The Arkana Mysteries Boxed Set

by N. S. Wikarski

  The librarian rolled his eyes. “It’s not regal; it’s hideous. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always hated it. So stuffy and formal. All my friends call me Chris because it’s short and simple.”

  “Your friends?” Daniel hesitated. “You mean you consider me a friend?”

  “I’d like to,” Chris replied softly.

  Daniel felt flustered though secretly pleased. He even managed a shaky smile. “OK, then. I’ll call you Chris from now on.” He looked around the reading room furtively. “Is there somewhere we can go and talk privately?”

  Chris gave him a sly wink. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”

  The question puzzled Daniel. He didn’t quite understand. “I... uh... There’s something confidential I need to talk to you about.”

  The librarian raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “What a man of mystery you are! Just a minute.” Chris poked his head through the swinging doors behind the reference desk. “Libby?” he called out to someone in the back room, presumably the humorless woman who had scowled at Daniel during his last visit. “Libby, I’m going to take my break now. Would you be a lamb and cover the desk for me for a few minutes?”

  She must have said yes because Chris returned and motioned for Daniel to follow him. The librarian hesitated when they got to the elevator. “Just how confidential is this conversation?”

  “Very,” Daniel replied.

  His companion nodded and pressed the Up button.

  “Where are we going?” the scion asked.

  “To the Rare Book Exhibit on the top floor,” Chris replied. “The room is used for fundraisers, receptions, that sort of thing. Strictly after-hours affairs. Nobody will be in there now and it just so happens that I know the key code.”

  The two young men took the elevator up four flights and were deposited in a hallway facing double glass doors. Chris swiped his key through the card reader next to the doors and punched in a five-digit code. After the two were inside, the doors automatically relocked with a loud click.

  Daniel had never seen anything like the contents of this room before. The walls were lined with glass cases containing row upon row of rare books. Some weren’t even books but manuscripts with illustrations painted on parchment. Many of them were medieval bibles because Daniel was able to read the Latin text. Other cases displayed objects even older—papyrus scrolls written in languages the scion couldn’t begin to guess at. “This is amazing,” he said in awe as he wandered from case to case.

  “C’mon over here.” Chris patted a seat on a circular bench positioned in the center of the room directly under a stained-glass skylight.

  Daniel eagerly obeyed.

  The librarian turned to give him his undivided blue-eyed attention. For no particular reason, Daniel felt his pulse quicken.

  “Now what’s all this cloak-and-dagger business about?” Chris asked archly.

  “Cloak and dagger?” Daniel repeated uncertainly.

  The librarian smiled. “Oops, my bad. I forgot how pop culture-challenged you are.”

  Daniel merely stared at him in confusion.

  “One day you’ll have to tell me the sad, sad story of how you got to be such a babe in the woods.” Less mockingly, Chris added, “All kidding aside, something is really bothering you. What’s the matter?”

  Daniel took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. “I’m working on a project for my father that involves collecting certain ancient artifacts.”

  The librarian crossed his legs and clasped his hands around one knee.

  Daniel, with his newfound fashion obsession, couldn’t help giving his friend’s oxblood loafers an admiring glance.

  Chris didn’t notice. “I always wondered why you needed me to help you dig up so much (you’ll forgive the expression) ‘dirt’ about ancient cultures. Mysterious ancient artifacts, eh? What a hoot. So, you’re like Indiana Jones?”

  “Indiana who?”

  The librarian gave his friend a pitying sigh. “Maybe we’d get farther if I stopped asking questions you don’t understand and just let you explain.”

  Daniel nodded and continued. “No one is supposed to know what I’m doing so I hesitated to confide in you until I felt I could trust you.”

  The blinding smile returned, displaying a row of perfect white teeth.

  “Anyway, each of the artifacts I’m trying to find can only be located by solving a riddle.”

  “Get out!” Chris leaned forward eagerly. “You’re not joking, are you?”

  The scion shook his head.

  “So, you want me to help you with these riddles?”

