The Arkana Mysteries Boxed Set

by N. S. Wikarski

“What is this?” The pythia made a move to touch the surface.

  “Neat, isn’t it?” Maddie asked. “Those are quartz crystal panels, but they’re cut really thin so they can be backlit. You can adjust the level of the light to whatever suits you.” The operations director moved the switch on the wall, and the light behind the crystal panels dimmed.

  Cassie noted that the water must be pumped from behind the sheets of rock somehow so that it fell into trenches at the base of the walls before being pumped back upward.

  “You can adjust the flow of the water and the ceiling light too,” Maddie added.

  Cassie glanced up. Like the ceiling in the main room of the vault, this one had been engineered to mimic natural daylight and open sky, clouds and all. When Maddie picked up a remote control and aimed it at the ceiling, the overhead sky grew dark, and the moon and stars appeared.

  “That is freaking awesome!” Cassie stood gaping upward while Maddie continued the tour.

  “Sybil said the crystals and flowing water boosted her ability to channel info from the artifacts she touched—something about negative ions. I breezed out when she was trying to explain it to me—some pythia thing about vibrations. Maybe you understand it.”

  “Not sure I do,” Cassie murmured, still gawking at the ceiling, “but it really is amazing.”

  Maddie gently steered the pythia to face the back of the room. “And over here is Faye’s contribution to the design. She said it would help you.”

  The two came to stand in front of a thin slab of black stone supported by pillars on either end. It was a desk of some kind because a chair was parked behind it.

  Cassie ran her hand over the dark polished surface and instantly felt a stabilizing sensation. “I know what this is!” she exclaimed excitedly. “It’s the same as the necklace Faye gave me. See?” She held up a black stone pendant. “The desk must be made of obsidian. Faye called it a ‘grounding stone.’ It’s supposed to help keep me from getting psychically messed up when I touch a tainted artifact.”

  “Hmmm,” Maddie said. “Grounding, huh? Never heard of that before. Still, it’s a nice-looking desk. Very post-modern. Maybe I’ll get one like it for myself.”

  Cassie ran both hands across the desk, savoring the feeling of steadiness it gave her. “I love it,” she said simply.

  Maddie shook her head, amused. “It must be a pythia thing.”

  Abruptly the pythia turned and asked, “But what am I supposed to do here?”

  “What all pythias do when they aren’t globe-trotting and dodging fanatical cults who want to kill them—authenticating relics. Quite a backlog has been piling up ever since you started.”

  “But why didn’t you tell me this was here?”

  The operations director looked at the floor, seemingly uncomfortable with the question. “At first, Faye and I worried that it was too soon to show you this. I mean, right after your sister’s death, this might have triggered a lot of bad associations for you, so we thought we’d wait until you had a little training first. And then all hell broke loose, and the relic hunt started. You haven’t been around much since. No time to retrieve priceless artifacts and hold down a desk job too.”

  “It looks like I’ll have a little down time now,” Cassie offered.

  “Not as much as you might imagine,” a voice called out. Griffin was standing in the open doorway with Erik close behind.

  “What?” both women asked at once.

  “He thinks he’s figured out part of the riddle,” Erik offered as the two visitors advanced into the center of the room.

  “Guys, isn’t this fantastic?” Cassie asked, still entranced with her new work space.

  “Yeah, it is a pretty cool office,” Erik conceded, “but you might not get to enjoy it for long.”

  “So, what’s up?” Maddie asked, folding her arms and leaning against Cassie’s obsidian desk.

  Griffin tapped a large book he was holding. “I believe I’ve solved at least one part of our relic riddle.”

  “That’s great,” Cassie said with relief. “I was beginning to worry.”

  “We all were,” Maddie muttered.

  “It’s the line which says, ‘Let Eurus fill the sails for twelve days.’”

  “Well, we know what part of that means already,” Erik said. “We’re going to have to travel by ship somewhere for twelve days.”

