I stepped toward the seated figure, bringing my magic light closer. Now that I could see it better, I saw Daniel was right. The figure was a very rough sculpture of a naked man sitting on a stone chair. Whoever the sculptor was had taken a page from action figures because the nude figure was not anatomically correct. The fact that I looked probably meant it had been far too long since I had gotten laid. The man was made of what appeared to be clay. The clay was such a dark red, it was almost black. Even seated, the sculpture was almost as tall as I, and it was much wider than I was. It had hollow eyes which were set deeply in a rough-hewn face that only a mother could love.
“What in the world is this thing?” I asked. “It wasn’t here the last time I visited this museum.”
“Ichiro Kato, the last magician to wear the Cloak of Wisdom, willed the Cloak to the Sackler Gallery upon his death, along with a slew of priceless Japanese artifacts. The bequest stipulated that this statue and several others like it be housed in the same facility as the Cloak.”
“Why?”
“I’m an angel, not a medium. Who knows what a dead man was thinking?”
There were yellow letters engraved on the forehead of the statue. “I wonder what that says,” I said, pointing. “It doesn’t look like Japanese.”
“It’s not. It’s Hebrew. In English, the letters spell out emet. Emet is the Hebrew word for truth.”
“You understand Hebrew?”
“I understand all languages. I’m an angel, remember?” Daniel shook his head impatiently. “C’mon, you’re wasting time again.”
I eyed the back of Daniel’s head wistfully as he led us down the grand staircase, with my globe of light traveling overhead with us. Maybe when all this was over, I’d smack him upside the head for repeatedly talking to me like that. I didn’t know if assaulting a fallen angel was a sin, but I’d be willing to risk it.
While going down the stairs, we spotted on the first underground level a couple of the same sort of rough clay sculptures as the one we had seen on the ground floor. I wondered how many of the statues were in the building.
We got off the staircase on the second underground level. Now that windows were not a concern, I made my magic light brighter. Daniel walked confidently, leading the way, since he knew where the Cloak was on display. Despite our soft-soled shoes, our footsteps echoed off the laminated wood floors in the otherwise total silence. Dark shadows shifted as my floating overhead light passed by various objects, making it appear as though we walked amid living things.
We passed through exhibits that would make the heart of an Asian art enthusiast go pit-a-pat. I spotted Chinese jades and bronzes, Indian tapestries, Japanese ceramics, and more pieces of sculpture from various cultures than you could shake a Noah’s Ark stick at. The ugly red clay sculptures were everywhere. They dotted this level like acne on a teenager’s face.
Even to my unsophisticated eye, it was obvious a bunch of the items on display were valuable. Even so, a lot of the items were not in security cases and were simply out in the open. With no security guards to stop me, it would be all too easy to fill my arms with stuff. If I were a criminal, I could make out like a bandit.
Then I remembered why I was here. If I were a criminal. Ha! More like if I were a greedier criminal. Fresh anxiety surged through me. I had not enjoyed prison and was not anxious to go back. The sooner we grabbed the cloak and got the heck out of here, the better.
“This is the room we want,” Daniel said. Through a doorless entrance, we went into a large, square room. Another rough red clay sculpture sat in a stone chair near the entrance. A second doorless entrance was in the wall on the left. A massive, ancient tapestry depicting armored samurai warriors fighting each other took up the far wall ahead of us. The other walls were bare and white. Objects of various sizes were on display atop white pedestals, some enclosed in clear display cases, others not.
“Everything in this room was gifted to the Sackler Gallery by Kato, but this is what we’re looking for,” Daniel said as he stopped in the center of the room in front of a thick, transparent glass case.
A headless mannequin was inside the case. Around the mannequin’s neck was a thick cloak. The cloak was the color of blood and was secured around the mannequin’s neck with a gold clasp. The clasp was shaped like an eagle with its wings spread wide. The clasp was so artfully wrought that it almost looked alive.
Except for the clasp, the Cloak reminded me a little of the red cape Avatar used to wear. Avatar had been the world’s greatest Hero until he was murdered a few years ago.
