Secrets Of The Serpent's Heart (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 6) (12 page)

Griffin took a few moments to consider the question. “There are a number of contributing factors but, if I had to pick the most important one, I’d choose the horse.”

“Really?” Cassie’s tone was dubious. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

“Hear me out,” the Scrivener protested. “Try to imagine how it felt to be the first nomad to ride. Previously this man, whoever he was, had lived his life on foot. He’d been forced to migrate immense distances carrying all his possessions on his own back and would have been lucky to travel twenty miles in a day. Now, for the first time, he could control a beast many times his own size. He could make it stop. He could make it turn. He could make it run as fast as the wind. He could use its speed to plunder unprotected villages. What a fatuous sense of omnipotence the horse must have conveyed to its rider. If he could impose his will so easily on an animal, why not a captured woman? Why not a neighboring tribe? Why not the entire world?”

“If you could bottle Eau De Narcissism, I’m pretty sure that’s what it would stink like,” the Pythia remarked caustically.

“You’re quite right,” Griffin concurred. “It is a form of narcissism, isn’t it? But, of course, the horse tempted its rider to overreach himself. The first opportunistic young male who formed a raiding party wanted dominance. Astride a horse, he could have it. Seated high above his fellow creatures, he could look down on the earth he’d once crawled across.”

“Like a god,” Rou murmured despondently. “It went to their heads.”

“Exactly so!” Griffin exclaimed, regarding the girl with newfound respect. “In a very literal sense it went to their heads because on horseback they were no longer grounded. Their mythology came to reflect that rootless perspective. Rather than worshipping earth goddesses who lived in nature, they adored sky gods ensconced above it all.”

“OK, you’ve convinced me.” Cassie sighed. “Wherever the horse goes, trouble follows.”

“You’re more right than you realize,” the Scrivener said. “The corrupting influence of the horse wasn’t limited to the steppe nomads of Eurasia. The same phenomenon occurred in America. The Comanche were once a peaceful, gender-equal tribe of gatherer-hunters. A few generations after they acquired horses, they became a male-dominated, slave-owning, polygamous, warrior culture. Contrary to what you might expect, most of their aggression was directed toward other Native Americans. It is estimated that Comanche raiding parties abducted as many as twenty thousand women and children from neighboring tribes to be used as forced labor. Of course, the males on the losing side of the conflict were immediately massacred.”

“I’m sorry I asked.” Cassie’s voice held a note of disgust.

Jun scowled as he surveyed the peaceful green park dotted with mass graves. “Considering Cassie’s unfortunate reaction to the oracle pit, perhaps we shouldn’t attempt to walk through the grounds any further.”

“Too much death here,” Rou agreed.

“You don’t need to twist my arm,” the Pythia said. “I’ve felt enough for one day.”

They rose and ambled back toward their car.

“I don’t imagine this tour has brought us any closer to our Minoan friends,” Griffin hinted.

Cassie paused, silently assessing something. “You know, it’s funny. When we arrived in Lanzhou, I could hear a little voice in my head saying, ‘You’re getting warmer.’ Now that we’re here in Anyang, I feel as if we’ve overshot the mark.”

“I’m sorry,” Jun sounded deeply apologetic. “These are the major sites along the Yellow River. I can’t think of any other places to show you.”

Cassie stared moodily out the window of her Anyang hotel room at the lights of the city. She’d just returned from dinner with the group and was vainly trying to clear her head after the events of the day. Being buried alive was proving to be a persistently memorable experience. A gentle tap on the door interrupted her thoughts. She eyed the digital clock on the nightstand. It was 8 PM. With a weary groan, she answered the summons.

“May I come in?” Griffin asked.

She nodded and motioned him inside.

The Scrivener carried his notebook computer under one arm. “I thought this might help.”

Cassie glanced behind him after he entered. “Where are the Zhangs?”

He set up his PC on the table. “I convinced them that it might be better if you and I worked on our geographic problem alone.”

“Good idea.” Cassie pulled out one of the chairs and sat down next to him. “I’d prefer to do this techno-dowsing experiment without an audience. I hate the idea of letting them down again.”