  “Yes. I thought perhaps if we went over the lines that I couldn’t decipher myself in past clues, it might help me locate the next artifact more quickly.”

  “Nobody will ever believe this!” Chris exclaimed.

  Daniel gripped him hard by the forearm. “Nobody must know! Swear it.”

  His urgency seemed to have a sobering influence on the librarian. “Daniel, it’s alright. Calm down. I promise not to tell anyone. Cross my heart.”

  Daniel released his grip. He reached into his briefcase and showed Chris a sheet of paper. “I’ve translated a few of the lines that I was never able to decipher.”

  Chris studied the paper. He read the clues out loud. “Set your course four bees from the dragon’s wing to the sea. When the bull turns the season, mark where the goat grazes the spinner’s peak.” After he was done, he stared at Daniel in disbelief. “You thought I would know what this means? It’s gibberish.”

  Daniel gave a nervous little smile. “Perhaps you just don’t know that you know. You’ve helped me so much in the past. I wouldn’t understand how to use a computer at all if not for you. Please try. These clues were made by Minoans from Crete. About three thousand years ago.”

  The librarian’s eyes sparkled with interest at the mention of the name. “Minoans! So, that’s the reason for all that research on Linear B last year. You even got me hooked. I started reading up on Minoan civilization in my off hours.” He looked down at the sheet of paper and frowned in concentration. “What do you think these ancient Minoans were trying to tell you?”

  “All the riddles were used to find geographic locations.”

  For a few moments, Chris gazed off into space, lost in thought. “Geographic locations,” he murmured half to himself. “The Minoans were famous sea merchants. They had some fairly sophisticated navigation techniques.” Finally, he transferred his attention back to Daniel and fixed him with a triumphant grin. “I think you were right. I just might be able to help you figure this out.”

  Chapter 18—Winging It

  Cassie tiredly switched on the light in her hotel room. It had been a long, long day. Throwing her room key on the nightstand, she fell backwards onto the bed. She found herself wondering why she felt so sleepy. After all, she’d done nothing more than sit in a car for most of the day. Faye had once told her that sometimes people with her “special gift” used sleep as a way to escape sensory overload. Dreaming allowed the subconscious to sort out the jumble of information and create a coherent pattern from it. She decided she liked that explanation better than Erik’s opinion that she was a wimp when it came to travel and that she should take some No Doze and power through it. Sighing, she closed her eyes. All she needed was forty winks.

  ***

  Cassie found herself standing in the park in Alok next to one of the strange little monoliths they had visited earlier that day. Time must have skipped forward because now it was dawn. The sun was rising just outside the park off to her right.

  She whirled around, but no one else was in sight. Transferring her attention to the park entrance, she saw a figure swathed in a hooded cloak gliding across the grass. It stopped several feet away from her. The figure folded back its hood to reveal the face of a woman with long grey hair. Cassie recognized her instantly as the aged Minoan priestess she had seen in her vision on the Basque mountain. The woman re
ached into a pocket of her cloak and retrieved an object. With a start, Cassie recognized the lapis dove. The priestess looked her right in the eye and smiled gently. She held the dove out before her with both hands. To Cassie’s amazement, the bird came to life. No longer a stiff carving made of lapis lazuli and jewels, it ruffled its feathers and launched itself directly upward from the priestess’s hands. Cassie’s eyes followed as the bird hovered above her. Its silhouette hung suspended against the sky for a few seconds before it glided on outstretched wings in the direction of the sun.

  Cassie snapped awake immediately and scrambled out of bed. In a surreal imitation of her dream, she could see dawn breaking outside her window. She looked at the bedside clock. It was 7 AM. Surprisingly, she’d slept straight through the night although it felt as if she’d been dreaming for only minutes. Her lips curved into a smile. The priestess had given her a pretty good clue as to where to find the next relic.

  ***

  Cassie entered the hotel dining room to find Erik and Griffin at a table, hunched together in bleak conversation. They both glanced up at her approach.

