More Than You Know (32 page)

Macauley finished Cutch's sentence for him. “It was an accident. Is that what you're saying?"

Cutch nodded, regretting he had spoken up at all. Belatedly he understood that Stuart had put his question to Claire. Would the doctor never learn he had to say Claire's name when he wanted a response from her? “Somethin’ like that,” he muttered.

"What do you suppose the likelihood is of it being an accident?” Stuart asked.

Cutch threw up his hands. “Can't say."

Stuart looked at Rand. “Captain?"

"I wouldn't know."

There was a thread of enthusiasm in the doctor's voice now. He leaned forward eagerly, intent on making his point to the others. “But if it's not an accident, then the islanders were directed to place their tikis in just this fashion ... Or they were put there by someone other than the Solonesian priests."

"If it's not merely happenstance,” Claire reminded him.

The doctor's fiery brows came together as he shook his head vigorously. “It's not."

"Well,” Rand said dryly, “perhaps you can use this discovery to explain Stonehenge."

In spite of the chuckles Rand's comment prompted, Macauley Stuart pretended to give the suggestion full consideration. He responded in equally dry tones, “Perhaps I will. It would secure my place in history."

Claire's dark brows rose a notch. “I didn't know you aspired to such a place."

Macauley's genial smile took on a wry twist. “A footnote, to be sure. Nothing so preeminent as Hamilton-Waterstone."

Rand said nothing. He drew his stick across the sand map, erasing the furrows and moving the shells. What remained had no bearing to the path he and his small crew would take across Mauna Puka. Tossing the stick toward the water, Rand stood. Beside him Claire came to her feet. He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “Brown. Whittier. Get the gear. Cutch, take the others with you."

The rest of the group stood. The men divided off. Macauley looked to Rand as if he hoped to be reconsidered for joining the captain. When Rand said nothing, the doctor reluctantly placed himself with Cutch's crew.

Rand turned with Claire and began walking toward the foot of the mountain. “We're going to take the route that connects tikis as if they were on a single plane. Just like you connected them in the sand. That's not the route I took the men on yesterday."

"I've never done it that way before,” she said. “Tip and I worked our way side to side until we reached the top."

"There may be nothing to it,” Rand cautioned her. “I examined the tikis carefully and saw nothing. You've studied them too."

"Shouldn't Cutch be with us?” Claire heard footsteps behind them and realized Brown and Whittier were almost on their heels.

"It's not that I don't want him here,” he said. “But that I want him with the doctor more."

Claire's smile was gentle. “Dr. Stuart was hired to look after me, Rand. I don't think he sees our marriage as making any difference to his assignment."

"That would be one perspective,” said Rand.

Claire raised her head, her expression questioning. “What do you mean—” She broke off when Rand squeezed her arm. Brown and Whittier were now within earshot. Claire's thoughts went immediately in a different direction. She imagined the mountain looming darkly in front of her and the ferns and vines as almost impenetrable. “Do you really think I can do this?” she asked.

"You're dressed for it."

She laughed. On impulse she stepped around Rand so that he was forced to stop or knock her down. Claire threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the mouth. She heard Brown and Whittier chuckling as they marched past.

Rand grasped Claire's waist, holding her to him as she broke off the kiss. “What did I do to deserve that?” he asked.

"Complaining?"

Her coquettish smile was so at odds with her manner of masculine dress that Rand was moved to laughter. “No complaint. I was merely wondering how I might prompt a similar consequence in the future."

Claire took his arm again and nudged him to follow the path that Brown was widening in front of them. “It's your confidence in me,” she said simply. “I find I like it very much."

Rand sighed. “You might have told me it was an aphrodisiac before now."

Claire pinched his arm lightly as heat flushed her cheeks. Out of the corner of her mouth she said, “Think about the treasure."