“They do seem to be taking our lack of progress quite personally,” Griffin agreed. He waited for the computer to establish a WiFi connection.

“I wish I could convince them that it’s not their fault.” The Pythia sighed.

The Scrivener typed a few keystrokes and a map of China popped up on his screen. He zeroed in on the northern section of the country. “This is where we are.” He pointed to Anyang in Henan Province.

Cassie tapped her chin, considering. “Could you pan out a little?”

Griffin expanded the view to include the surrounding area.

The Pythia scowled in concentration. “Show me the entire river.”

Griffin typed in a new search criteria and a map of the whole country appeared with two blue lines running parallel to one another on their way to the Pacific Ocean.

Cassie traced her finger along the course of the Yellow River from its headwaters in the Himalayas to its mouth at the Bohai Sea. She repeated the gesture, this time stopping at Lanzhou. “This is where we started to go off-course,” she murmured half to herself. “It was the last place where I felt we were getting warmer. Now that we’re in Anyang, the trail’s gone completely cold.” Her finger meandered down the page and hovered at a spot near the city of Chengdu. “What’s here?” she asked.

“Not the Yellow River, I can assure you. That’s the Yangtze.”

“Hmmm.” Cassie’s index finger moved to the left of the spot she’d been pointing to. “Can you magnify this area instead?”

“Certainly.”

The screen displayed the more southerly of China’s two great rivers.

The Pythia once more started tracing the river’s route from its headwaters in the Himalayas very close to where the Yellow River began. The Yangtze, however, traveled directly south for half its length before veering sharply eastward and emptying into the ocean at Shanghai. Cassie’s finger paused over the bend. “Zoom in here,” she ordered.

Griffin silently complied.

The Pythia pointed to a dot indicating the town of Lijiang. It appeared to be directly south of Lanzhou by about seven hundred miles. “I’m feeling a strong pull around this town. I’m pretty sure this is the way the Minoans went.”

“I can’t imagine why.” Griffin’s tone was perplexed. “The region’s only distinguishing characteristic is that the Yangtze River makes a ninety degree turn and travels east near Lijiang.”

The Pythia stifled a yawn. “I’m not up to digging any farther into the town’s lore tonight. Why don’t we tell Jun about my hunch in the morning? He might be able to give us a quick rundown and save us hours of online searching.”

Griffin studied her face intently. “You’re utterly knackered, aren’t you?”

“I guess so, if knackered means I feel like I’ve been crunched in a carpet roller.” She gave him a wan smile. “Being buried alive can sure take it out of a person.”

His expression grew somber. “It was thoughtless of me to bother you with this nonsense right now. Sadly, not the first mistake I’ve made today.” He rose and hurriedly packed up his computer.

Cassie followed him to the door. “Meet you in the dining room for breakfast?”

“What?” Lost in thought, Griffin seemed not to have heard her.

She repeated her question.

“Oh, yes. Absolutely. Eight sharp.” He faltered, his hand hovering over the doorknob. Turning abruptly, he said, “Look. I’d like to apologize for my absurd conduct this afternoon.” He was blushing to the roots of his hair.

Cassie stared at him through a fog of exhaustion. “What are you talking about?”

He opened his mouth several times but no sound emerged.

The irony of Griffin being at a loss for words struck Cassie as funny until she realized the reason for his embarrassment. “Oh, that,” she said in a small voice.

The Scrivener’s eyes darted toward the floor. “I’m afraid I behaved quite stupidly.”

“No, you didn’t,” she protested gently. “You behaved like somebody who was worried about his friend.”

He searched her eyes. “You really think so?”

She reached up to touch his cheek. “News flash. The world is full of selfish, stupid people who go through life trampling anybody who gets in their way. As of this afternoon, I literally know what being ground into the dirt feels like. So when somebody acts like they care if I live or die, I don’t find their concern stupid at all. I’m grateful.”

For a brief instant, Griffin’s eyes gleamed with something Cassie couldn’t quite define. It was gone before she could decide what it meant.

He smiled with relief. “I’m glad.” An awkward silence threatened to engulf them both until he rushed to add, “I really should let you get some rest.”

As he turned to let himself out, she patted his shoulder. “I care about you too, you know. Don’t ever forget that.”

