Arkana Archaeology Mystery Box Set 2

by N. S. Wikarski

  ***

  Rinchen was loitering in a side street a few blocks away from the cafe. His brother came tearing around the corner with a big grin on his face. “They took the bait,” he said. “You’re up, bro.”

  “Okey dokey,” Rinchen replied. He donned a baseball cap and dark sunglasses so his resemblance to his twin wouldn’t be obvious. Then he raced up the trail to the cave. It took two hours to make the climb at a fast trot. Even though he was fully acclimated, the Arkana agent was breathless by the time he reached his destination.

  He paused just inside the entrance, considering where the best vantage point might be. A few other pilgrims were pacing back and forth along the narrow ledge of rock and praying. Rinchen strolled casually toward the shrine. He took a seat on the ground between the two chortens closest to the artifact. Then he leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and waited.

  About an hour later, Daniel and his henchman arrived. They immediately dropped to the stone floor of the cave, gasping like fish out of water. For a good ten minutes, they did nothing but struggle to fill their lungs with air. After they’d recovered sufficiently, they rose and advanced cautiously along the ledge toward the interior. It took them only seconds to locate the shrine. There was a stunned silence as both men contemplated the relic in disbelief.

  “This is amazing,” Daniel murmured at last. “Even though it’s been exposed, the artifact is still here and still intact after all these centuries.”

  Hunt gave an appreciative whistle. “That feller in town was right. This surely is a sight worth trekkin’ up a mountain to see. How much you think a doodad like that might fetch in US dollars?”

  “I couldn’t even begin to guess.” Daniel’s voice was filled with awe.

  They stopped talking abruptly when they realized Rinchen was seated a few yards away. The Arkana agent appeared to be deep in prayer, murmuring unintelligible Buddhist chants. He had adopted a lotus meditation pose and his eyes, shielded behind dark glasses, seemed to be shut.

  Hunt and Daniel relaxed slightly. They must have assumed he was a pilgrim who didn’t understand English. They lowered their voices but continued their conversation. Over the drone of his own chanting, Rinchen still managed to catch every word.

  “So how you wanna play this?” Hunt asked.

  Daniel hesitated, assessing the situation. “We’ll have to come back long after sunset to collect the artifact. Sometime around midnight.”

  “Nope. 2 AM is better,” Hunt corrected. “That way we’ll make it back into town a little before sunup. We can cut out while it’s still dark and nobody’s stirrin’. Once we put a couple miles between us and Darchen, it’ll be light enough for us to see the road back the way we come.”

  “Yes,” the scion conceded. “That would make the most sense. We don’t know the route to Lhasa well enough to risk driving very far in the dark. Two o’clock it is.”

  “I’ll have to scare up some tools before that,” the cowboy observed. “Gotta pull off that frame to get the goods.”

  “Then we should start back down immediately to make our preparations.”

  The duo left without a backward glance at the Buddhist pilgrim still muttering his incomprehensible prayers.

  Rinchen kept up the charade awhile longer to give the Nephilim a head-start down the mountain. Then he rose to make the journey himself and report back to his teammates. They were all going to have a long night ahead.

  ***

  The Arkana group stood in front of the Saptarishi shrine, studying the false relic now ensconced in place of the original.

  “Does anything look off?” Cassie asked of no one in particular.

  Rinchen leaned in and rubbed a scratch mark off the metal frame. “Nope. The fake is an exact match.”

  Griffin held the real artifact, training the beam of his flashlight on the object. “Thankfully, there were no additional glyphs on the back that couldn’t be seen in our photographs. Our foes will receive a copy which contains the complete riddle.”

  “That’s one less thing to worry about,” Cassie said. “We’re spinning enough plates as it is.” She turned to the twins. “Are you guys all set to go?”

  “Check,” Rabten answered. “We’ll make sure to avoid the Nephilim on the way down.”

  Griffin handed him the Minoan relic, which he promptly stowed in his backpack.

