Relics

by K. T. Tomb

  Explaining what the modern conveniences that he once knew were like was very easy. She understood as much of what he was trying to say as the description that he had in his mind that wouldn’t form into words. They also discovered that they argued very little because misunderstandings were eliminated. There was no way that one could hope to manipulate the other, because nothing was hidden between them. If one had become upset, the other knew why. Parke had stumbled onto the perfect relationship and he basked in it.

  Before long, Khaera had begun to walk and talk. Time continued to pass in the shadow of Chuska Peak. They visited Hosteen John often and Parke began to get to know those who lived near them. They went to sings together, celebrated together, mourned the passing of friends and family together and watched Khaera grow and become a beautiful young woman. Parke marveled how very much she favored her mother and he loved her as his own.

  Though he and Naomi never missed an opportunity to make love together, they never had another child. At first, it bothered them, but as time passed, they simply accepted things the way they were and loved Khaera. Parke could not have dreamed of a happier life.

  Chapter Twelve

  Many years passed for Parke and Naomi.

  Khaera grew, married and had five children of her own. Parke and Naomi spent much of their time tending to their herds, especially enjoying the summer pastures up on the slopes of Chuska Peak and tending to grandchildren as well.

  As wrinkles began to get the best of their once smooth faces, Naomi began to think that it was time that Parke pass on their story to Khaera. Through the years, they had kept it secret, not wanting to upset her, but there was something about not being completely honest with her that had bothered him.

  Tell her, Parke. She will understand.

  But she believes that I am her father.

  You are her father, in every way that counts. You must tell her.

  One of their rare discussions ensued, but Parke eventually had to admit that he was as uncomfortable about keeping the truth from her as Naomi was, though for the longest time, they had believed it was better that she did not know.

  “Walk with me,” Parke said to Khaera early one dawn. “I need to tell you some things.”

  They walked to the watering hole and sat on the old stump that had been there the first time that Parke had come up out of the water. Khaera listened quietly as he told the story of the dreams, the dagger, his studio and painting in his other life, his appearance in the world where they now lived, her kidnapping, her rescue, being trapped and finally, flying on the painted pony which Khaera had claimed as her own and cherished until the pony eventually died of old age. When he had finished, Khaera sat for a long time, struggling with conflicting emotions.

  As he watched her, Parke was afraid that he had broken her heart by telling the story and telling her that he wasn’t really her father, however, after some time, she looked up and smiled at him. “I believe you are my father.”

  “You mean, I have been the man who raised you and loved you.”

  “No, I believe that you created my mother when you painted her. By creating her, you became my father and my grandfather. You are twice the father.”

  Parke was speechless. Khaera understood something that he would never have come to understand for all of his years of thinking about it. Was it true? Had he created Naomi? The mystical nature of it all was too confusing for him, but he trusted Khaera’s judgment and accepted her view of things. Even if it wasn’t true, it was the way Khaera saw it, so it made little difference what he thought of it ultimately.

  “Can I see the dagger?” she asked.

  The dagger had long since been hidden. He had made a box for it and buried it many decades before when he feared that touching it might take him back to the other world. Naomi had actually handled it, because Parke refused to touch it. With it buried away, he began to relax about being whisked back to the old world.

  “We will ask your mother.”

  It was the classic reply of a father who wasn’t sure whether he really wanted to give permission for something.

  Ask mother about what.

  She had been listening in.

  Should I show her the dagger?

  I think you should.

  Their ability to read one another’s mind was another secret they kept to themselves. “We’ll wait for your mother to come.”

  “I will call for her.”

  “Not necessary,” he smiled. “She’ll be here in a minute.”

  “How will she know?”

  “She’ll come.”

  There were some secrets that a man and wife had to keep between themselves. In a few moments, Naomi came along the trail to the watering hole just as she had so many years before. He watched her coming, filled with the same anticipation and love that he had felt that very first day. He realized that their love had never faded. He stood and held her close to him. They would see the dagger together. Perhaps it would be the last time.

  “Where is it?” Khaera asked, looking from one to the other and back again.

  “Beneath the pile of stones under that tree. You’ll need a stick or something to dig a little deeper.”

  Khaera eagerly moved the stones and used the stick to dig away nearly a foot of soil before hearing the clunk of the stick hitting the box. She dug around the edges until she was able to pry it out of the hole and then brought the box and set it on the juniper stump. She took a deep breath and opened it.

  The dagger was the same brilliant green that it had always been.

  “Be careful,” he warned as he saw Khaera start to reach into the box. “It becomes hot when you touch it.”

  He glanced over at Naomi and smiled, and then slipped her a kiss that went unnoticed by Khaera.

  Khaera hesitated a moment, then reached into the box. She turned the dagger over in her hands several times. It began to glow and shake as she was holding it, and Naomi and Parke opened their mouths to tell her to drop it.

  ***

  Parke was standing in front of Melissa in the next moment.

  “Jesus,” she said, pushing past him.

  He turned slowly, following her as she passed by; still confused at the sudden change that placed him right back where he had been before he left. It was if no time had passed at all.