  Erik’s gaze narrowed. “What do you look so happy about?”

  Griffin was a trifle less surly. “Have you gotten an impression of where we should search next?” he asked anxiously.

  “Boy, have I!” Cassie exclaimed as she took a seat. Beckoning the waitress, she ordered coffee and began to peruse the menu. “So, what looks good?” she asked of no one in particular.

  Both men stared at her blankly.

  “Seriously, all you can think about is breakfast?” Erik asked in disbelief.

  “I can’t work on an empty stomach,” she replied serenely.

  “Won’t you give us a hint?” Griffin wheedled.

  “You mean like the hint you refused to give me when we were in Spain?” she retorted.

  “I had no idea you were so vindictive,” the scrivener replied. “I’m really quite appalled.”

  “Oh, relax guys,” Cassie chuckled. “I’m just rattling your cages.”

  The waitress arrived with the coffee pot.

  The pythia added, “But seriously, I do need to eat. I’m famished.”

  The men both grumbled in exasperation and gave the waitress their breakfast orders. Nobody seemed in the mood to try anything exotic, so it was scrambled eggs all around.

  When the waitress departed for the kitchen, Erik lowered his voice. “Now will you tell us what’s going on?”

  “Absolutely.” Cassie took a few sips of coffee and began. “I had a dream last night, and it was a doozy. I saw the Minoan priestess. She gave me a clue.”

  Her teammates leaned over the table, hanging on her every word.

  “Griffin, give me the bird,” she instructed.

  “I beg your pardon?” The Brit drew himself up.

  Cassie sighed. “Where’s the dove?”

  “Why, in my room, of course. You don’t think I’d come trotting into the dining room with a priceless artifact under my arm, do you?”

  “Then I’ll improvise. Do you have a sheet of paper on you?”

  “Certainly,” he replied, reaching for a leather-bound notebook on the table beside his plate. He tore off a sheet and handed it to Cassie.

  “You’re the go-to-guy for low tech solutions,” Cassie teased. She took the sheet and folded it into the shape of an airplane. “Let’s pretend this is the dove.”

  “The Minoan priestess taught you origami?” Erik asked sarcastically.

  “Ears open, mouth shut,” Cassie advised him. “In my dream, the dove came to life and flew up in the sky.” She mimicked the bird’s motion by holding the paper plane with its nose pointed toward the ceiling. “But then it changed direction. It flew toward the sunrise.” Cassie banked the paper aircraft sideways so that one of its wings pointed to the ceiling and the other to the floor. “Get it?” She nudged Griffin with her elbow.

  The scrivener stared back at her vacantly for several seconds until the significance of her action dawned on him. “Oh, my goddess! I’ve been remarkably stupid!”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Cassie consoled. “By the look on Erik’s face, I’d say you’re still miles ahead of him.”

  The paladin scowled. “Cut to the chase. What does it mean?”

  Griffin took the paper airplane out of Cassie’s hands. He contemplated it ruefully before turning his attention to Erik. “When I calculated the latitude we were to search, I measured the distance from the bird’s beak to the end of its tail. That measurement put us in equatorial Africa.”

  “Yeah, so what’s the problem?”

  “I failed to consider the part of the clue that mentions the direction of the dove’s flight—east.” Griffin spun the airplane sideways on the table. “I should have measured the distance from wing tip to wing tip.”

  Erik squinted down at the airplane. “But that would be longer, right?”

  “Precisely,” Griffin concurred. “Translated into a measurement of latitude it means we’re too far south.”

  “Then where should we be searching?”

  “I’ll have to verify my calculations, but I believe our hidden artifact lies somewhere in the Sahara desert.” The scrivener gave Cassie an approving look. “I must say, your newfound ability to communicate with the Minoan priestess through your dreams should prove quite useful.”

  Cassie beamed back at him. Then turning to Erik, she added pointedly, “And you know why I had that dream?”

  “Beats me.”

  “Because I was sleeping, dude. Sleeping.”

