The Arkana Mysteries Boxed Set

by N. S. Wikarski

“Yeah, I think so.” Cassie rubbed her forehead and looked down at her palm. “I thought I might still be bleeding,” she murmured, a little disoriented.

  “Bleeding!” Griffin echoed. He caught hold of her hand to examine it. Apparently relieved to find no damage, he asked, “What happened to you?”

  Cassie made an effort to get her eyes in focus. “I think I just dropped acid—Stone Age style. There was a shaman, and she mashed up a plant and rubbed the juice into cuts on her forehead. It must have been some kind of drug because we took a doozy of a psychedelic trip.”

  She then related the entire experience to her amazed colleagues.

  “How extraordinary,” Griffin commented when she was done.

  “I’ll say,” Bobbye agreed. “We had no idea what kind of rituals were practiced here, but you just gave us details we could never have gotten on our own.”

  Erik inched a little closer and rested his hand on Cassie’s shoulder. Staring intently at her face, he asked, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  She gave a small laugh. “This wasn’t like what happened in Turkey. It was strange but not scary or awful.”

  He let his arm drop and nodded curtly. “OK, then.”

  “It’s interesting that you mentioned the Oracle Chamber,” Bobbye said, half to herself. “I don’t think I told any of you about that.”

  “The what now?” Cassie was still struggling to ground herself in the present moment.

  “There’s a small chamber carved out of the rock on the opposite side of the python. I’ll show you.”

  All four of them stood up and walked to the wall beside the massive sculpture. Bobbye crouched down. “You see? Right here.”

  The trio peered into the shadows. There was still enough natural daylight to illuminate a small tunnel which ran parallel to the snake’s body and traveled into the back wall of the cave. The end of the tunnel had been squared off in such a way that it couldn’t be mistaken for a natural rock formation.

  “Yeah,” Cassie confirmed. “That’s where I was. I mean, where she was.”

  Bobbye straightened back up. “It’s been called the Oracle Chamber because there’s a theory that the shaman would have spoken as the voice of the python from that location.”

  “She didn’t so much speak as listen,” Cassie said. “She was listening for the voice inside the stone.”

  “The rock that whispers,” Griffin murmured. “We’ve heard of that notion before. The Sage Stone itself is reputed to whisper messages to those who are sensitive enough to hear its voice.”

  Cassie barely registered his words. She was having a shocking revelation of her own. “Oh, my goddess!” she exclaimed and sank to her knees. The others crouched down around her, concerned.

  “What is it? Erik asked tensely.

  She looked at the three faces scrutinizing hers. “Don’t worry. I’m fine. I just realized something amazing.” She settled back into a cross-legged position.

  Her companions relaxed their vigilance and seated themselves on the ground around her, waiting for an explanation.

  Cassie stared off into space and began. “The very first object I validated was a bowl that belonged to the Oracle of Delphi. When I connected with her spirit, I found her sitting underground in a cave and she was breathing some fumes that put her into a trance. Faye told me that the place I saw in my vision was called the Oracle Chamber. It was once the mythological home of a giant female python who was the daughter of the earth goddess. She protected the omphalos stone at the center of the earth and also the priestess who made her prophecies in the chamber. The python and the priestess served the goddess there for thousands of years until the overlord god Apollo killed the snake and took over the shrine. He couldn’t get rid of the priestess though because the people would have rebelled. So, she continued to foretell the future in the Oracle Chamber and, because of the snake who used to guard her, she was always called a Pythoness.”

  “Or as we know her today, a pythia,” Griffin added.

  Cassie nodded solemnly, still gazing off into the distance. “It all survived,” she whispered, half to herself. ‘Over seventy thousand years. The python, the priestess, and the secret chamber.”

  “Yes, I see what you mean,” Griffin agreed eagerly. “It’s remarkable when one considers the temporal and geographic distances involved, that a ritual originating in Africa seventy thousand years ago should manage to find its way, almost intact, to classical Greece.”

