Secrets Of The Serpent's Heart (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 6) (23 page)

Hannah’s feet dangled over the side of her bed. She swung them idly back and forth to mark the time. There was really nothing else to do. Her captors might at least have given her a book to read. The random wish struck her as oddly funny. The concept of reading for entertainment was completely foreign to the Nephilim. She’d never realized that before she left. The only books to be found at the compound were scripture or commentaries on scripture. Instruction manuals for how to get to heaven weren’t supposed to be amusing. She smiled gloomily to herself. Everybody here was trying so hard to please an invisible, ill-tempered god that they feared to take pleasure in anything else.

The girl cast a glance around her chintz-upholstered prison. These had been her quarters a lifetime ago but everything looked so much smaller now. As the wife of the Diviner, she was entitled to a room with a private bath and a small sitting area. These luxuries were a sign of Father Abraham’s favor. She eyed the barred window skeptically. Was that a sign of his favor too? But then all the windows were barred. She wondered how many members of the congregation might choose to walk away if their path wasn’t blocked by iron bars, fences and men with guns.

She smoothed the fabric of her plain gray smock. It felt scratchy. The white starched apron covering it was no better. After the chloroform had worn off, she’d awakened to find herself dressed in the stiff garb of a Consecrated Bride. She didn’t know who had switched her clothing but that someone had also given her a bath. Her skin had been scrubbed so hard that there were raw patches on her arms and legs. Did they think they could erase the influence of the outer world as easily as that? She touched her hair which had been cut to chin length. At least the Nephilim couldn’t alter that aspect of her appearance. She still looked like one of the Fallen. The thought gave her a perverse sense of triumph.

After her initial escape, she had ceased to think of the outer world as Fallen at all. It had become the real world to her. The beliefs of the Nephilim, once the bedrock of her existence, now seemed like the fevered dreams of a lunatic. Hannah concluded that the cult’s founder, Jedediah Proctor, must have been mentally disturbed. She’d learned about other religions at school. While some of them practiced odd rituals, none of them felt compelled to protect their faith at gunpoint the way the Nephilim did. Perhaps it was because Nephilim ideals were so contrary to human nature that they couldn’t survive in the real world. They would evaporate in the light of common sense like all nightmares must. That was why it took a ten foot fence guarded by soldiers to separate the believers from the sane people outside.

She anxiously twisted the fabric of her apron, wondering what had become of Granny Faye the night of her abduction. Hannah hadn’t dared to ask in case the Diviner might want to destroy anyone she cared about. He had once slaughtered all the children’s pets because the animals inspired a love not directed at God. What might he do to Granny Faye, or Cassie, or Zach if he knew the affection Hannah felt for them?

The girl hadn’t spoken since she’d been brought back. It wasn’t because she was sulking. It was because she needed the silence to figure out how to respond if they questioned her. She had been living under the roof of a woman who was secretly engaged in the artifact quest and was committed to thwarting the Diviner’s plans. Even though Hannah didn’t know much, it would be better to pretend she knew nothing.

The girl jumped slightly at the sound of a knock on her door. What was the point of knocking, she wondered bitterly. A polite attempt not to intrude on her privacy? She’d been dragged from her place of refuge and carried off in the middle of the night. How much greater a violation of privacy could there be than that? Another knock came and then the doorknob turned. Since the door was locked from the outside, she knew her prospective visitor already had the key.

“Hannah, my dear?” The Diviner entered.

She cringed inwardly as his eyes devoured her. Obviously his lust hadn’t diminished during the time she was gone. However, his appearance had altered dramatically. His skin was now shriveled, giving his face the appearance of a mummified skull. His entire physique had shrunken to the point that his body appeared to be nothing more than a huddled bundle of bones beneath his black suit.

Hannah flashed back to the nights she’d been forced to spend in his bed. It now seemed like being trapped in the embrace of a rotting corpse.

“How are we feeling today?” His speech sounded slurred. He gave a fleeting smile and advanced tentatively into the room.

The girl regarded him with a blank expression.

He sat down on the bed beside her though, thankfully, not too near. “I know, my little one. You have suffered a great shock. It will take time.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft. “It will take time to restore you to us.”

Apparently, he was attributing her unresponsiveness to the trauma of the kidnapping. She turned her face away. The sight of him was too unnerving.

He took no offense. “My son has shown me pictures of the place you were being held. There was an old woman and a boy.”

She felt her heart skip a beat. He already knew about Granny Faye and Zach? Fighting an urge to ask about their welfare, she commanded herself to keep still.

He continued. “The Fallen can be very beguiling when they want to corrupt a pure soul. They can seem friendly and kind in order to persuade one of the blessed to succumb to their godless ways. You are a mere child.” He reached out to stroke her hair then caught himself.