  “As soon as we get off the mountain, “Rinchen said, “it’s pedal to the metal.”

  “We know a route that’ll get the artifact out of the country without crossing any border checkpoints,” his brother added. “The package will be on Maddie’s desk in about a week.”

  “I still think one of us should stay behind and guard your backs.” The twin’s voice was troubled.

  “Don’t worry, Rinchen, we’ll be OK,” Cassie reassured him.

  The twins stared at one another in shock and then at the pythia.

  “How did you know which of us was which?”

  “We’re not wearing our baseball gear.”

  Cassie gave a knowing smile. “Because Rinchen’s voice is a fraction of a tone lower than Rabten’s.”

  Rabten chuckled. “Way to go. Only our mother has ever been able to tell us apart.”

  “Til now.”

  “You’ve just witnessed one of the pythia’s many gifts of discernment,” Griffin observed. “Nuances of perception are her specialty.”

  Rinchen persisted. “All kidding aside, I don’t like the idea of you two cornered up here with no backup.”

  “From a purely practical standpoint, there’s barely enough room in this cave to conceal two people let alone three,” the scrivener retorted. “Aside from that, both of you will be needed to smuggle this artifact across a thousand miles of barren wasteland.”

  The twins still appeared troubled but didn’t contradict him.

  Cassie glanced apprehensively at her watch and then at the shrine. “Midnight. Hunt and Daniel should have started their climb by now. Griffin and I will wait til they steal what’s in the shrine and then we’ll put the second fake in its place. With any luck, we can sneak down the mountain before daylight and be on our way too.”

  Directing his attention to Griffin, Rinchen asked, “Do you know the route back to Hilsa?”

  Cassie answered on the Brit’s behalf. “He’s got an eidetic memory. He’ll get us there.”

  “OK, then,” Rabten said. “Here’s where we part ways. Good luck, guys. I hope you won’t need it.”

  Cassie hugged them both. “Stay safe.”

  Griffin shook hands. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

  “You too,” Rinchen replied. “See you both in Chicago.”

  The twins receded into the shadows at the cave entrance, leaving Cassie and Griffin to their nerve-wracking vigil.

  ***

  Two hours later, the pythia’s teeth were chattering. “My goddess, it’s cold up here!”

  Even though they both wore winter parkas, the wind cut through the layers of insulation as if their coats had been made of cheesecloth. Cassie could feel the icy sting of snowflakes on her face. She huddled closer to Griffin. He tentatively slipped his arm around her shoulders. They had retreated to the far end of Saptarishi Cave between the pedestals of the last two chortens, their backs exposed to the mountainside. The bedsheet-sized prayer flags strung from the golden spires concealed them from the front as they waited for the Nephilim to arrive.

  The pythia tensed when she heard the sound of falling gravel. She checked her watch again. It was two o’clock. “Say what you want about the Nephilim,” she whispered, “they’re very punctual.” She reached into her coat pocket and withdrew a compact stun gun. Handing it to Griffin, she explained, “Here, take this. I’ve got one too. If we’re both armed, we might stand a chance of making it through the night without getting shot.”

  Griffin wordlessly accepted the weapon and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

  Th
e crunch of footsteps on gravel became more distinct. Then flashlight beams illuminated the interior of the cave.

  Cassie and Griffin pressed back against the chortens as far as they could without falling off the ledge entirely. The prayer flags which concealed them also cut off their view. All they could see were rays of light through a thin sheet of fabric.

  At first, there was no sound but heavy breathing followed by a string of curses.

  “Every goddam time we go on one of these junkets, I end up with gravel twixt my toes.” It sounded as if Hunt had seated himself on the floor of the cave and was shaking out his boots. The cowboy’s voice carried to such a distance that even without the use of their sight, Cassie and Griffin knew exactly what the Nephilim operatives were up to.

  “Shhh!” Daniel hissed sharply.

  “Who the hell is gonna hear us way up here in God’s waitin’ room?”

