Race for the Flash Stone (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 2)

by K Patrick Donoghue

  Upon wedging their way through the front door, Sydney Armstrong spotted Pebbles immediately. Taller than average, she stood out in most crowds. When combined with her colorful, spiky hair, she was unmistakable. He waved to her and pushed through the throng to greet them.

  When he got to Anlon, he called above the din, “Anlon! I’m so happy to see you!”

  “Likewise, Syd,” Anlon said with a smile. “It’s good to be back.”

  “We’ll fatten you up, don’t you worry!” Sydney assured him. “Come, let’s get you out of this melee. I’ve blocked off the entire courtyard for you.”

  The “courtyard,” as Sydney deemed it, was a small deck attached to the bar that accommodated four tables. It was quiet when the leading door was closed, and there was a gap between the surrounding pines to catch a glimpse of the lake a thousand feet down the mountainside. Reserved normally for cozy, romantic gatherings, it afforded diners the chance to chat without the need to shout.

  Settled around a table, they placed drink orders and chatted about Anlon’s new neighbor, Griffin Taylor. Known to the rest of the world as “Bones,” Griffin was the lead guitarist for the popular metal band Ice Zombies. He had moved into the lodge abutting Anlon’s property the month prior. Anlon expressed surprise that Griffin had yet to throw an all-out bash. “Isn’t that what rockers do?”

  “Not this one,” Jennifer said with a shake of her head. “He’s into his privacy more than you are!”

  She explained that Griffin purchased the home to escape the craziness of “La La Land,” and that he favored the comparative tranquility of Tahoe’s north shore. Pebbles teased her for the insider tidbit and prodded Jennifer to share more revelations gleaned from her “private” chats with their famous neighbor. Anlon sputtered, “What? Did I miss something?”

  Jennifer truncated Pebbles’ inquisition. “Okay! Enough about me! Besides, aren’t we here to talk about the Stones?”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” said Pebbles. Turning to Anlon, she nudged his shoulder and said, “You’ve been all shushy since Devlin’s stuff arrived. We’re dying to know what you’ve been up to!”

  “Hey, there’s a lot to sort out, you know!” he said.

  Just then, the waiter appeared through the bar’s side door with their drinks. Once distributed, he asked if they were ready to order dinner. Anlon started to speak, but Pebbles cut him off. “You don’t eat until you start talking.”

  “You’re…evil,” he said, laughing. “Can I at least have a sip of my beer first?”

  Turning to Jennifer, Pebbles asked, “Should we allow it?”

  “Hmmm…I don’t know…”

  Before they could object, Anlon smiled and whisked down a few hearty gulps. Plunking the half-empty glass on the table, he stared off toward the lake and gathered his thoughts.

  “I’m sorry. It’s been frustrating,” he said. “Guess I should have brought you both in earlier, but there are just so many damn threads. I thought I could put some of them together before I asked for your help. But, honestly, I’ve gone about as far as I can on my own.”

  Pebbles said, “Well, we are ready to help. More than ready, right, Jen?”

  Jennifer nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “So, tell us about your threads, and let’s start knocking ’em out,” said Pebbles.

  He paused for a moment and then said, “I guess the hardest part’s been trying to figure out where to concentrate first. I know we’re all fascinated by the Stones, and I want to learn more about them too, but there are other things at play.”

  “Such as?” Pebbles asked.

  “Well, first and foremost, I want to honor Devlin’s legacy. He devoted a decade of his life to prove the mythical ‘fish men’ truly existed. And as far as I’m concerned, prove it he did. But, to the rest of the world, the evidence is incomplete.”

  “What do you mean?” Pebbles asked. “Aren’t the Stones all the proof necessary? Especially, the Master Stone…I mean…Sinethal? Who could meet Malinyah and not come away believing the Munuorians existed?”

  “I don’t disagree. But that’s not how other archaeologists will see it. Sure, they’ll be bowled over when they view the Stone, but they’ll want more than that,” Anlon said.

  “Like what?” Jennifer asked.

  “Well, I’m sure they’ll ask many questions. Annoying, but necessary questions. Such as, where did the Master Stone come from?”

  “Sinethal, Anlon. It’s called the Sinethal,” Pebbles corrected.

