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

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Race for the Flash Stone (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 2) Page 24

by K Patrick Donoghue


  Villahermosa, Mexico

  Jennifer stretched out on the hotel bed and yawned deeply. Kicking off her flats, she wiggled her toes and let the cool air soothe her aching feet. She had been tempted to wear her running shoes to the meeting at Parque-Museo La Venta but decided they might be too informal.

  Thus, she had been surprised when the museum curator, Rafael Jimenez, introduced himself wearing sneakers, a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. He had noticed her crestfallen look and said, “As you can see, La Venta is an outdoor museum. It gets too hot to dress up.”

  In sharp contrast to “Chuck” Goodwin, Rafael had been relaxed, open and quite helpful. He gave her a tour of the Olmec statues displayed around the park and then escorted her to his office. There, he had shown her a map of the La Venta archaeological site, roughly an hour’s drive away, where the Olmec statues were originally unearthed. He told her they discovered other artifacts there as well, including a half dozen stone bowls like the one they gave to Devlin.

  Handing him a picture of the Sinethal, she had asked if they found any comparable stone objects there. Rafael had said no, but then said he’d seen similar tiles in other museums in Central and South America.

  Jennifer then showed him the pictures of the statuettes and asked if they looked familiar. He looked long and hard at the dragon-head statue picture and said, “I have seen statues with similar headdresses, but not ones with such an angry face.”

  “Headdress?” Jennifer had asked.

  “Yes, you see here. It’s a fish head. The man’s head is inside the fish’s mouth.”

  “What? No, it’s a dragon’s head.”

  He examined Jennifer’s picture again while pulling on his beard. Finally, Rafael had looked up and said, “I don’t think so. Here, let me show you.”

  He banged on his computer keyboard and pulled up a picture of similar statues displayed in a museum. Only, these statues were enormous, much taller than the people gathered around them in the picture. He pointed at one statue which showed a lizard’s head with a man’s head in his jaws.

  In many ways, it looked like the dragon-head statuette in Devlin’s collection, except the lizard-headdress man carried a stoic expression. The figure sat on a bench with arms at his side and stared ahead. Jennifer looked at other statues on the computer screen. One had a headdress of an eagle, another of a jaguar. All of the men beneath the various headdresses exhibited the same blank stare.

  A fish head? Jennifer thought. Then she remembered the fish symbol on the back of the statue’s head. Of course, that’s it!

  “Where are these statues?” Jennifer had asked.

  “They are in a museum in Granada, Nicaragua.”

  “Where were they found? Originally?”

  “An island close to Granada called Zapatera.”

  Jennifer’s mind raced. She mumbled, “Why does that name sound familiar?”

  The answers had followed in quick succession. She gasped and asked Rafael for a printout of the pictures. Noticing the marked change in Jennifer’s disposition, he had asked if he’d said something to upset her. She assured him that wasn’t the case at all, she was just excited to finally learn the statuette’s origin.

  When she left the museum, she had called Anlon and Pebbles. They were equally as stunned to hear her news. They were even more stunned when she told them of the connections between the Granada statues and her earlier visits with Anabel and Goodwin.

  With the phone call completed, Jennifer had returned to the hotel and collapsed on the bed. Now, lying on her side, she closed her eyes and propped a pillow beneath her head. As she edged toward sleep, a text message alert sounded. It was followed shortly thereafter by another alert.

  Stretching across the bed, Jennifer dragged the phone off the nightstand and glanced at the screen with one eye. The messages were both from Griffin. Rolling on her back, she held the phone above her face and read the first text: “You’ve inspired me to write a new song.”

  Jennifer beamed when she looked below at the second message. It was an audio file attachment titled “Cuff Me.”

  CHAPTER 17

  OMETEPE

  Incline Village, Nevada

  August 25

  “Should we start with Zapatera?” Jennifer asked.

  Gathered in Anlon’s office, they stood before the wall map. Anlon said, “I thought about it, especially since it’s so close to Ometepe, but neither are marked on the Waterland Map.”

  Pebbles edged closer to the map. There were two pins dotting Nicaragua, a blue one marking Ometepe on the Pacific side and a black one on the Caribbean side. “So, you’re thinking we should start with the black pin here? Hit Ometepe and Zapatera afterwards?”