  “I’ve been told that pilgrims sometimes camp out on the trail or even in the cave itself.”

  “In this cold?” The cowboy’s voice was filled with disbelief. “If’n they wanna die of frostbite maybe. I didn’t see no tents on our way up. You got a bead on anybody in here?”

  For one anxious moment, Cassie held her breath, wondering if the duo might actually make a thorough search of the cave. Her hand crept into the pocket that held her stun gun.

  “No, there’s no one here,” came Daniel’s quiet reply. “I’m just saying there might be.”

  “And there might be pixies dancin’ a conga line.” Hunt snorted in derision. “You got too much imagination, that’s your trouble.”

  “I’m not inclined to disagree with you,” the scion remarked ruefully.

  “Ain’t nobody around. Not even them three thieves who been doggin’ us since Day One. I ain’t seen hide nor hair of ‘em.”

  “Nor have I.” Daniel sounded mildly relieved.

  “And it’s a good thing too—for them. There’s scores that need settlin’, especially with Miss Cassie. If that scrappy little bitch ever comes at me again with that bug zapper of hers, I got a bullet with her name on it!”

  “Mr. Hunt!” The scion’s shocked voice echoed through the cave.

  Griffin’s arm tightened protectively around Cassie’s shoulder. She gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

  “Oh, don’t you go boneless on me now, boy. You know your daddy give me a job to do—grab the doodads and don’t let nothin’ get in the way. Right from the start, them three made a whole career out of gettin’ in the way. All I’m sayin’ is if they do it again, it’ll be for the last time!”

  “Fortunately, they haven’t shown themselves at all during this trip. Perhaps they’ve given up.”

  “Smartest thing they could do,” Hunt concluded. “Well, let’s get on with it then. We gotta climb down this mountain before daylight.” It sounded as if the cowboy had risen to his feet. “You shine that flashlight over here so’s I can see. Now, where did I stash that screwdriver?”

  For several minutes all was quiet as the two men worked at their task. Eventually, the sound of metal scraping against stone meant that the frame and sheet of glass had been removed.

  The cowboy uttered a cry of triumph. “Ha! Got it.”

  In the silence that followed, the relic was presumably being lifted from its niche.

  “Careful now, you don’t want to shake loose any of them shiny rocks on this doodad,” the cowboy cautioned.

  “I’ll be careful, Mr. Hunt. See, I’m lowering it very gently into my backpack. Are you happy now?”

  “I’ll be a mite happier when we get shed of this town. I never seen a place where folks can’t even figure out how to brew a pot of tea without it tastin’ like stewed cowhide.”

  “I should think you’d like it here,” the scion observed. “The Tibetans all seem to favor cowboy hats. You ought to feel right at home.”

  “And that’s another thing!” Hunt exclaimed in an offended tone. “How’s a body supposed to feel special when all and sundry are sportin’ his style? These here locals look like a cross between John Wayne and Fu Manchu. It just ain’t natural! The sooner I scrape the grit of this place off my boots, the happier I’ll be.”

  It sounded as if the cowboy was moving toward the entrance.

  “Are you just going to leave the frame lying there on the ground?” Daniel challenged.

  “What the hell am I gonna put it back for? It’s like shuttin’ the barn door after the horses run off!”

  “Very well,” the scion relented. “We should be on our way.”

  “Damn straight,” Hunt agreed. “Let’s get outta here.”

  Cassie could see the glow from their flashlights fade as they made for the opposite end of the cave.

  Fifteen minutes later, even the sound of their footfalls on the trail was gone.

  The pythia finally allowed herself to breathe. “Did that really just happen?”

  “What?” Griffin whispered back.

  “For the first time since...ever...our plan actually worked out the way we wanted it to. We were backed into a dead-end cave with those guys, and nobody got hurt. There’s something very wrong about that.”

  “One should never look a gift horse in the mouth,” the scrivener reminded her. He rose up from their cramped hiding place and stretched. “That feels infinitely better!”