She stifled a grimace of disgust.

“It’s alright. I understand. You are an innocent in all this. You couldn’t have known. Someday you will tell me who they are but not now. This is not the time.” He stopped speaking abruptly as if he had lost his train of thought. Then he nodded, seemingly listening to a voice only he could hear. “Yes, yes. I will tell her.”

The old man rose heavily to his feet. He fixed his attention on the opposite wall. “I have had such visions, Hannah. The angel of the Lord has shown me wonders. A bright future lies in store for us both. As I foresaw long ago, you shall rise to the rank of my principal wife. The angel has prophesied you will bear me a dozen sons. More sons than any of my other wives have borne—even Mother Rachel. Male issue is a sure sign of God’s favor. You shall occupy a place of honor beside my throne when we ascend to my celestial kingdom together.” He clasped his hands, swept away by his rapturous vison. “Oh how beautiful our life will be!”

As Hannah listened to his ramblings, she recalled that the Diviner used to frighten her. Before her escape, she had been intimidated because he spoke to God. Everyone said he was the voice of God on earth. Now, he frightened her for an entirely different reason. She realized he was a madman.

Once more he halted unexpectedly in his monologue and turned around to peer at Hannah through bleary eyes. Transferring his attention from his dazzling revelation to the girl who was his captive audience, he said, “But I speak of things that are yet to come. In the present moment, you must think only of regaining your strength. Once you have rested for a time, you will remember who you are. Then we shall be reunited to live again as man and wife.”
 
He lapsed into a vague silence and drifted toward the door without bidding her goodbye.

The minute he was gone, Hannah sprang up and followed him. She twisted the doorknob on the off chance that, in his addled state, he had forgotten to lock her in. Unfortunately, he hadn’t. What was she going to do? The Diviner’s grand plan hinged on her becoming his sweet little wife again—innocent, timid, compliant.
 
She was none of those things now. The real world had given her a dangerous taste of freedom. She meant to choose her own path in life no matter what Father Abraham wanted her future to be. She needed to escape. If only she could get word to Daniel. He had helped her once. He might be willing to try again.

The sound of the door opening once more made her jump. Whoever wanted access to her now wasn’t even pretending to be polite. She backed away toward the window. Her latest visitor was one of Daniel’s brothers. The one called Joshua. She hardly knew him at all but there were rumors that he had an uncanny knack for ferreting out secrets. Hannah found him unnerving and not simply because of his formidable reputation. It was his eyes. They were cold and dead as a shark’s. In the real world, it was said that the eyes were the windows to the soul. She sensed that this man didn’t have one.

“Hello, Sister Hannah,” he began. “I trust you’re feeling better these days.”

A bizarre thought flashed through Hannah’s brain. This man was her step-son by marriage. What should she call him? Brother Joshua? Son? She chose not to call him anything at all.

“I see you aren’t in the mood to speak. Perhaps, over time, I can do something to loosen your tongue.” The observation wasn’t menacing. It was a mere statement of fact. He didn’t wait for her to resume her seat. Instead he drew up a chair and sat down.

She pointedly turned away from him and stared out the window. Hannah had formed the disturbing impression that he might be able to read her thoughts or, at the very least, her facial expressions. Best not to give him that advantage.

He directed his comments to her back. “I’m sure you’re aware that my father dotes on you. I showed him some provocative pictures of you in your new life among the Fallen. Dressing indecently. Painting your face. Courting the lustful attentions of men. Kissing that Fallen boy.”

Hannah let out an audible gasp but kept her posture rigid.

“Incredibly enough, the Diviner cannot see your corrupt nature. But I can.” He paused for emphasis. “You are a true daughter of Eve—the serpent’s first ally.
 
A scheming adulteress who forgot your marriage vows the minute you doffed the attire of a Consecrated Bride. If your punishment were left up to me, you would suffer the same fate meted out in the Bible to women of your sort. You would be stoned to death.” He sighed regretfully. “Sadly, your destiny remains in the hands of my father and he continues to see you as a lost innocent. But you and I know better.”

Hannah was trembling. She folded her arms across her chest in an effort to control her shaking limbs. It was critical that he not see the destructive effect his words were having. Mustering all her self-command, she turned to face him aloofly.

Joshua returned her stare impassively. He stood up. “Sooner or later you will tell me how you escaped from here. You will tell me who you consorted with in the Fallen World and why. You will tell me everything I want to know so that I can make my father see the truth about you.” He gave a fleeting smile of triumph. “Like everything else, time is on my side. We’ll chat again soon. Next time, you’ll do all the talking.” He turned and let himself out.