  “Did you paint all night?” she thundered. “Damn it, Parke, today is important. You can’t be falling asleep.”

  “What?” he said.

  “You said that you were just going to set this painting up. It looks like you finished it.”

  Parke moved over to the easel. It took a moment for it all to come back to him. He had only set up the painting and sketched in the features that night. Was it last night? Whenever it was. But as he stood there in the onslaught of Melissa’s incessant prattling, he realized that he was in front of a fully finished painting of a cluster of hogans with Chuska Peak behind it in beautiful and intricate detail.

  Parke collapsed to the floor on his knees, raised his hands to his face and broke down crying.

  The End

  Return to the Table of Contents

  MAP OF THE MASONS

  A Nick Caine Adventure

  by

  K.T.TOMB

  Created by

  J.R. Rain & Aiden James

  Map of the Masons

  Published by K.T. Tomb

  Copyright © 2016 by K.T. Tomb

  All rights reserved.

  Map of the Masons

  Prologue

  The last conversation I’d had with Agent Spence still rang clear in my head. And in all honesty, if I’d anticipated half of the drama that discussion would eventually land us in, I would have told his secret agent, ‘men in black’ ass what to do with his idol-seeking assignment.

  “So, what’s the catch? Why do you need us to flush ‘em out of this new jungle?”

  “Our contacts tell us the brothers are following up on a lead about an ancient statue that was reportedly stolen sixty years a
go from a wealthy Oahu resident,” he’d said. “It’s a statue, three feet in height, made of solid gold.... But there is more. The statue was never intended to be in a private collection.”

  “You mean it was stolen by the rich guy living along Waikiki?” I’d persisted.

  “Well… let’s just say it was a legitimate purchase from nefarious sorts—not all that different than something you guys would arrange in your previous lives,” he’d said.

  That statement had stung me. Perhaps a little more than it should have too.

  “However, the important thing now is to get it back for the Department of Interior office, as the statue means a great deal to the native Hawaiians,” he’d continued. “It’s actually a rare depiction of Pele.”

  “You mean, the goddess?” Ishi had asked, immediately horrified. He’d made a gesture with his hands of what I later realized was a volcano erupting violently. “That Pele?”

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “So, it’s a real idol, and not an imitation version,” I’d said, while exchanging glances with Ishi. At the time, his unease had been growing worse by the second.

  “If you mean does the idol date back to pre-colonial times, or older? Yes,” Agent Spence confirmed, chuckling again as his gaze had settled on Ishi and the mortified look on his face. “But you don’t really believe in all the mumbo-jumbo bullshit about Pele, do you?”

  Ishi had looked at me before answering, and maybe I should’ve cautioned him to just let it go… but I hadn’t. Maybe I’d needed a little more fun at my little buddy’s expense. Maybe I’d wanted to see what our big boss believed…. Or, maybe after everything Ishi and I had gone through together, I wasn’t quite ready to dismiss the legends of a temperamental goddess as a fable. Especially when given my recent luck with the ladies—mortal and otherwise.

  “When we’re out on our own this time, do you think you can get us a cell phone to use?” I asked, deciding to divert us from a debate about Pele’s reality. Besides, after learning about our last guide’s hotline to Agent Jacobs, I wanted to have that kind of quick access to Spence too. “Better yet, how about getting us a couple of the new satellite versions?”

  “Well… having those privileges is what following protocol will do for you,” Spence had replied; seemingly ready to move on to the details of our next assignment. “Taking another ill-advised side trip in commando fashion will leave you missing more than just your skivvies. Comprende?”

  Okay… so we couldn’t do any more ‘favor missions’ for Agent Jacobs, or anyone else. Ishi and I had nodded.

  “Good… I will see that you both have the latest communications gear,” he said. “Now for the most important details. You guys will be leaving for Hilo tomorrow morning, and will be based in a resort condo in Kona—not far from the volcano and the jungle you’ll be searching. One of our agents stationed in the islands will meet you, and she will help you guys get acclimated to the area….”

  She? I have to admit that I’d been completely intrigued at the time, and even more so by the lovely name that followed…. Anouhea Kahanamoku. Dangerous drug lord brothers and a legendary goddess with a far-reaching curse have essentially produced the spice that piqued my curiosity… but the promise of a living gal with an alluring moniker had added something more. Whether it was an ingredient to seal the deal or ensure disaster, I didn’t know and can’t say that I cared at the time either.

  There had been only one way to know for sure, and that’s what had brought Ishi and me to the point we were at currently. Speeding away as fast as we could from the fiery river of molten lava that was being belched out at us by a hella pissed off volcano.

  So now that you’re all caught up on the present condition of things…

  Chapter One

  If I was going to be barreling down a cow path in a Land Rover while explosions of molten rock were being thrown at me by an angry goddess, I’d just as soon be behind the wheel. From the passenger’s seat, all I could do was pucker my butt cheeks, try to keep from screaming and hope that the strap above the door, upon which I had a white-knuckled grip, didn’t break off from the vehicle’s frame.