"Oh,” he said. “I am.” He left it to Claire to imagine his wicked smile. The footing was more difficult now as they began to climb. He concentrated on keeping Claire sheltered at his side and on solid ground. To reach the first tiki did not require the use of the sling, but Rand harnessed Claire with the rope when they arrived at the outcropping of rock. That she understood the danger was evident by the fact that she didn't protest.

Brown and Whittier stayed at the edge of the clearing while Rand led Claire closer to the statue. The carving sat in isolation on a plateau of land that jutted forward from the mountain. Rand looked back once to be sure that Whittier had secured the harness and that his attention wasn't straying. The young man's eyes were fixed on Claire. He was prepared to haul her back if there was the slightest misstep.

The tiki stood a foot taller than Rand. The lines of the face were deeply carved, but the impression it left was one of wisdom, not alarm. Like all the tikis, this goddess's hands were resting across her rounded belly. To the rear her naked buttocks protruded at a sharper angle.

Rand placed Claire's hands on the tiki's shoulders. They looked pale and delicate against the dark stone. “Tell me the riddle again,” he said.

Claire spoke as she began exploring, looking for something this time that her eyes had never seen.
"At the end of one god's promise stand seven pagan sentinels. Seven rings but just one key. Silver, tin, and mercury. Iron bracelet, leaden chain, treasure lost, treasure gained. Copper circlet, crown of gold. Seven sisters flee the fold. Reunited, freed of curse; thy reward, the richest purse. Seven rings but just one key. Metals all of alchemy. With the sisters, this verse brings wealth beyond the dreams of kings."

Rand listened, surveying the statue with a critical eye. “She's not wearing any jewelry. No circlets, crowns, bracelets, or chains. The only circles she has are the ones around her eyes."

Claire raised herself on tiptoe and fingered the stone furrows carved out around the goddess's eyes. “There aren't seven rings here. Only two around each eye. Solonesian priests have similar circles tattooed around their eyes."

"If this tiki is one of the pagan sentinels,” Rand said, “then where are her rings?"

"Lift me,” Claire said. “Let me look at the top of her head."

Rand knelt and gave Claire a leg up. He gave her time to explore before he lowered her to the ground. “Anything?"

"As smooth as Mr. Cutch's head."

"That's not encouraging.” He went over what he could remember of the riddle in his own mind, then asked Claire to repeat it. “One god's promise,” he mused aloud. “Who's the most powerful god among the Solonesians?"

"Orono. He is the Solonesian equivalent to Oro in the Society Islands. Like Zeus and Jupiter in Greek and Roman mythology."

"Orono,” Rand repeated. “And what promise did he make?"

"I've never heard of one. Most of the stories I've listened to end with the spirit gods driving out the
papalagi
. The white man."

"I'm familiar with those. It seems to me this sort of promise should be older than the European threat. These islands were inhabited thousands of years before the Spanish and Portuguese found them."

"I agree, but I don't know of one."

Rand looked at the tiki again. The goddess's deeply carved smile no longer looked benign to him. “I think she's mocking us,” he said.

"That's because we're foolish
papalagi.
Let's go on. The riddle says there is just one key. What we're looking for could be on one of the others."

It was that thinking that kept them going right up through the fifth tiki. As Rand judged the angle of incline to the sixth statue, his interest in pursuing the last two began to wane. Claire sensed his hesitation.

"I'm not quitting now,” she said.

"Claire, it's fifty feet almost straight up to the next tiki."

"We knew that when we started this morning."

"I thought there would be something by now. Your riddle...” It was impossible to keep disappointment from straining his voice.

Claire touched his arm. “Rand,” she said softly. “If you're afraid for me, I'll wait here. But don't stop short because of me. I swear I'll go on alone."

Rand studied the tilt of Claire's chin. Tendrils of hair had escaped her braid. Damp wisps lay against her temples and forehead. There were tiny beads of perspiration across her upper lip. His shirt clung to the curve of her breasts. He watched her pluck at it, then fan her exposed throat. The harness looked as if it was chafing her shoulders. He gestured to Brown to bring a canteen of water forward. Claire drank greedily when it was thrust into her hands. She held it out for Rand when she was through.