He paused, without turning. “You’ll never know how much—” He broke off. “Well, good night.” He slipped out the door and was gone.

Daniel felt his peaceful dream dissolve when someone rudely jostled his elbow.

“Daniel!” A voice whispered close to his ear.

“Just a few more minutes,” he grumbled.

“Wake up!” The voice was insistent.

The Scion yawned and opened his eyes. Chris’s chiseled features came into focus. Daniel allowed himself a few seconds to furtively admire the view before raising his head. He wondered if his friend realized how handsome he was. Daniel frequently found himself so distracted by the librarian’s good looks that he could barely form a sentence. He’d recently read an article about something called the golden ratio—an exact mathematical proportion among facial features which the eye perceived as beauty. Chris’s face surely possessed that divine symmetry.

Daniel’s musings came to an abrupt end when his arm slipped off a pile of books, causing them to tumble to the floor. It was then he made the embarrassing discovery that he’d nodded off while slumped over a stack of reference works in the Ancient History section of the Chicago Public Library.

“You did it again.” The librarian’s tone was mildly reproachful. He bent down to retrieve the fallen volumes.

Daniel sat up and massaged the back of his neck to relieve the stiffness. Still disoriented, he asked, “Is it lunch time already?”

Chris chuckled mirthlessly. “Hardly. It’s only ten-thirty in the morning. Get up.”

The Scion obediently rose, closing the volume on Minoan Crete which he’d been reading, and followed the librarian to the elevator. “Where are we going?”

“Out for a walk.” Chris punched the button for the lobby when the doors opened.

Daniel stepped into the elevator car after him. “But aren’t you on duty? Won’t your supervisor notice if you aren’t staffing the Reference Desk?”

“So full of questions today, aren’t we?” Chris shook his head in mock disapproval. “One of the new staffers agreed to cover for me. I did her a favor last week when she ducked out for a long lunch with her boyfriend.”

Still having difficulty processing the reason for their walk, Daniel balked. “But I don’t need any exercise.”

The librarian snorted derisively as they exited the elevator and moved toward the revolving doors. “No, what you need is an intervention.”

Once outside, Chris immediately headed east on Columbus Drive.

Daniel trailed him silently. As the stiff lake breeze hit him full in the face, the last of his sleepiness vanished. Turning up his jacket collar, he asked, “Intervention? What are you talking about?”

Chris paused at the next corner when the light turned red. “I’m talking about the fact that all you do these days is browse books and nap—mainly nap. What about your relic hunt? You’ve been back for almost five months without solving the next riddle. In fact, you haven’t even told me what the next riddle is.”

Daniel avoided his friend’s eyes. “I’m having some difficulty getting motivated.”

They crossed when the light turned green.

Chris’s tone became gentler. “Look, I get it. I understand that your wife’s death was a huge shock. It was bound to send you into a tailspin but you have to pull out of it, buddy. You’re missing the big picture here.”

“What big picture?”

They ran across Michigan Avenue as the light turned yellow and entered Grant Park on the lakefront. It was too early in the season for Buckingham Fountain to be sending up jets of spray for the benefit of tourist photographers. In fact, there were no tourists at all. The two men had the plaza in front of the fountain all to themselves.

Chris didn’t even pause. He veered south. “Let’s keep walking.”

“What big picture?” Daniel persisted.

The librarian gave an exasperated sigh. “Danny Boy, there’s a lot more at stake here than finding another jewel-encrusted tchotchke for your dad’s mantelpiece.”

The comment brought Daniel up short. He’d never considered any other reason. “What do you mean?”

“Think about what might happen if you keep dragging your feet on this artifact quest.”

The Scion shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Chris tried a new approach. “I met your father once. He didn’t strike me as a patient man.”

“He likes to see results,” Daniel agreed.

“So when you don’t produce those results fast enough, what’s he likely to do?”

The Scion stared blankly at Chris, still at a loss.

“Don’t you get it? He’ll replace you with somebody who can give him what he wants.” Chris cast him a sidelong glance. “Since I know the backstory on all the major players in your world, I’m guessing your psycho bodyguard, Leroy Hunt, would be next in line for the job.”