  “OK, I get the moral of the story,” Erik admitted, rolling his eyes. “Never wake a sleeping dragon or a jet-lagged pythia.”

  “I think I’ll have that motto engraved on my luggage,” Cassie murmured as she sipped the last of her coffee.

  Chapter 19—Eyes and Heirs

  It was shortly after sunset when Joshua Metcalf drove his car down a deserted stretch of dirt road and parked it next to a cinderblock foundation sticking three feet out of the earth and capped with a tar paper roof. He walked up to the odd structure. Two metal doors were set into the concrete at a forty-five-degree angle—like the entrance to an old-fashioned root cellar. Joshua swung the doors outward and revealed stone stairs leading down into darkness. The young man flipped a light switch on the side of the stairwell. He shut the doors behind him noiselessly. Clandestine behavior was now a part of his job, but it had always been a part of his nature. The room at the bottom of the stairs was cloaked in shadow. He flicked another light switch on the wall, and the shadows retreated before the glare of fluorescent ceiling lights.

  Joshua gave a start when he saw his father seated behind a desk at the back of the room waiting for him. “I... I... didn’t realize you’d arrived before me, sir. I didn’t see your car.”

  “That’s the point,” the diviner replied gruffly. “No one is supposed to see us together. That’s why we’re meeting here at the training facility instead of the compound.” He gestured toward a folding chair which had been drawn up to the desk. “Sit down.”

  Joshua complied. He noted that Abraham’s voice wasn’t as commanding as it had once been. The fluorescents gave his skin a greenish cast. Gossip swirled around the compound that the loss of his favorite wife had dealt a heavy blow to the diviner. Joshua held a different opinion. It wasn’t pining for a lost love that was draining the life out of him. Rather, his father’s confidence must have been shaken to the core to know that a girl of fourteen could successfully defy him. Joshua suppressed a smile. Pride, not love, was the dominant emotion here. Nobody had ever dared thwart the diviner’s will during his five decades as prophet. Joshua hoped that someday he might be in the enviable position of exacting unquestioning obedience from the brotherhood. He expected that his new position among the Nephilim would further that ambition.

  ‘You know why I’ve called you here?” Abraham demanded with a little of his imperiousness returning.


  “Of course, Father,” Joshua agreed smoothly. “I understand the need for secrecy. It wouldn’t do for the rest of the flock to know that I am the new head of the Order of Argus—your eyes and ears among the people. A spy can’t be very effective without the element of secrecy, now can he?”

  “And what about the men you’ve chosen as part of your team. Can they be depended upon to keep their mouths shut when among their own families?”

  Joshua gave a self-satisfied smile. “I wouldn’t have chosen them if they had any such flaw.”

  “Good,” Abraham said curtly.

  It was the closest thing to a compliment Joshua was likely to get. The young man continued. “I have a dozen men deployed among the congregation at the main compound. During the past three months, I’ve set up a similar configuration at each of the North American satellite compounds. Here are the names of the men involved.” He held a sheet of paper forward to Metcalf.

  The old man scrutinized the list, murmuring or nodding in agreement when he chanced upon a name which he particularly favored. “Yes, this will do for a start. How do you communicate with them?”

  “I had planned to hold our meetings and teleconferences right here in the secret training facility you constructed for Mr. Bowdeen. No one has been using it since he went overseas to provide the European communities with weapons instruction.”

  Abraham nodded again approvingly. “Yes, this would be a good place to stage your operation. Speaking of Mr. Bowdeen, I wish you to follow him.”

  Joshua drew a blank. “I don’t understand, sir. You want me to spy on him for you?”

  “Of course not! Don’t be an idiot,” Metcalf retorted impatiently. “I mean I want you to follow in his footsteps. You are to set up an intelligence network at each of the European compounds once he has finished his training. At the moment, he’s in Germany. He’ll know who the best marksmen are and can guide you in deciding which of them might also make good candidates for the Order of Argus.”

  “So, you wish me to take charge of the order globally?” Joshua realized he’d just been promoted.