  “Correct,” the scrivener averred. “But the word which interests me most in that line is ‘Eurus.’”

  “So, what does it mean already?” Cassie asked eagerly.

  “It’s a reference to wind.”

  “Wind?” the pythia repeated. “That isn’t a big surprise. I mean wind would have to fill sails, right?”

  “Yes, but it’s a particular type of wind,” Griffin continued. He laid the volume flat on the desk and opened it to a page marked with a post-it sticker. The others clustered around to take a look. “See here.” He pointed to an illustration of several different figures with cheeks puffed out, blowing air in various directions. “In Greek mythology, the four cardinal directions were associated with the wind gods or anemoi. Each one had a specific set of characteristics and a name. The cold north wind which blew during the winter was Boreas, the light west wind of spring and summer was Zephyrus, the south wind which brought summer storms was Notus, and the east wind which had no seasonal association at all was Eurus.”

  “Why would the riddle refer to Greek wind names?” Maddie wondered.

  “That’s a fair question,” Griffin conceded, “and part of the reason I didn’t recognize the allusion at once. These gods are part of overlord mythology, but I suspect their existence predates the Greeks. Mycenean culture may well have used the same pantheon of wind gods as did the Greeks and later the Romans. Since Linear B is a Mycenean script, it would make sense to refer to Mycenean divinities in this context.”

  “So, we’re supposed to sail east from somewhere for twelve days?” Erik asked doubtfully.

  “Quite the reverse,” Griffin said, putting the book down. “If Eurus is filling the sails, then he’s pushing the ship westward.”

  “What’s the season when the prevailing wind in the Mediterranean is from the east?” Maddie asked.

  “There isn’t one,” Griffin said flatly.

  “What?” The operations director sounded puzzled and slightly irritated.

  “In this instance, I believe we’re dealing with a metaphorical wind.”

  “Never heard of one of those before,” Erik mumbled under his breath.

  Griffin hadn’t heard him and continued his explanation. “You see, the east wind never prevails at any time of year in the Mediterranean. That’s why I believe this is an elaborate way of saying, ‘travel westward for twelve days.’”

  “Yeah, but starting from where?” Cassie objected. “From Crete?”

  Griffin scowled in concentration for a moment. “It would make more sense if we proceed from the location of the last recovered relic. After all, as we move farther afield on this quest, we can’t very well keep running back to Crete as a starting point, can we?”

  Cassie shrugged. “I suppose not.”

  “So, we have to start counting from the top of Mount Ida?” Erik asked.

  Griffin had a ready response. “No, I suspect we should start from the sea coast of Turkey. Ida is very close to the coast. Edremit might be an appropriate starting point.”

  “Head west from Turkey for twelve days,” Cassie murmured, trying to envision the journey. “Where would that take us?”

  Griffin sighed. “Ah, there’s the rub.”

  All three of his listeners looked at him.

  “How fast are we travelling?” the Brit challenged.

  “I get it,” Cassie replied. “A speed boat could cover a lot of ground, er, water but a sailing ship could get stuck if there wasn’t any wind to push it.”

  “Precisely, dear girl,” Griffin beamed. “My, you are coming along,
aren’t you?”

  “Jeez, I’m not a pet monkey,” Cassie objected. She darted a quick glance at Erik who was chuckling. “Shut up,” she growled at him.

  “You’re doing alright, kiddo. Don’t let him get to you.” Maddie shot Erik a dirty look.

  He immediately changed the subject. “And we can’t forget about wind speed. If it’s twenty-five knots, that ship’s gonna fly. If it’s one knot, it could sit still for twelve days.”

  “The problem would also be compounded by the size of the vessel,” Griffin added. “Are we dealing with a sailing ship or a galley with oarsmen who might assist if the wind proved unfavorable? How large a ship? How many sails? Would it be a merchant vessel which would move more slowly because of its cargo or a lighter skiff?” The scrivener sighed. “The permutations are virtually endless.”

  “Try to narrow it down to just this side of infinity,” Maddie instructed impatiently.