"Mr. Brown and Mr. Whittier will take me if you don't,” she said while he drank.

Rand darted both men a glance and they looked quickly at the ground. He didn't know quite how to interpret their refusal to meet his eyes. He wondered if they would really go against his express wishes. Rand decided not to test them. He took a few swallows from the canteen and gave it back to Brown. “We'll rest a little longer,” he said, watching Claire. “Then we'll start climbing.” Her beatific smile rewarded his decision.

Rand leaned back against the tiki. There was no danger of the statue tipping. It easily weighed half a ton. Brown and Whittier stretched out beneath some palms. Whittier gave Claire a bit more lead on the harness so she could sit down. Her legs dangled over the outcropping.

"How high are we?” she asked.

"Ninety, ninety-five feet."

Claire let a breath out slowly and eased herself back a little. She heard Rand's short laugh. “It was always my idea to come up here,” she told him, “but Tipu had to coax me out to the tikis. He was a little monkey. Completely fearless. It wasn't like that for me. I wouldn't be sitting here if I could see."

Rand didn't respond. His eyes were trained off shore, first on
Cerberus,
then on the dark shadows riding the waves toward her. The shadows took shape slowly, rising and falling at first, then steady on the surface as they cut through one crest after another. Rand estimated the speed of the small outriggers at close to twelve knots. They glided across the water as a single mass, separated by only a few feet at starboard and port and again at stern and bow. There was a powerful beauty in their approach. Their masts bent like reeds, and their triangular sails bowed with captured wind. They sped forward as if guided by one hand. Like an army of ants their approach was relentless. They could have been the tentacles of a single organism.

What they were was an armada.

Over Claire's head Rand motioned to Brown and Whittier to direct their attention to the horizon. He placed a finger to his lips to warn them not to comment. Once the two men saw the advancing fleet of outriggers, an entire pantomime of orders and questions began.

Claire lifted her head, her brow furrowed. “Why is everyone flapping their arms?” she demanded. “Mr. Brown? Are you going to take flight?"

Brown, who had indeed been waving his arms to gesture his intention to leave the group and warn Cutch, let his hands fall to his side abruptly. He cleared his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing, and looked to Rand to provide an explanation.

"Mr. Brown is going to heed nature's call,” Rand said. He saw Brown's thin face turn a ruddy hue. “He was trying to be delicate about it."

"Oh.” Claire ducked her head.

Rand waved Brown on. The man tore through the ferns with little regard for the path that had already been cut. Rand bent and touched Claire's shoulder. “Let me help you up."

"Are we ready to go?” She gave him her hand and allowed Rand to pull her to her feet. “I confess I thought we would take a longer rest."

Rand didn't comment. He had no way of knowing if they had been seen on the ledge. The Solonesians had embraced some of the
papalagi's
ways. Telescopes were now a valued possession of the seafaring islanders. Rand took Claire's arm and hurried her away from the clearing where the tiki stood. The canopy of ferns and trees offered immediate shelter, but his haste raised Claire's suspicions.

"Something
is
wrong,” she announced. “You may as well tell me, Rand. My cooperation is so much easier to come by that way."

Rand grabbed Claire's harness at the back and thwarted any thoughts she had about taking it off. “I need you to do precisely as I say, Claire. Do you understand?"

"Yes,” she said, hearing his urgency clearly now. Nothing about his tone suggested this was negotiable. “Of course. Whatever you want."

He kissed the crown of her head, thanking her for not delaying him with questions. “I want you to stay here with Whittier. That's all you have to do."

Claire's hands folded into fists at her sides. It was the only way she could keep from reaching for him. She listened to him charge off with the same reckless speed that had driven Brown. “It is
not
a call of nature,” she said with quiet sarcasm.