The Cloak of Wisdom, circa 1400, read the plaque mounted on a stand next to the case. Acquired by wealthy businessman and occult enthusiast Ichiro Kato in 1971, Kato believed that he could make the Cloak become a part of his body, and the Cloak then imparted to him knowledge and wisdom Kato used in the pursuit of his supernatural studies.
Next to these words on the plaque was a drawing of two hands with their palms out, wrists crossed, and the thumbs twisted around one another. Behind and slightly above the hands was the shadow of a bird, as if a light was shining at an upward angle on the entwined hands and throwing a bird shadow puppet on a wall behind them. I concluded it was supposed to be an eagle like the eagle on the clasp, but I still thought it was weird the drawing was there.
“Occult enthusiast? Supernatural studies?” I said. “Whatever happened to keeping the secret magical world a secret? Though I’m one to talk. That might not be a First Rule violation, but it’s awfully close.”
“I’m told everything on the plaque was taken verbatim from Kato’s will,” Daniel said. “Knowing someone else might need the Cloak one day, I suppose he thought he would hide it in plain sight à la The Purloined Letter.”
“The what kind of letter?”
Daniel sighed. The sound echoed off the walls of the enclosed space. “Promise me you’ll spend some of the money I’m paying you on books. A sorceress who doesn’t read is like a rusty sword: You can still use it, but it doesn’t work as well.”
Smacking Daniel upside the head when this nonsense was over looked like a better and better idea with each passing moment.
But this nonsense was not yet over. The first step toward finding the Spear of Destiny and getting this know-it-all out of my life was to grab the Cloak of Wisdom and get the heck out of dodge. The longer I stayed in here, the greater the chance I’d get caught here.
I raised my hand, about to probe the case the Cloak was in to see how strong it was.
Daniel pushed my hand away. “Let’s look before we leap,” he said. “Maybe there’s an alarm or some other sort of protection in place.” He raised his wooden staff. He held it in front of the transparent case. He closed his eyes, concentrating. The dark wood began to shimmer with rainbow colors.
Increasingly impatient to get the cloak and get out of here, I glanced around for something to break the case with once Daniel gave me the go-ahead.
A few steps away was a dark metal rod resting on a waist-high display case. I went over to it. Up close, it reminded me of a metal baseball bat, only the rod was over five feet long. Also, the rod had wicked-looking metal spikes on its top half. According to the plaque next to the rod, it was a kanobō, which translated into metal stick in English. The plaque said it was a two-handed war club used by the samurai in feudal Japan.
If it was good enough for the samurai, it was good enough for me. I picked the two-handed club up with one hand because, unlike the samurai, I had super strength. Score one for feminism. I took it back over to the Cloak of Wisdom. Daniel still stood before the case, with his eyes closed and the Ark fragment shimmering.
My toe tapped impatiently as I waited. To say I was antsy would be a massive understatement. My fears of going back to prison had me convinced an armed guard was going to stroll in here any minute now on an unscheduled patrol.
Finally, I couldn’t stand waiting any longer. “You detect any alarms on the case?” I asked.
“No,” Daniel said, f
rowning slightly with his eyes still closed. “But—”
“Then what the heck are we waiting for?” My patience was at the end of its rope. “Stop pussyfooting around.”
I stepped forward. I swung the metal club at the case like I was trying to hit a homer at Nationals Park.
There was a huge crash, like that of a car driving into a streetlight. The impact of the kanobō on the case reverberated up my arm painfully. The case cracked like a dropped hard-boiled egg, with ever-expanding fissures racing all throughout it. Daniel’s eyes flew open. He jumped back, startled.
The case shuddered for a moment, as if an earthquake had hit it. Then, all at once, the case collapsed loudly into a multitude of pieces on the wood floor.
I looked with satisfaction at my handiwork. Sometimes a situation called for a hammer instead of a scalpel. Now nothing stood between us and the Cloak of Wisdom. All I had to do was reach out and take it. Easy peasy lemon squeazy.