Daniel dashed through the library lobby and ran up the escalator to the Reference Department.

Chris smiled a greeting when he saw the Scion arrive breathlessly at his desk. “Danny Boy! How was your trip? Successful, I hope.”

The Scion cast an anxious glance around the empty reading room. “I need to speak to you privately. Can you get away for a few minutes?”

The look on Daniel’s face must have convinced the librarian of the urgency of the matter. He briefly poked his head through the swinging doors leading to the staff area, presumably asking to take a break. When he re-emerged, he said, “Let’s go upstairs.”

They took the elevator to the Rare Book Exhibit.

Daniel found himself breathing easier the minute Chris was beside him. He relaxed further still when they entered his favorite room in the building. He immediately walked to the back wall to study the glass-encased illuminated manuscripts. He thought about the monks who had toiled for years on end to create such works of visual and spiritual beauty. He would give anything to be one of them right now, immersed in scholarship and meditation, a world away from his own troubled life.

Chris walked up beside him. “I know you didn’t want to come up here just to look at the pretty picture books.”

They both retreated to the circular bench in the center of the room and sat down facing one another.

“I’m dying of curiosity. How did your retrieval go?” the librarian urged.

“All things considered, it went well,” Daniel replied distractedly.

“All things considered?”

“The thieves I’ve told you about very nearly made off with the artifact but we stopped them.”

Chris leaned forward. “How? Tell me everything.”

“Mr. Hunt caught one of them and held her at gunpoint. The second thief offered to let us have the artifact if we would spare his partner’s life.”

Chris knit his eyebrows. “I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t the second thief just take off with the relic?”

“Because they care about each other, of course.”

“But they’re thieves.”

The Scion failed to grasp the objection.

“If these thieves are such badass relic hunters, why would they look out for each other?”

“Because they’re good people,” Daniel concluded simply.

This bit of news brought Chris up short. “Huh?”

Daniel waved his hand dismissively. “That isn’t why I needed to talk to you today. I have a much bigger problem. Hannah has been recaptured.”

“Get out!” Chris exclaimed. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

“You’ve got an odd notion of ‘better’,” the Scion retorted bitterly.

“Sorry. Go on.”

“While Mr. Hunt and I were away in China, my brother Joshua raided the house where Hannah was staying and brought her back.”

“So where was she?” The librarian, caught up in the story, leaned even farther forward.

“She had taken shelter with the thieves.”

Chris shot out of his seat. “What?”

“She asked for refuge and they gave it. Mr. Hunt seems to think they planned to keep her as a hostage.”

“So she was locked up?”

“No, she stayed with them willingly. She went to school like any other teenager in the outer world.”

Chris rubbed his chin reflectively. He began to pace back and forth in front of the bench, frowning in deep concentration. Eventually, he turned to address his friend.
 
“I’m going to ask you a strange question but bear with me. You’ll see where I’m going with this in a minute.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “What would have happened if the tables were turned? What if those thieves had thrown themselves on your father’s mercy and asked for asylum? What would he have done?”

“He would have had them killed,” Daniel answered simply without reflection.

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” Chris walked toward the illuminated manuscripts and faced the wall, not speaking.

Daniel craned his neck. “You said you were going to explain?”

“I’m just having a hard time sorting out the bad guys from the good guys.” Chris continued to gaze at the manuscripts. “And I’m feeling colossally dense right now.”

“Why?” The Scion peered up at him.

The librarian reclaimed his place on the bench. “Danny Boy, I got so caught up in the thrill of helping you solve your real-life Raiders riddles that I forgot to ask the most important question of all.”

The Scion stared at Chris in mute bafflement.

“I forgot to ask whether it’s a good thing to give your father what he wants. Once they’re all assembled, what’s he going to use these artifacts for?”

Daniel shrugged helplessly. “He won’t tell me.”

“That, all by itself, is suspicious. A person who’s starting an art collection usually wants the world to know about it. A person who’s building a nuclear bomb usually doesn’t.”

“What nuclear bomb? You’re being absurd.”

“OK, maybe that’s a bad example but have you noticed anything strange going on with the brotherhood since your father first sent you chasing these relics?”

The Scion paused to consider the question. “There are rumors. Nothing that pertains to what I’m doing.”

The librarian crossed his legs, interlacing his fingers around one knee. “So tell me about the rumors.”

“It’s said that my father has ordered secret facilities to be built near the main compound and at all the satellites where hand-picked men are given weapons and combat training. And then there’s the lab.”

“The lab?” Chris’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Again, it’s nothing but hearsay,” Daniel demurred. “A secret lab was supposedly built several miles from the main compound. A foreign doctor works there on a project for my father. Some of the rumors have grown to ludicrous proportions—that this doctor is creating a lethal substance and that my father is sending malefactors to the lab to be used as test subjects. They’re never seen again.”