  “It seems to me,” Bobbye chimed in, “that the combination of the python, the priestess, and the secret chamber must be so deeply ingrained in our collective unconscious that nothing could dislodge it. Not time, not distance, and not even the encroachment of overlord mythology.”

  “Like Cass said,” Erik added. “What happened in this place is beyond ancient.”

  Cassie shook herself out of her reverie and gazed at her colleagues. “It’s something more than just an archetype or just ancient. When I validated the Python Stone, I did something a lot more important—to me anyway.”

  They all gave her a puzzled look.

  She beamed back at them. “I think I came face to face with my psychic ancestor—the first pythia.”

  Chapter 11—Tea and Rookies

  Faye watched as the waitress poured her cup of tea and set the pot down on the table along with a platter of small cakes, assorted cookies, and crustless sandwiches.

  The old woman sighed and consulted the clock on the wall. 3:30. He was late. As she took her first sip of the steaming beverage, the door to the cafe swung open to let in a cold blast of early spring air and Zachary along with it.

  Faye’s descendent headed straight for her table and threw his backpack on the floor beside his chair. “Hey, Gamma, how’s it going?”

  He sat down and without ceremony began piling an empty snack plate with pastries.

  Faye poured him a cup of tea. “This will help warm you up,” she suggested.

  “Thanks.” He consumed half a cup at one gulp.

  The old woman witnessed his gustatory performance in silence for a few moments. With an amused smile, she remarked, “I believe there are starving children in India who would wolf down their food less quickly.”

  Zachary stopped in mid-bite. He swallowed hard. “Sorry, Gamma, but I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

  “No food for an entire three hours? Well, I suppose you’re still a growing boy.” She chuckled indulgently. “Please do chew your food more thoroughly, dear. It aids digestion.”

  The boy’s ravenous appetite slowed once he finished his second helping. Shifting his attention to his ancestor, he exclaimed, “Wow, Gamma, you clean up really nice!”

  “Clean up?”

  “I... uh... I... That’s a compliment. I never get to see you all dressed up.”

  The old woman adjusted the rhinestone brooch on her jacket. “I don’t often get the opportunity to show off my good clothes. Thank you for noticing. I feel it’s important to look one’s best in public.”

  Zach’s restless gaze was now scanning the porcelain tea cups, linen tablecloths, and liveried wait staff. “I thought we were just gonna hang out at a fast food restaurant.”

  “As you young people would say nowadays, I don’t do fast food.” Faye helped herself to a cucumber sandwich. “A meal is meant to be tasted and savored, not inhaled.” Her eyes surveyed the cafe. “I think high tea is a most civilized way to conduct a conversation.” She noted that the other patrons were all engrossed in their own affairs. So much the better.

  Focusing on her descendent, she asked, “I assume you wanted to meet away from my home in order to discuss something about Hannah?”

  Zach blushed at the unexpected mention of the girl’s name. “No, not exactly.” He dusted crumbs off his mouth. “I wanted to talk about some other stuff too.”

  “Such as?” The old woman leaned back in her chair.

  Zach peeked furtively at the other diners. “About y
our side business.”

  There was a mischievous gleam in Faye’s eye when she asked, “What side business would that be, dear?”

  “You know.” He leaned forward and dipped his head slightly. “Your ‘people.’” He made air quotes around the word “people.”

  “I suppose I did promise to give you some information about my group.”

  “Hey, I held up my end of the bargain. I’ve been tutoring Hannah all winter. Not that I mind.” Both his arms flew up in the air in protest. “But you did say you’d throw me a bone.”

  “I’m sure I said no such thing,” Faye protested good-humoredly.

  “Well, maybe not exactly in those words but you get the idea. C’mon, Gamma!” he wheedled.

  “Alright, alright.” Faye lowered her voice. “I will answer three questions today and three questions only.”

  “Great!” Zach exclaimed eagerly. “Let’s start small since I already know you aren’t gonna give me the whole scoop up front.”

  “Very wise of you,” Faye agreed. She poured them both another cup of tea while the boy considered his first question.