  Cassie peeped out over the mountainside from between the chortens. She could see two lights bobbing far below her on the trail back to Darchen. “They’re not wasting any time,” she observed. Then she rose and stretched as well.

  The pair set to work placing the second false relic in the shrine niche. They then reattached the glass shield and its metal frame.

  Cassie consulted her watch. “How much lead time should we give them?”

  “That depends on how confident you feel.”

  “Of what?”

  “We can leave now if you don’t mind traveling in the dark. If we were to use our torches, Daniel and his minion might notice the lights on the path above them and come back to investigate.”

  “I see your point,” Cassie conceded. “Considering how often we’ve hiked this route in the past week, I could probably make the trip blind-folded.”

  “I expect that’s very nearly how it will feel,” Griffin remarked. “There’s no moon out tonight.”

  “Moon or no moon, I still want to get out of here ASAP,” the pythia urged. “The longer we hang around, the more we increase the odds that something will go wrong.”

  “My dear pythia, I had no idea you were such a fatalist,” Griffin teased.

  “Not a fatalist,” she corrected. “Just a realist. No matter how you try to fight it, Murphy’s Law will always apply and at the worst possible time.”

  Chapter 48—Murphy’s Codicil of Optical Occlusion

  Cassie and Griffin traveled down the mountain in silence. The journey was slower than the trip up since they’d dispensed with their flashlights to avoid being seen by Daniel and Hunt. Two hours on the path felt like four, but eventually the ground leveled out, and they knew they were approaching the base of the mountain.

  Cassie paused to catch her breath. “How much farther do you think it is?”

  “I’d say we’re no more than a mile away now.”

  “I heard a car motor a few minutes ago,” the pythia remarked. “Sound really travels out here in the middle of nowhere. Since everybody else in town is still tucked into their beds, I’m guessing the roar of that particular engine came from our Nephilim buddies hitting the road.”

  “Then it’s good riddance to bad rubbish,” said the scrivener.

  “As long as we know they’re gone, it should be safe to use our flashlights again.” The pythia switched hers on and checked the display on her watch. “4:30. That gives us an hour and a half before the sun comes up. We need to be out of Darchen by then.”

  They made quicker progress down the remainder of the trail with their lights to guide
them.

  “Almost there,” Cassie said when they were half a mile away from town.

  “And nothing terrible happened,” Griffin countered. “So much for that Murphy chap of yours. It’s merely a silly superstition to believe that if something can go wrong, it—”

  “Watch out!” The pythia’s warning came too late.

  Several dark figures swarmed from behind the boulders lining the trail, jumping Cassie and Griffin. Before the pair knew what was happening, they were body-slammed to the ground.

  Half a dozen voices were talking at once, demanding answers in a language Cassie didn’t understand. She blinked as half a dozen flashlights pointed their intrusive beams in her face.

  “What’s going on?” she asked dazedly. “Does anybody here speak English?”

  More voices joined the hostile chorus. Rough hands reached out to drag her toward some unknown destination. She stumbled up a rock-strewn path and was thrust inside a small tent. Griffin was propelled in after her. Two of their assailants followed and forced them to sit back-to-back against the central tent pole, tethering their hands to the stake with thick hemp rope.

  Without a word of explanation, their attackers left and shut the tent flap behind them. The voices outside continued to angrily debate some unknown topic.

  Cassie tried to twist around but couldn’t. “Griffin?” she called anxiously. “Are you alright?” She felt the reassuring pressure of his fingers looping through hers.

  “I’m fine, all things considered. And you?”

  “Other than a few bruises, I’m OK too,” she answered.

  The two of them sat back-to-back in silence for several moments, listening to the bellowing match outside.

  “That’s what you get for mocking Murphy,” Cassie said wryly. “Especially the dreaded Codicil of Optical Occlusion.”

  “The what?”

  “Murphy’s Codicil of Optical Occlusion. It’s an addendum to the other rules.”

  “You’re making that up, aren’t you?”