 
The librarian studied his friend in stunned silence. “Danny Boy, connecting the dots isn’t your strong suit, is it?”

“You think all these facts are related?”

“Like a polygamist who marries his first cousin,” Chris countered scornfully. “I can’t believe you don’t see it.”

The Scion’s gaze slid away. “You have to understand the way I was raised. Among the Nephilim, the greatest sin is disobedience. From the time we’re small, we’re taught to follow the commands of our parents without question. And that rule applies even more strictly when one’s father is the Diviner— God’s voice on earth.”

Chris didn’t seem swayed by Daniel’s explanation. “I thought you dropped all that nonsense when you dropped your black suit and tie.”

The Scion shook his head sadly. “Those beliefs run deep. Lately, I’ve been studying the subject of psychology and I’ve learned about a hidden part of the mind called the unconscious. Maybe that’s where my compulsion to do as I’m told is lurking. Even if I don’t rationally think that blind obedience is a virtue, the urge to please my heavenly father and my earthly father is still alive at the core of my being.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Maybe that impulse forced me to suppress glaring evidence that my own flesh-and-blood could be guilty of horrible crimes. And yet...” He trailed off as he contemplated a new idea. “Some part of me knew and resisted. I’ve been waging a war with myself ever since this dismal relic quest began.” He laughed sardonically. “The thief named Cassie told me so a year ago. She said I had to get off the fence and pick a side.”

“And this woman is your enemy?” Chris’s tone was incredulous. “She sounds more like a friend offering you a piece of good advice.”

Daniel gave him a stricken look. “What do you think my father’s goal is?”

Chris raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know how the artifact hunt factors into it but I think your father wants to start a war. Maybe he’s waiting to collect the last relic before he fires the first shot.”

“But the Nephilim are a peaceful sect. Our scriptures instruct us to bear up patiently under the corruption of the Fallen World until the Final Judgment is at hand.”

Chris smiled wryly. “As I’ve observed before, your father isn’t the patient sort. He probably got tired of waiting and decided to bump up the schedule on Judgment Day.”

“And you think he’ll launch some sort of attack once the Sage Stone is in his possession?”

The librarian nodded somberly.

Daniel leaped to his feet. “I can’t allow that! Innocent people would die. Not just the Nephilim. Thousands among the Fallen.” He could feel a wave of panic rising in his throat.

“Whoa, hold on there.” Chris’s tone was soothing. “You can’t quit cold turkey. Do you remember what we discussed that day we took our walk in Grant Park?”

The question curbed Daniel’s dark imaginings. He temporarily switched his focus from bloody visions of Armageddon to the peaceful stroll with his friend in the Beaux Arts Garden. “We were talking about the big picture,” he murmured, recalling the scene.

“Right.” The librarian stood and placed a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. In a gentle tone, he continued. “You remember I told you it would be worse if you didn’t continue the quest. That if it wasn’t you, your father would pick somebody more ruthless to take your place.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Daniel asked helplessly.

“You’ll play along. Pretend to cooperate. Maybe you can form an alliance with those thieves. You have to keep your father from getting the Sage Stone but not let him know he’s not going to get it.”

The prospect of such a scheme accelerated the Scion’s panic attack. “It’s too much! It’s all too much! First, Hannah comes back and I could be exposed as her accomplice any second. My brother watches me constantly, looking for a weakness, waiting for his chance to strike. And now this! Pretending to search for the Sage Stone and sabotaging my father’s plans while Leroy Hunt tracks my every move. I can’t do this alone.” He was nearly hysterical, throwing himself into Chris’s arms, he began to sob.

The librarian held him until the fear subsided. He stroked his hair. “It’s OK, don’t worry. Everything is going to be alright. You’re not alone.”

Daniel raised his eyes to meet Chris’s. “Really? You’ll help me?”

“Every step of the way. We’ll plan this together.”

The Scion smiled tremulously. “I’m so grateful to have a friend like you, Chris.”

The librarian’s eyes glowed softly. He held Daniel’s face between his hands. “Oh, Danny Boy. After all this time in my world, you’re still just a babe in the woods.” He leaned in gently and kissed Daniel on the lips.

For a few seconds, the Scion fell into that kiss and, for the first time in his life, basked in the sensation of being cherished. Then his eyes widened in shock. He pulled back abruptly. “What are you doing?”

Chris smiled sheepishly. “Taking a shot.”

Daniel shoved him away and ran toward the door. “I have to go. Right now!”

“Wait!” the librarian shouted after him.