  “That’s precisely what I intend to do,” Griffin agreed. “But alas, it will take a little more time to sort it all out.”

  “So, at this point, we have to settle for taking Horace Greeley’s advice,” Cassie summed up their dilemma.

  They all turned to stare at her.

  “Go west, dude, go west,” she said.

  Chapter 8 – Freedom Rider

  Hannah pressed her cheek against the carpeting in the trunk of Daniel’s car. Even though she knew nobody outside could hear her, she was almost afraid to breathe. She felt the vehicle slow and then come to a complete stop. They must be at the front gate. She could hear one of the sentries approaching. His boots made a crunching sound on the gravel outside. She heard the rumble of two male voices but couldn’t distinguish the words they were saying. Her heart hammered uncontrollably when she heard the man’s boots circling the back of the vehicle. He rested his hand briefly on the trunk and then pounded it twice with his hand. Hannah thought she was going to faint, but then the car lurched forward. Apparently, the pounding was only a sign from the guard that Daniel should proceed.

  The car accelerated, and she could no longer hear the sound of gravel under the tires. They must be on a blacktop road now. That was it then; she was out of the compound. She was free. She repeated the word “free” to herself with a growing sense of dread. Free also meant alone. All alone in the Fallen Lands. No matter how diligently she had prepared and rehearsed herself for this experience, it was still a daunting prospect.

  The diviner had always told them that the outer world was evil—that the people were all corrupt. Like Sodom and Gomorrah in the scriptures. It was a measure of her desperation that she would willingly exchange such a devilish place for the gated world she had inhabited all her life.

  Lost in these nervous thoughts, she didn’t notice the miles flying by, carrying her away from her past and from everything familiar. She remembered her last miserable night with Abraham, shutting down her senses while he groped and gasped. That steeled her resolve. She was never going back. Not even if they tried to kill her.

  After a while, the car slowed. She could smell exhaust fumes. That must mean they were surrounded by other vehicles. The noise of other engines grew louder, and the moments the car spent idling grew more frequent. Daniel had explained that as they approached the great city, there would be more traffic and more delays. She wasn’t to be afraid. This was all normal. Two hours must have passed before the car drew up to their planned destination. She heard the engine shut down and footsteps hurrying toward the trunk.

  The lid opened. “Are you alright?” Daniel’s face peered down at her.

  She blinked in the glare of daylight. It was almost blinding after her hours in the dark. “Yes, I’m fine.” She struggled to sit up, but her legs had gone to sleep. She massaged them and then awkwardly clambered out. “Are we in the city now?”

  Daniel glanced behind him apprehensively. “Yes, we’re in what the Fallen call an alley. There isn’t much traffic here. Nobody will notice you getting out. I want you to come and sit in the front seat with me. We’re going to a store where you can get some Fallen garb. You’ll attract too much notice dressed as you are.”

  Hannah looked down at the grey smock and white apron which were the proper attire for all married women in the Nephilim compound. It would feel strange to wear some other type of clothing. She walked to the passenger side of the car and got in.

  “We also have to do something about your hair,” the scion commented.

  In alarm, Hannah’s hands flew to the braids coiled tightly around her skull. “Why, what’s wrong with my hair?”

  “It’s a very unusual style among the Fallen. It might make you stand out, and we don’t want anybody noticing you.” He helped her loosen the braids. When her hair fell free, he scowled. “This will never do. Your hair is much too long. They’ll spot that right away.” He reached into the glove compartment. “Lucky I thought to bring these.” He showed her a pair of scissors. “Now turn your back to me,” he instructed.

  “You won’t cut it all off, will you?” she asked worriedly.

  “No, just enough so that you’ll blend in.” He took the rope of hair and deftly removed several inches. It now hung just below her shoulders. Surveying his work, he said, “There, that’s better.”

  She glanced at the shorn locks in his hands. “What will you do with that?”

  “Get rid of it as soon as I can.”

  “Oh,” she said a bit sadly.