  Anlon swirled the remaining IPA in his glass. “Fine. Sinethal. Where did it come from?”

  “Devlin found it in a museum, right?” Jennifer asked.

  He shook his head and set the glass down.

  Pebbles leaned in. “Wait, I thought they found all the Stones in museums?”

  “So did I,” Anlon said.

  “I don’t understand.” Pebbles looked at Jennifer and then back at Anlon.

  “Me neither. I’ve been through every box of his records and every file on his computer. There is no mention of the Sinethal or any description of an artifact fitting its description. The other Stones all came from museums. I found detailed inventory records for each in Devlin’s artifact catalogue file, but zippo for the Sinethal,” he said.

  “How bizarre,” Jennifer said. “I thought Pacal told us it was found in a museum.”

  “Nope. My memory might be hazy, or maybe the beating he gave me knocked it out of me, but I don’t think he ever said that.” Anlon stretched out his stiff legs. “We don’t even know for sure when Devlin found it. All we know is, several days before he was killed he begged George Grant to hold it in his office safe.

  “The more I’ve thought about it, I think it’s a reason, if not the reason, Devlin didn’t go public with his discovery. Imagine if he stood before the world and revealed the Sinethal and Malinyah without documenting the Stone’s origin. They’d call it a hoax and laugh him out of the room.

  “I think Devlin wanted more evidence. Maybe Malinyah can provide us with that evidence, but I don’t think the academic and scientific world will accept Malinyah’s word. They’ll want more proof. Physical proof, if possible.”

  Pebbles was about to speak when the waiter returned for their dinner orders. At the same time, Sydney stepped outside to check on them. He suggested they let him craft several dishes for them. They enthusiastically agreed and returned to their conversation.

  Pebbles went first. “So, how are we going to get proof? The Waterland Map?”

  Anlon rolled his eyes and put his head between his hands. “Gah! Don’t get me started on that damn map!”

  “Why? What’s wrong with it?” asked Jennifer.

  “It’s impossible to read. I’ve tried several different approaches. So far I’ve struck out on every one,” he said.

  “But, the longitude and latitude grid?” Pebbles asked. “I thought all we had to do was layer the Waterland Map over a current world map?”

  “Tried that. All the marked sites end up in the oceans,” Anlon said. “Then, I thought, well, if the world turned upside down like the great flood myths say, maybe we just need to turn the map upside down. That did result in a few of the marks ending up on land, but most were still in the oceans. Mind you, it’s entirely plausible that some of the sites are under water now.”

  Pebbles reflected on the story Malinyah shared about the asteroid’s brush with Earth. “I see what you mean,” she said. “Malinyah said the Stones were stashed before the flood, so you’re right, some might have been wiped out.”

  Anlon nodded. “Exactly. Then, I went fishing through Devlin’s papers and computers again and found the three notebooks you two discovered at Dobson’s house. When I first looked through them, I was sure they would help. They are clearly field journals of sites Devlin searched for more of the Stones, but I don’t know why he picked them. They’re all islands. There’s no mention of the map in the notes, just coordinates he searched. I tried several ways to maneuver the Waterland M
ap in order to line up the three sites, but no combination worked.”

  “How odd,” Pebbles mumbled.

  “What’s that?” Anlon asked.

  “Oh, I was just trying to remember what Malinyah said about the map, and I just realized I never asked her about it. We talked about the asteroid, and the flood, and going to help the survivors, but I don’t think we ever discussed the map,” she said.

  “Well, maybe she can help us, I don’t know. It’s one topic, among many, we should talk to her about,” Anlon said.

  Pebbles’ ears perked up at Anlon’s comment. “You mean you’re finally going to get the Sinethal out of storage?”

  “Yeah, it’s time. I’m sure Antonio will be happy to get the last of Devlin’s things out of his hair. I don’t think we can go much further without Malinyah’s feedback.”

  There was a break in the conversation as Sydney emerged through the bar door with two waiters bearing their dinner: grilled coho salmon topped with a blueberry compote, steamed red king crab, asparagus sautéed with crumbled bacon, loaded baked potatoes and crispy sourdough rolls served with rock-salt-infused butter.