I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see the red clay sculpture rising out of its chair as if it had been napping and the racket had awakened it. The Hebrew letters on its head and its sunken eyes glowed red, as if a LED was in its skull.
The glowing red eyes looked straight at me and Daniel. The sculpture grabbed the solid stone chair it had been sitting on and picked it up with one arm. The chair must have weighed several hundred pounds.
The sculpture whipped the chair at me and Daniel.
I dove to my left, plowing into Daniel with my shoulder. We fell to the hard floor as the stone chair rocketed through the space we had occupied an instant before. The chair slammed into the far wall with a crash that might have awakened the First Family over a mile away as the crow flies in the White House.
“I was saying the Ark fragment detected some sort of magical trigger in the case,” Daniel yelled in my ear, “and that we shouldn’t act until I figured out how to disarm it.”
“Oh,” I said.
The big statue lumbered toward us. The floor shook ominously with each of its steps.
CHAPTER 14
I scrambled to my feet. I grabbed the kanobō I had dropped when I’d tackled Daniel. I brandished it at the statue like it was a sword.
“Grab the cloak and stay behind me,” I snapped at Daniel. I eyed the approaching red clay statue. “I’ll take care of this thing.” Since Daniel was the immortal one, I probably should have been the one to stay behind him. You could take the girl out of the bodyguarding gig, but not the bodyguarding gig out of the girl.
I swung the kanobō at the statue, expecting the statue to shatter like the case around the Cloak of Wisdom had.
Moving faster than I expected, the statue lifted its hand and grabbed the end of the kanobō racing toward it. The statue pulled. I was yanked off my feet. The statue was much stronger than I, and I was no weakling.
I had been the swinger, now I was the swung. The room became a blur as the statue pulled its arm holding the kanobō back, then flicked it forward, like someone casting with a rod and reel.
I’m not sure if the statue let go of the kanobō, or if I did. Maybe the kanobō let go of me, figuring I wasn’t safe to be around. Regardless, I went flying.
I slammed into the tapestry-covered wall with a bone-rattling thump. It felt like a few of my internal organs got rearranged.
I fell to the floor, ripping the tapestry down with me. It fell on top of me like a giant rough blanket. The opaque artwork blinded me. I pawed feverishly at the tapestry, trying to get it off me before the statue came over and stomped me like a bug trapped under a rug.
No good. It was like one of those Chinese finger puzzles—the more I struggled, the more entangled I became.
New plan. Hoping this wasn’t a one-of-a kind irreplaceable work of art, I grabbed two handfuls of the tapestry. I yanked hard. With a rending sound, the tapestry ripped apart, freeing me.
I stood, blinking bits of fabric out of my eyes. Daniel came hurtling through the air toward me, with something red fluttering behind him like a streamer. I halfway caught him, halfway served as a human airbag. Daniel’s collision with me slammed my back into the wall again. We both went sprawling.
Daniel had the Ark fragment in one hand, and the Cloak of Wisdom clutched in the other. The fact the Ark fragment had not protected Daniel from the statue’s attack the way it had protected him from me in my apartment did not bode well.
Pushing Daniel out of the way, I scrambled to my feet again. I summoned a ball of spellfire. I flung it at the approaching statue.
Bullseye. The fireball hit the statue square in the chest. The statue’s whole body caught fire with a whoosh, like a lit match had been put to a pile of charcoal drenched in lighter fluid.
The fire stopped the statue’s advance. But before I could dislocate my shoulder patting myself on the back, the statue’s body sucked up the spellfire like a thirsty sponge. The statue vibrated, growing visibly bigger off the magical energy I had flung at it.
The fire now extinguished and the statue bigger than ever, it continued its thunderous advance toward us.
I hastily tried an earth-based spell, hoping that since the statue appeared to be made of clay, I could break it apart.
No go. Trying to latch onto the statue with the spell was like grabbing a fistful of air. Something about the statue made it impossible for me to get a magical grip on it.
