “To the depths with your cursed necklace.”
Priestess of Paracas Page 17