  “Left! Right! Right again! Straight! Floor it!” Ishi, who was in the back seat and holding onto the headrest of my seat for dear life, didn’t seem to have any problem with the screaming part. With his face only inches from my ear and in a pitch two octaves above that of a seven-year-old girl, he called out each of the falling missiles to our driver as she tried to maneuver through them and screamed back over her shoulder for him to shut up.

  Needless to say, all of the warm and fuzzy thoughts that I’d had about our gorgeous Polynesian princess from the moment I heard the name Anouhea Kahanamoku had been completely obliterated like the trees that were bursting into flames as the lava flow, which was moving down the ravine to our left, wrapped around them. If the molten rock flow got to where the cow path crossed the ravine before we did, we were screwed.

  Yeah, I know, I’d mocked the entire Goddess of Fire myths from the get-go, but after what we’d experienced kicking around in the jungle at the base of Kilauea, I’d had a Pele epiphany. Trust me, there is some weird shit going on in that jungle, including the complete disappearance of the Ramos brothers that we’d been there to catch with the Idol of Pele.

  The good news was that we had recovered the idol; the bad news was that we might not make it back to Kona alive.

  “The crossing!” Ishi and I screamed in unison. The lava flow was inching very close to the narrow path where we had to cross to get off of the mountain. Even if it didn’t actually touch the Land Rover, its intense heat could cause the fuel tank to explode.

  All three of us held our breath as Anouhea crushed the pedal to the floor. We plunged down the path into the ravine and shot up the other side.

  “Yes!” we all cried out with a collective release of breath.

  Our celebration was short lived. We might not have to deal with lava any longer, but a ball of molten rock, the size of a VW Bug, smashed into the path ahead of us and forced Anouhea into the jungle on my side; not exactly where I wanted to be. As she drove half on and half off the trail, the screech of rocks as they scraped down the side of the Land Rover was doing even more damage to my ears than Ishi’s high pitched screaming was.

  Just as Anouhea swerved back onto the path, the lava bomb behind us exploded and sent thousands of pieces of stone shrapnel flying in every direction. Several of them peppered the back of the Land Rover; one of them smashing through the window and landing in the cargo area behind Ishi where it started to smolder.

  That one, final explosion had been the closing note to the violent opera that Kilauea had played out for us. With an enormous sigh, our driver let up on the pedal and began a much slower and steadier pace down the path that would lead us out of the jungle.

  Finally able to let go of the strap with one hand and feeling the weight of the silence that surrounded us, I looked over at Anouhea. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she stared directly ahead and guided us down the path.

  “You okay?” I asked in a soft tone.

  She nodded her head rapidly, but would not allow herself to turn and look at me.

  With Ishi no longer clenching the back of my seat, I turned to ask the same question of my Tawankan partner. “You o… oh shit! Stop!”

  The smoldering rock in the cargo area of the Land Rover had just burst into flame behind Ishi’s seat.

  Before Anouhea mashed down with both feet on the brakes, Ishi was already out the door and rolling into the thick foliage beside the path. Anouhea and I weren’t far behind him.

  “The idol!” Anouhea cried out, watching the flame roared up as it started to consume the back seat and was rapidly spreading across the ceiling to the front seat.

  “The Land Rover!” I shouted, a half second after her.

  As gallant as I wanted to be, charging into that inferno to retrieve the idol was the last thing on my mind. At the rate the flame was spreading, th
e fuel tank would surely explode at any moment. Dragging Ishi back onto the path with one hand and Anouhea with the other, we started sprinting down the path until I saw a large boulder off to one side. We dove behind the boulder just in time to hear the explosion and see fragments of what used to be an off-road vehicle flying past.

  “Everybody okay?” I gasped, still trying to catch my breath from the entire chain of events that had unfolded.

  “The idol,” Anouhea whispered. “We’ve failed.”

  “You mean, this idol?” Ishi said, producing a duffel bag with the item that we’d nearly gotten killed to retrieve inside. All 32 of his straight, white teeth were in full view.

  I’ve never wanted to kiss a man, but in that moment, I briefly considered planting one on Ishi’s full, Tawankan lips. “Dude,” I said, slapping him on the back in a manly fashion.

  Anouhea didn’t have the same reservations that I did and she did plant a solid kiss on his lips. It was so out of the ordinary for all of us that we all sat back a moment later and stared at each other with wide eyes.

  “Sorry,” Anouhea muttered, a moment later, breaking the awkwardness.

  I nearly brought it back with my comment. “That’s okay, I was thinking of doing the same thing.”

  “Oh, hell no,” Ishi responded, pushing me away and scrambling to his feet. “Not in this lifetime, Nick Caine!”

  In reality, we laughed a whole lot harder than we should have, but that was mostly due to the massive sense of relief that had washed over us.

  From a safe distance, the sight of Kilauea belching molten rock was fascinating and, in all honesty, one of the most beautiful displays of nature that I’ve ever seen. We watched Kilauea for a few moments and then considered the roaring fireball that had completely engulfed the Land Rover.