  “Yep, that’s where I was leaning. The black pin is in a nature reserve called Indio Maiz,” said Anlon. “It’s about two hundred and fifty miles by air from Ometepe. But, prepare yourselves. We might end up making multiple trips like Devlin did in the Caribbean.”

  “What do you mean?” Jennifer asked.

  “Well, it’s conjecture on my part, but I think Devlin ended up going to Guadeloupe and Martinique before Dominica because his map’s longitude and latitude markings were sketchy. Even though the islands are only one degree latitude apart, it still took him three trips to find the Maerlif.

  “I’ve tried to line up Devlin’s map the best I can, but it’s still imprecise. The scale of the map is so small, one degree off, latitude or longitude, could put us in the wrong place by seventy miles or more,” Anlon said. “Plus, it’ll be rough going, at least for me. Indio Maiz is a dense rainforest.”

  “Well, maybe we shouldn’t try until your leg is back at full strength,” Pebbles said. “Or, Jen and I could go without you.”

  “Not a chance,” said Anlon. “I’m going, I’ll just have to take it slow.”

  “Why not start with one of the islands instead?” Jennifer asked.

  “We could, but again, neither Ometepe or Zapatera is marked on Devlin’s map. Even though we’ve got some pretty clear signs that one or the other was important to Devlin, we don’t know why, we don’t know what to look for or where to start. At Indio Maiz, we know all three.”

  “Just playing devil’s advocate,” said Jennifer, “we do know Devlin was interested in volcanos, right? Can’t we limit our searches on the islands to volcanos? And we know he was looking for something to do with the little fish-man statue. Couldn’t we narrow our search further and focus in areas near the volcanos where the life-sized statues were found?”

  Anlon folded his hands together and steepled his fingers. “It’s a thought. I talked to Cesar Perez yesterday and he said Ometepe is an archaeological playground. He told me there are lots of petroglyphs on Concepción, one of the island’s volcanos. We could go there and see if any of the glyphs look Munuorian, but Cesar said it would be hard to get close to the glyphs without permission. He offered to join us in Nicaragua and help us get ‘inside the ropes’ on Ometepe. Only trouble is, he can’t break away for another week.”

  “Then, let’s just wait a week and start with Ometepe,” Pebbles said.

  Anlon scratched his head and frowned. “I’m cool with waiting for Cesar. If we do find any artifacts, it would be good to have a real, live archaeologist with us. But, I don’t know, I feel like we should concentrate on finding the Stones first. The thought of Navarro getting there before us bugs me.”

  “I hear you,” Jennifer said, nodding. “But he may have already gone to Indio Maiz, right? We know he tried Brazil. Wouldn’t Indio Maiz be a logical next stop?”

  “And don’t forget Margaret Corchran. She may be out there somewhere, too,” Pebbles added. “Not trying to be a buzzkill, but Margaret and Navarro probably don’t know about Ometepe, right? Wouldn’t it be safer to start there or Zapatera?”

  Anlon peered at the blue pushpin anchored in the Nicaraguan lake. Ometepe was surely the more prudent option, but it was also the more speculative one. If not for the one-word mention of the island in Devlin’
s journal, Anlon never would have given the place a look.

  The fish-man statuette, however, changed all that. Ometepe offered a chance to bring clarity to Devlin’s odd journal entries, and an opportunity to understand his concern about time. But was that enough to put Ometepe ahead of Indio Maiz? If the priority was to confirm Anlon’s reading of the map and find an undisturbed cache of Stones, then Indio Maiz was the place to start.

  This was especially true given Malinyah’s demonstration of the Tuliskaera. It was just as lethal as Pacal had boasted. Such a weapon in the wrong hands would be frightening. And Navarro and Margaret seemed the very definition of “wrong hands.”

  Yet, if Cesar’s Rivers of Gold hunch was right, Navarro was thinking like a miner, not a despot. But how long would it take him to go from one to the other? Despite the Argentinian’s blustery bravado, he was an adversary to respect…and to fear.