Daniel stopped dead in his tracks. “My father would never do that! Hunt is incapable of rational thought.”

“So he’d have to send somebody with brains along.” Chris smiled sardonically. “Maybe somebody like your shifty brother Joshua?”

The very sound of the name sent a chill down Daniel’s spine. “No!”

“No?” Chris ambled forward. “Then who else? Your father trusts him, doesn’t he?”

“But he’s never trusted him with this secret. He... he... wouldn’t!”

By this time, the pair had walked all the way to the Beaux Arts Garden at Eighth Street.

Chris abruptly took a seat on the low stone wall beside the dry fountain.

Daniel, half in shock, sank down next to him.

Chris studied the Scion through narrowed eyes. “I see by your chalky complexion that I’m finally getting through but make no mistake. This isn’t about sibling rivalry. Letting Joshua get the better of you isn’t your biggest problem.”

“It’s a huge problem.” Daniel’s voice rose in pitch. “He’s a terrible person. There’s no telling what he would do if he gained our father’s trust. He could hurt so many people.”

The librarian nodded solemnly. “I agree. A guy like that could do a lot of damage. Even more than you realize.” He paused to let the words sink in.

The Scion frowned. “I don’t understand. As terrible as that would be, Joshua could only harm members of our congregation. He has no control over anything else.”

“Not even if he was put in charge of the artifact retrieval?” Chris’s tone held a note of calculated innocence. What do you think he’d do if he crossed paths with those three thieves you’ve told me so much about?”

The Scion’s eyes flew open in wild alarm. “He’d kill them. Even if he didn’t murder them himself, he wouldn’t hesitate to give the order.”

“If you keep pulling a Rip Van Winkle, those three deaths will all be on you,” the librarian concluded ominously.

Daniel slumped forward and sank his head into his hands. “Oh my God! It would be a disaster. For everyone.”

Chris gave a thin smile of satisfaction. “So the big picture comes into focus at last.” He reached over and rubbed Daniel’s shoulder. “Of course, none of that needs to happen if you’d get off your ass and do something about it.”

The Scion sat up abruptly. He turned sideways to face Chris. “You’re absolutely right. I have to begin right now!”

“That’s more like it.” The librarian nodded approvingly. “I’ll go so far as to spout a cliché and say ‘no time like the present’. I don’t suppose you remember the riddle off the top of your head...”

Daniel paused to consider. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do recall the words. Funny how often I’ve turned that puzzle over in my mind. Here it is: ‘The kindred stir upon the high sharp peak where the river flows red to the serpent’s heart. Under the lawgiver’s glare, its coils tremble in the mirror at the lion’s feet.’”

Chris wrinkled his forehead. “Wow, that’s a heaping bowl of alphabet soup.”

“I did manage to figure out a few things,” Daniel reassured him. “I know the first line refers to the doves from the previous riddle and I’m fairly certain the location in question is the eastern Himalayas. That region is the source of Asia’s major rivers.”

The librarian appeared lost in thought.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Eastern Himalayas,” Chris murmured. “Rivers with headwaters in the eastern Himalayas.” He treated Daniel to one of his dazzling smiles. “I think I’ve got a shortcut to solving the first line.”

“So quickly?”

The librarian shrugged. “If you’d bothered to share that riddle with me earlier, we could have cracked the whole clue by now.”

“Sorry.” Daniel ducked his head.

Chris ruffled his hair. “Cheer up, Danny Boy. That artifact’s as good as found. It just so happens that the Reference Department received an interesting gift about a month ago. Around 1900, there was an explorer who came from a rich family on the North Shore. A hundred years ago, if you had a lot of money and a lot of time to kill, I guess you became an explorer. Anyway, he spent decades traveling through the Himalayas and kept detailed accounts of the places he visited. His family recently donated his journals to the library. They haven’t been catalogued yet but I can slip a few volumes out of storage when nobody is looking. Between the two of us, we ought to be able to find that river you’re looking for.”

Daniel stood up. “How wonderful. When can we start?”

Chris stood as well. “This afternoon.”

“Why not now?” the Scion insisted eagerly.

The librarian looked pointedly at his watch and then at Daniel. “Because now it really is lunch time.”