Brute force had been a bust, as had magic. Time for Plan C.
“Run!” I cried. I headed for the exit furthest from the statue, with Daniel hard on my heels. My globe of light zoomed over our heads like a drone. I was grateful I had not lost hold of my light spell despite having been flung around like a rag doll. A small—very small—victory.
With the statue lumbering after us, we darted out of the room. I turned left, toward the stairs leading back up. We left the statue behind. Fortunately, as fast as the statue had been in an enclosed space, it did not seem capable of running. Plodding was more its speed.
I skidded to a stop when I turned a corner. Daniel almost slammed into me. Another statue, its eyes glowing red malevolently, was in the middle of the corridor between us and the stairs. It advanced toward us.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I wondered if me breaking the case had brought every single red clay statue in this joint to life. Me and my impulsiveness. Would I ever learn?
“Another way out?” I panted.
“The elevator,” Daniel said, turning and running before the words were out of his mouth.
I trailed after him. We left the second statue in our dust. If those things could run, we’d be dead already. Or at least I would be. Daniel would likely be twisted up into a pretzel. He wouldn’t die, but certain types of pain were worse than death.
I turned a corner. Daniel was already halfway down the hall, past the entrance to another exhibit room. As I hurtled down the hall, a red clay statue stepped out of the exhibit room, bent at the waist to fit through the entryway. It straightened up once clear of the doorway. It blocked the corridor between me and Daniel, standing facing me with its legs wide.
I silently cursed. I didn’t want to get separated from Daniel. So instead of stopping, I increased my running speed. Adrenaline and fear gave my feet wings.
The statue grabbed for me as I approached. My glowing orb skimmed the ceiling, over the head of the clay monster.
I dropped, sliding feetfirst, like I was a batter sliding into second base. My butt burned from the friction with the wood floor. For the first time ever, I was happy to have all that extra padding down there.
“Ventus!” I cried breathlessly. I made the necessary hand motions as I skidded toward the statue grasping for me.
A sudden gust of magically induced wind sent me shooting between the statue’s legs like a wet watermelon seed flicked across a tabletop.
The statue’s hands clutched for me but came up empty. I was already through its legs and behind it. I stumbled to my feet. My right thigh burned, as did my derrièr
e. Better burning buttocks than a mangled everything.
I took off running again toward Daniel. He looked at me like I had scored the winning run of the World Series. I didn’t let it go to my head. We weren’t out of the woods, not by a long shot.
The statue whose legs I slid through turned and pursued us, but Daniel and I quickly left it behind. The problem was we could hear the thud of multiple statues approaching, from all sides. When we got to the corridor the elevator was at the end of, two statues were already there, blocking our access to the elevator. We were forced to retreat.
“C’mon, this way,” Daniel shouted over his shoulder as he led me deeper into the gallery. I was glad he knew where everything was because I was completely lost.
Daniel stopped in front of a closed door. “In here,” he said. He touched the Ark fragment to the doorknob. The knob and staff glowed for an instant, and the door swung open. I shot inside, followed by him. Daniel slammed and locked the door, not that a locked door was going to do any good against statues that were stronger than I was.
I looked around. There were rows of metal shelving which groaned under the weight of various boxes and artifacts. Some sort of storage area for the gallery, obviously. There was no exit other than the door we had come through.
“We’re trapped,” I exclaimed. “Let’s get out of here before the statues come.”
Daniel blocked the door. “I know.” He panted, and his nose bled. The blood made the bottom of his ski mask glisten under my magic light. “Running is doing us no good. They’re tightening the noose around us, cutting off our avenues of escape. We need to make a stand.”
“You mean like General Custer did? That worked out great for him. What are we supposed to do when they bust down the door?” I felt the vibration of their distant approach through the floor. The shelf closest to me began to shake. Pretty soon we would be standing in the middle of a red clay statue jamboree. “I hope you’ve got a brilliant idea, because I’m fresh out.”
Sorceress Super Hero Page 15