  And what of Margaret Corchran? Was she still alive? If so, was she in any condition to move about? A machete clear through the abdomen and a garroted throat? The loss of blood alone should have killed her, but she somehow managed to elude capture again. Unless her dead body was discovered, they couldn’t count her out. Wounded or no, she had already proven herself a ruthless killer.

  And where the hell was Thatcher Reynolds? They hadn’t discussed him since Margaret popped up in Brazil. He was the most elusive of the three, and the one with the prime interest in the Tuliskaera, albeit as a middleman. Without knowing who was pushing his buttons, there was no way to know their intentions. At least Thatcher didn’t get the Waterland Map, thought Anlon. But who was to say he or his confederates wouldn’t try again?

  Anlon put an arm around Pebbles and said, “I don’t know, Pebbles. My heart says Ometepe, but my head says Indio Maiz. We’ll have to keep a sharp eye out, but I think we need to take the risk and try Indio Maiz first. What do you think, Jen?”

  “If time is a consideration, I agree Indio Maiz should come first. But, if we run into any of the bad guys, we back off. Agreed? No throwdowns.” Jennifer cringed as the pun rolled off her tongue.

  With the decision made, Jennifer turned and picked up the fish-man statuette from Anlon’s desk. She held it up to Raphael’s printout tacked on the wall next to the map and asked, “Why do you think the face is so different from the Zapatera statues?”

  “I don’t know,” said Anlon. “I emailed Cesar a copy of the picture and asked him the same thing. He didn’t have an answer.”

  Pebbles cocked her head to one side. “You know, I’m not sure I’d say it’s an angry face. It looks more pained to me.”

  “I agree,” Jennifer said. “But, the sword in the fish-man’s hand makes it look like he’s ready to attack.”

  “Yeah, but Malinyah said the Munuorians didn’t use swords,” Pebbles said. Then she grumbled, “It’s the only thing she has to say about it.”

  “Really?” Jennifer asked.

  Pebbles nodded. She’d visited with Malinyah twice since first asking about the dragon-head figurine, and both times Malinyah deflected conversation about the statue. One of those visits occurred prior to Jennifer’s discovery.

  In the second visit, after Jennifer’s trip to Villahermosa, Pebbles revised her description of the statue and told Malinyah it wasn’t a dragon-head, but a man wearing a headdress that looked like a fish head. She again mentioned the fish symbol on the back of the headdress and reminded Malinyah that legends about her people referred to the Munuorians as the fish men. Malinyah claimed anew she had no knowledge of the statue, and she repeated the tidbit about the sword.

  Jennifer examined the sword. She ran a finger over the long, jagged object and asked, “What if it’s not a sword?”

  Anlon peeked over her shoulder. “What else could it be?”

  She handed the statue to Anlon. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Maybe it’s a stick on fire, or a snake or maybe — you know, come to think of it, I’d say it looks like a lightning bolt. Maybe he’s being electrocuted.”

  “Hmmm, maybe,” Anlon said. The jagged protrusion flared into curls along the length. It was an odd way to depict lightning, but it was conceivable. Pebbles said Malinyah was adamant the Munuorians didn’t use swords. But…they did use fire. And they surely knew how to produce electricity.

  Jennifer asked, “What did Cesar have to say about the Ometepe statues?”

  “Not much more than you learned about the Zapatera statues. Most of them are huge, like six to nine feet tall. Cesar said they’ve been dated to 1500 B.C.E., but he also said the support for the estimate is weak. He said it’s possible they are far older. Oh, I did learn one thing new. Guess what they’re cut from?”

  They looked up in unison. A smile spread across his face. “Olivine basalt.”

  “But these are reddish. I thought you said olivine was blackish-green?” Pebbles asked.

  “That’s true, I did say that. But these statues have been sitting out in a hot, humid rainforest for at least thirty-five hundred years. A rainforest that sits damn near the Pacific Ocean. All that salty, moist air can easily turn olivine a red-brown color. It’s rust, essentially.” Shuffling between the boxes, Anlon reached for a basalt rock on the bookshelf and brought it back to Pebbles. “Like this one here.”

  “Is the fish-man basalt?” Jennifer asked.

  “It is,” said Anlon. “Same as the Stones, although it doesn’t have kimberlites mixed in.”