  When the family-style platters landed on the table, Anlon stared at the dishes with lusty eyes. “Mmmm…bacon.”

  Jennifer laughed. “Really? Bacon? What about the salmon? The crab?”

  “You don’t understand,” Anlon said. “It’s a cruel fate to smell bacon and know you can’t eat it.”

  Without further banter, they disappeared into the meal’s varied flavors. Sydney returned to uncork a vintage California Chardonnay and joined them for a toast to Anlon’s revived health. Outside of that interruption, they dined in silence. Anlon ate slowly, savoring each bite. It wasn’t his first solid-food meal since regaining the use of his jaws, but his teeth reveled in every crunch.

  After dinner, it was Jennifer who restarted the conversation. She said, “So, we have two threads to pursue: the origin of the Sinethal, and sorting out how to read the map. Is that it?”

  “Um, no. Not by a long shot,” Anlon said.

  “What? Wait. There’s more?” Pebbles asked.

  “Heck, yeah. You know those notebooks I mentioned? Well, in one of them, there’s a very strange passage…and an out-of-context drawing. I don’t know if they’re related, but it sure feels that way when I look at the pages.”

  “Well…?” Jennifer prompted, her fork and knife poised in the air.

  “You remember Devlin’s statues? The ones Dobson stole, and the ones Navarro came looking for?”

  “Yeah, the Easter Island–looking dude and the oriental one,” Pebbles said.

  “Exactly! Devlin drew a picture of the oriental statue next to a frantic passage about time running out,” said Anlon.

  “Why?” Jennifer asked.

  “You tell me,” said Anlon.

  Sydney reappeared to ignite a fire tower beside their table while the waitstaff cleared the dishes. The guests extolled praise for the excellent dinner, which caused the humble restauranteur to blush bright red. A moment later, another attendant appeared bearing the bistro’s signature dessert, Baked Sierra. The attendant handed the dessert tray to Sydney, who proudly placed it in the center of the table.

  Armed with spoons, the three took turns dipping through the meringue shell to extract scoops of cinnamon ice cream and gingerbread cake.

  Sydney peeked outside and asked, “How is it?”

  Pebbles thrust a thumbs-up while Anlon said, “Amazing, Syd! All of it.”

  Sydney smiled and bowed. “It’s great to have you back, Doc!”

  “It’s better to be back, Syd,” said Anlon.

  Anlon and Jennifer exchanged silent smiles while Pebbles attacked the melting concoction with ferocious intensity. Anlon teased, “Easy there, kiddo. You’ll get brain freeze!”

  Pebbles looked up from the plate long enough to mumble an unintelligible retort. Meringue dotted her chin, cheeks and the tip of her nose. Jennifer whisked out her phone and snapped a memorializing pic. A muffled “not fair” sounded from Pebbles’ full mouth.

  Jennifer pushed back from the table and sipped her wine. Holding up three fingers of her free hand, she said, “So, find the Sinethal origin, decode the map, sort out the statue. What’s next?”

  “The Flash Stone,” said Anlon. “If Pacal wasn’t lying, Thatcher Reynolds was after the Flash Stone.”

  “Tuliskaera,” mumbled Pebbles through the last of the Baked Sierra. “Malinyah called the Flash Stone the Tuliskaera. She said it means ‘fire cutter’ in their language.”

  “Right,” said Anlon. “Pacal said it was a weapon that makes the Sound Stone look like a twig.”

  Pebbles corrected Anlon again: “Breylofte. The Sound Stone is called the Breylofte.”

  “Yada, yada,” Anlon said. “We need to find the Tuliskaera before Thatcher.”

  “But, we need the map for that, right?” Jennifer said.

  “Yes. See, I told you, lots of threads,” Anlon said.

  “What about Navarro? Margaret Corchran? She got away with a copy of the map,” reminded Pebbles.

  “Two more threads,” Anlon said with a nod. “Gotta tell you, though, I find it hard to believe they’ll figure out the map before we do.”

  He turned to Jennifer. “By the way, any news from your colleagues about Thatcher, Navarro or Margaret?”

  She shook her head. “No, I spoke to Dan Nickerson a couple days ago. Margaret and Thatcher are still missing. Navarro’s been quiet since he beat out extradition.”