  When he began to speak, his tone was pensive. “Spending so much time with Hannah got me to thinking about the people she used to live with. That crazy cult and especially the old guy she was married to. He went to a whole lot of trouble to get this ancient whatsit that your group is chasing too. He even killed people to do it. So, here’s the question. What does he want it for?”

  Faye sighed. “We don’t know.”

  Zach’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s it? That’s your answer? I wasted one question on that?”

  “No, dear. I’ll give you the background on the artifact.” Faye pulled her chair up closer to the table so as not to be overheard. “There are five relics scattered all over the globe that point to its location. Each one is inscribed with a clue to find the next one. All five must be retrieved in sequence to find the ultimate prize—a legendary object called the Sage Stone. Some people in my organization think it’s mythical—like the Holy Grail. However, the evidence we’ve turned up so far suggests that it’s quite real and was hidden about three thousand years ago. It is reputed to have some sort of mystical power though I myself don’t credit that rumor. Sacred objects only have meaning to the people who believe in them. It’s the power of belief that imbues them with whatever properties they are reputed to possess.”

  “Sounds like that preacher believes it’s got some major mojo,” Zach observed.

  “Yes, I’m sure he does. Once my retrieval team has located it, we intend to substitute a forgery for him to find.”

  “One that he thinks is real,” the boy added uncertainly.

  “One that he thinks is real,” Faye concurred.

  Zach was silent for several seconds puzzling over something. He unconsciously reached for another tea cake.

  “I appear to have lost you somewhere, dear,” the old woman remarked gently.

  The boy frowned in concentration before answering. “No, I was just thinking. If what you say is right and this Sage Stone only has power because he believes in it, then it wouldn’t matter if you gave him a fake. He’d still believe he had the real deal and he’d go ahead with whatever mayhem he wanted to cause with it. Right?”

  Faye stared at her descendent in shocked silence.

  Zach waved his hand in front of the old woman’s face. “Gamma? Are you having a stroke or something?”

  She laughed ruefully. “That was an excellent second question. It’s given me quite a turn. You’re absolutely correct, of course. My council and I hadn’t considered the diviner’s faith in the forgery. Perhaps because we’re so close to the problem, we couldn’t see the obvious hitch in our plan.” She paused to give him an affectionate glance. “You really are a remarkable boy, Zachary. My instincts were correct in bringing you into the Arkana.”

  He pounced on the word. “The Arkana! Is that what your group is called?”

  “Was that your third question?” Faye asked archly.

  The boy blanched. “Crap, I didn’t mean to ask that.”

  His ancestor chuckled. “As a reward for your keen observation, I’ll answer that one gratis. Yes, my organization is called the Arkana because it preserves secret knowledge—arcane knowledge.”

  “I can’t wait to get the 411 on them.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to. That’s a much longer discussion which we’ll postpone for the time being.” She looked up at the ceiling, again lost in thought. Murmuring half to herself, she said, “We’ll have to create a replica and then disfigure it in such a way that Metcalf believes it has lost its power. Yes, I believe that strategy may work. I must remember to speak to Maddie about it.”

  The boy appeared lost in a reverie of his own, digesting both his snack and the new data which had been presented to him. He finally peered at Faye and said, “This is even bigger than I thought it was.”

  “Indeed,” the old woman assented. “And now you have the additional burden of keeping all this knowledge secret from Hannah.”

  “But why?”

  “Because if, by some catastrophe, she is recaptured by the cult then the less she knows, the better. It’s for her own protection.”

  “Can’t I at least give her a hint?” he persisted.

  Faye’s voice was unusually grave. “Zachary, these people will kill with very little provocation to get what they want, and they want the Sage Stone very badly. Sybil’s murder proved that. If they thought Hannah knew anything at all about its whereabouts, there’s no telling what they’d do to her.”

  The boy blanched at her words.

  Faye reached across the table and squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I don’t wish to alarm you, but you need to understand the sort of people we’re dealing with. Both your welfare and Hannah’s mean a great deal to me.”