  Jennifer thought of her follow-up phone call with Anabel. “I still don’t buy Anabel’s explanation.”

  “What did she say, exactly?” Anlon asked.

  “She said she didn’t make the connection between the two pictures.”

  “They do look quite different,” Pebbles said. “You didn’t notice it either before you showed her the photos.”

  “I guess that’s true,” acknowledged Jennifer, “but my gut tells me she knows more than she’s saying. I wish I understood why she’s holding back.”

  “Could be lots of reasons,” Anlon said.

  “Such as?” Jennifer looked at Anlon expectantly.

  “Maybe she doesn’t want to get involved; maybe it brings back bad memories,” Pebbles suggested.

  “Hmmm. Maybe, but why didn’t she just say that? Instead, when I asked her how she knew the Sinethal was Devlin’s special stone, she stumbled all over herself. She didn’t do any better when I probed her about the map.”

  “Well, we have to take her at her word for now,” Anlon said.

  “Yeah, I guess.” Trying to shake the gnawing feeling from her mind, Jennifer changed topics. “Can we deal with some logistical matters? When we get to Nicaragua, how are we going to find the vault, and how do we open it?”

  “We’re definitely going to need Malinyah’s help,” Anlon said. “Devlin pretty much used the same methods to search each of the Caribbean islands. He obviously got some insight from Malinyah but not enough to make his job easy.”

  “What do you mean?” Jennifer asked.

  “He wasn’t able to find a way into the Dominica vault. He found the Breylofte petroglyph, and his journal says he tried to use a Breylofte to find the entrance, but it didn’t work. I’m wondering if he missed something Malinyah tried to share with him, especially since he couldn’t understand the Munuorian language.”

  “But, Anlon, you said you think Dobson found the gold on Dominica, right?” Jennifer asked. “Didn’t he follow Devlin’s notes?”

  “He did. Or, at least I think that’s what the yellow highlighter implies. But, I don’t know. It is puzzling how he found the entrance and Devlin didn’t.”

  “Well, let’s stop guessing,” Pebbles said. “I’ll ask her right now how to find a vault.”

  “And how to open it. We need to know that, too,” Anlon said.

  Anlon and Jennifer stood by the hearth as Pebbles reclined on the living room sofa. She rested the Sinethal on her lap and reached for the Naetir. Smiling at the two of them, she said, “Hopefully, she doesn’t get grouchy like the last c
ouple of times!”

  Malinyah was normally expansive in her answers and welcomed follow-up questions. But the questions about her Sinethal and the fish-man statue touched some nerve. When Pebbles asked about the artifacts, Malinyah’s answers turned curt and dismissive. They were also tinged with a surge of emotion that Pebbles still didn’t understand. A cold, stern feeling passed through Pebbles whenever they talked about the objects.

  It was so strange. In her last visit, they had a lovely time together until Pebbles raised the subject of the statue. The visit started out with a conversation about the map, and Malinyah was very candid describing why the Stones were cached and why she made the map. She showed Pebbles visions of the map and other bits of the preparations they had made ahead of Munirvo. She even showed a touching vision of her farewell with Mereau.

  During the conversation, Malinyah told Pebbles that her role among the Andaers was to safeguard the Lifintyls. She said once it became clear Munirvo would be far worse than originally expected, she made the decision to take a portion of their Lifintyl inventory and store them along their trade routes. It was a precaution to ensure their precious Tyls would survive if Munuoria took a direct hit from a piece of the asteroid.

  While Mereau and his captains made their last run for provisions, Malinyah sent other ships to store sets of the Tyls at a dozen locations. She gave them guidance on where to store them, but the ship captains ultimately decided on the final spots. When they returned, she updated the map based on the final placements.

  When she showed Pebbles the map, Pebbles noticed it was different from Devlin’s landscape. They’d always assumed Devlin used the Waterland Map as a proxy for Malinyah’s map, but they weren’t identical. For one thing, on Malinyah’s map, some locations were well inland, whereas on Devlin’s map they were all shown on or near coastlines. Pebbles also asked her about Devlin’s color coding because Malinyah’s vision of the map showed only one mark at each site. Malinyah was puzzled and could offer no explanation.

 

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