  With the Baked Sierra conquered, Anlon divvied the last of the Chardonnay and said, “Well, on the bright side, I’ve made some progress figuring out how the Munuorians developed their power to manipulate magnetism and how they made the Stones. I’ve been hoping to test the theories out, but I need a willing test subject.”

  His eyes were glued to Pebbles as she sipped her wine. Lowering the glass, she said, “Is this about the blood sample you wanted?”

  He nodded. “Partially.”

  “No way, I don’t like needles!” she said.

  Anlon frowned and pointed to her nose stud, eyebrow rings and the hummingbird tattoo on her neck. He said, “Should I go on?”

  She said, “They’re different, and you know it.”

  “I hoped you might make an exception in the name of science,” he said. “But I’ll withdraw the request if you help me with a different experiment…one that doesn’t involve needles.”

  “What kind of experiment?” Pebbles warily asked.

  “A memory exercise,” said Anlon.

  CHAPTER 5

  MAPS and MYSTERIES

  Incline Village, Nevada

  August 6

  Anlon stretched his legs and lowered the notebook to his lap. Hoping to push yet another of Devlin’s riddles from his thoughts, he closed his eyes and focused on the tune echoing from Incline Beach. He smiled with surprise as a group of teenagers began to sing along with a sixties classic: “Hey, hey, hey…that’s what I say…”

  With cascading effect, the young crooners inspired others to add their voices. First came fellow sun worshipers on the beach. Then, patrons milling at the dockside bar. Soon, the infectious melody spread to a scattering of boats floating in the bay, and the recorded song was drowned out by the collection of live performers.

  Caught up in the spontaneous revelry, Anlon bobbed his head and tapped the notebook in rhythm. By the time Mick Jagger bemoaned his lack of satisfaction, Anlon had joined in as well. It felt surprisingly good to hear his own voice sing again.

  When it ended, all around celebrated with hoots and applause. Anlon clapped too and took an anonymous bow for his participation. It was a nice change to sit on the patio and enjoy Tahoe’s charms without carrying the full burden of unraveling Devlin’s research. Now that Pebbles and Jennifer were diving in to help, Anlon looked forward to spending more time reacclimating to the life he enjoyed prior to Devlin’s death.

  First though, there were two problems to solve. Prob
lem number one was the Waterland Map. The document remained undeciphered. Problem number two was the matter of Devlin’s erratic actions in the months leading up to his death. From the incomplete clues Devlin left behind, it was evident he was trying to find something very specific. Something to do with the Munuorians and their Stones. And whatever it was, it troubled Devlin. Deeply. Anlon was determined to discover the source of Devlin’s angst.

  Anlon gazed down at the pocket-sized notebook in his lap. Its scribbled title read, Dominica. On the table next to him sat two other notebooks, Guadeloupe and Martinique. Anlon was convinced the notebooks held the clues to interpret the Waterland Map and Devlin’s peculiar actions.

  His uncle had used the notebooks to detail his observations from field trips to the three Caribbean islands in the months prior to his May death. Devlin had first visited Martinique in January. Then came Guadeloupe in February and finally Dominica in March.

  For the most part, the three journals were alike. On each island, Devlin surveyed different geographic locations and landmarks and then recorded his findings. At first glance, it appeared the island visits were expeditions to find a cache of Munuorian Stones. But, then Anlon found confusing entries in the Dominica book that seemed at odds with that conclusion. Given the confusing entries and the fact that Dominica was the last island Devlin searched before his murder, Anlon considered it the most important of the three.

  However, before diving into the Dominica journal, there were several overarching questions about the Caribbean expeditions that demanded Anlon’s attention. What led Devlin to focus on the three islands? Was there a connection between them? Was there a reason for the order in which they were searched? While Anlon had yet to arrive at definitive answers, he had developed a theory that seemed to tie together a solution for all three questions.

  He initially focused on Devlin’s choice of the three islands. It seemed a reasonable assumption that Devlin selected the sites from the Waterland Map, but until Anlon deciphered the map, it was impossible to prove whether his assumption was correct. Yet, there were some clues to support the assumption based on what Anlon knew of the map already…