  “Now let’s get you some clothing.” Daniel drove for about ten minutes more through city streets. She had never seen the like before. Had never, in fact, spent a single moment of her existence outside of one enclosure or another. It was all strange and fascinating. She peered curiously at the faces of people walking along on what were called sidewalks. They didn’t appear terrible or evil to her. In fact, they looked much like the faces that surrounded her at the compound, except that many of them were smiling as they chatted with one another.

  “We’re here,” Daniel announced as he cautiously maneuvered the car into a space by the sidewalk.

  They had parked in front of a building that bore a sign reading “Salvation Army.”

  “You brought me to a military store?” Hannah asked in surprise. “Is this where soldiers buy their supplies?”

  Daniel laughed out loud. It was the first time she had ever heard him laugh. The sound seemed to surprise even him. “No, it’s just a name. This is an organization that’s called a ‘charity.’ It’s where people who have a great deal of money give away clothes and other things to people who have less.”

  “That’s very nice of them,” she said uncertainly, “but doesn’t their leader provide for everybody’s needs?”

  “It doesn’t work that way in the Fallen Lands. They have no Father Abraham to dole out supplies.”

  They entered the glass double doors, and Hannah’s eyes immediately traveled to the racks and racks of women’s clothing in every color of the rainbow. “Can I have something in red?” she asked eagerly.

  “I don’t think you should.” The scion sounded worried. “Bright colors might attract too much attention to you. It’s better to find something dark and plain.”

  They spent an hour while she tried on various garments. She begged him to let her try on a pink blouse just to see what it felt like to wear something so colorful. He indulged her fancy, but eventually she was persuaded to settle on pants called blue jeans and a tan camp shirt with sleeves that rolled up and buttoned. She had never worn long pants before. Women weren’t allowed to do so among the Nephilim. She also selected a nightgown and some shoes made of rubber and cloth. Daniel called them “jogging shoes.”

  He paid for the purchases from a thick roll of green paper he kept in his pocket. Then they got back in the car and drove through more city traffic before parking again. This time they got out in front of a red brick building with white columns in front. Daniel told her it was a “Home for Unwed Mothers.”

  “But I
am lawfully married,” she objected.

  “They can’t know that, or they won’t take you in,” he whispered. “Just remember the story we rehearsed, and you’ll be alright. I can’t go inside with you. Nobody must know I helped you escape. If Father sends someone to look for you, there may be questions about who you were with when you arrived here.”

  Hannah felt a surge of panic shoot through her. It never occurred to her that Abraham might send someone to the Fallen Lands to find her. “Do you think he will?” she asked in a frightened voice.

  Daniel sighed. “I’m quite sure he will.” He tried to give her a confident smile. “But I don’t believe he’ll come to this place. At least not right away. The city is very, very large and there are many such shelters.”

  “It’s only a matter of time,” she whispered.

  “No, you mustn’t think like that. I deliberately did what I could to throw them off—to buy you more time. Yesterday night I dug a hole by the back fence to make it look as if you’d escaped that way. They’ll be looking for you out in the countryside. That should keep them occupied for some time. Then once the baby comes, you can move away—go wherever you like. It will be much harder to find you then.”

  She took him by the hand. “Daniel, why don’t you come with me? Run away too. You know you don’t belong with them anymore either.”

  His face turned ashen at her words. “That’s impossible.”

  “Why?” she asked plaintively. “We could help each other to make our way through this strange world.”

  “I... I’m not ready for such a change,” he protested.

  “Is it because of your father’s relic quest? You know you don’t believe in what he’s doing.”

  Daniel shook his head sadly. “No, that’s not it. My life inside isn’t as hard as yours has been. I understand why you need to go, but for me it’s different. I’m not ready to turn my back on everything. Not yet anyway.”

  “How bad does it have to get before you finally walk away?” she asked quietly.

  He didn’t answer and avoided her eyes.

  She realized it was useless to argue with him. She let go of his hand.