  Zach nodded gravely. “I get that now. I promise not to tell her anything.”

  Having made her point, Faye took a sip of tea and reached for a miniature eclair. “You still have one question left,” she reminded him.

  He sat up with a start. “Right!” A sudden change came over him. He seemed alarmed at the prospect of asking his final question. He cleared his throat several times, looked at the floor, then at the walls, and tapped his fingers on the table. After a deep sigh, he gazed directly at Faye. “Here’s the thing. I want to ask Hannah out on a date.”

  “A date?” Faye echoed in surprise.

  “Yeah. I thought we could go to a movie. She’s never seen anything on the big screen. Never had theater popcorn. It would be good for her to get out in a crowd of normal people.”

  “Zachary, I really don’t think your polka dotted car is the right vehicle for an outing like that,” the old woman protested.

  “Yeah, I know. Aside from the paint job, the muffler is acting up again,” he replied sheepishly.

  “The whole neighborhood can hear it whenever you come to my house for a visit.”

  “What if I promise to take my dad’s car?” he offered.

  “Well, I suppose that would be alright.” Faye dabbed her mouth delicately with her napkin and pushed the teacup away. She rested her elbows on the table. “However, I don’t think I’m the person you should be asking about a date.”

  “I know.” Zach agreed. “That wasn’t my third question.”

  “Oh?” his ancestor asked in surprise.

  “I wanted to know if... um... if... you think Hannah would go out with me if I asked her?”

  Faye gave a knowing smile. “That’s a question I can answer with no hesitation at all. Yes, dear boy. The answer to that one is an unqualified ‘yes.’”

  Chapter 12—The Reel World

  Emboldened by Faye’s assurance of success, Zachary lost no time in asking Hannah to go out with him. On the following Friday evening, he maneuvered his car silently up the driveway to the farmhouse. No exhaust fumes, no rumble from a bad muffler. It was goi
ng to cost him a week of yard work, but he’d managed to wheedle his dad into giving him the keys to the family sedan. He checked his look in the rearview mirror, running anxious fingers over the crown of his head. Even without gel, his hair still had a tendency to stick straight up in the air.

  He loped up the walk and knocked hesitantly on the front door. Hannah swung it open immediately.

  She gave him a tremulous smile. “H... hello. Won’t you come in?”

  He gulped. She looked prettier than he’d ever seen her before and that was saying a lot. Gamma must have helped her curl her hair. She was wearing makeup and a dress made of some kind of gauzy material that seemed to float on the draft coming through the door.

  He walked into the warm, bright parlor where his ancestor was sitting in her favorite armchair. “Hello, Zachary,” she said. “I didn’t hear you come up the drive.”

  “That’s because I’ve got my dad’s car.”

  “Very wise of you.” She nodded her head approvingly. “And where will you be taking Hannah tonight?”

  “To the Cineplex at the mall. There’s a new pirate movie that just came out.”

  “Nothing violent, I hope?” the old woman asked in a worried tone.

  “Strictly PG.”

  “What’s PG?” Hannah asked.

  “It’s a rating system for films, dear,” Faye explained. “It means the content of the movie is suitable for general audiences. No graphic sex or violence.”

  “Oh, my!” Hannah looked alarmed. “Do movies usually have sex and violence?”

  “Some do,” Zach said. “The one we’re seeing tonight shouldn’t be too racy.”

  She eyed him dubiously.

  He checked his watch. “We better go, or we’ll miss the trailers.”

  “What’s a—"

  “Never mind.” He cut her off. “I’ll explain in the car.”

  “Hannah, you should take a wrap,” Faye warned. “It’s chilly out tonight.”

  ***

  Zach paid for their tickets and led Hannah into the theater. Once through the entry door, she stopped dead in her tracks, goggle-eyed at the size of the lobby and its glossy film posters framed in blinking lights. Zach found himself secretly fascinated by her reaction. He was seeing the world through her eyes, and it carried him back to the first time he’d ever been to the movies. All the wonder of make-believe on the big screen returned to him in a rush.