The Goddess Legacy (27 page)

“I can chance a call from my U.S. cell. It’s got service.”

“You remember his number?”

“I wrote it down,” she said, and pulled her money and the claim ticket out of her phone case. A scrap of paper peeked from the pocket, and she withdrew it and dialed the number. When Spencer answered, she could barely hear him over the background noise.

“Spencer!”

“I tried to call you. Nothing.”

“That phone’s history. But listen – we found the idol, and I got a picture. It’s only partially complete, but–”

“That’s great. Your British friend showed up and tried to kill me at the temple.” Spencer told her about his encounter, and she looked at Drake with an alarmed expression as she listened.

“Are you okay?” she asked when he’d finished.

“Got a gash in my head and a bump, but I’ll make it.”

“Where are you?”

“On the road back to Delhi. I have Helms’s car, but I’m going to ditch it on the outskirts and take a cab. I can’t afford to get pulled over, for obvious reasons.”

“How long do you think it will take?”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Let’s rendezvous at the Delhi Junction Railway Station, okay? Just tell any driver – it’s up by Old Delhi.”

“When will you be there?”

“Probably a couple of hours.” She summarized their plight in a few terse sentences. “So just hang out till we arrive. I’ll call you once we’re outside.”

“Will do. Good luck.”

“Spencer?”

“Yeah.”

“How did the shots of the mosaic turn out?”

“Call me Ansel Adams.”

“Really?”

“Haven’t lied to you yet. See you when I see you.”

Delhi, India

Spencer and Drake waited while Allie collected her suitcase from a sleepy cloakroom clerk. She paid the nominal fee and wheeled the case to where they were leaning against a wall. The sky was dark, daybreak still an hour away. It had taken Allie and Drake longer than they’d expected to walk to the hotel, and the driver they’d hired had been the slowest in India, treating each curve as though mortal danger lurked beyond the bend. By the time they made it to Delhi, it was five a.m., and early travelers were beginning to arrive for their trains well ahead of the morning rush.

Allie appraised Spencer’s head with a sharp eye and shook her head. “He really clobbered you.”

“You should have seen the other guy.”

She winced. “I have a feeling I’m glad I didn’t. Between that and the beating at the hostel, you’ve really been worked over, haven’t you?”

Spencer shrugged. “That which doesn’t kill you…”

“So, what now?” Drake asked.

“It would be nice to snatch a few hours of rest,” Allie suggested. “Maybe we go to one of the crap hotels around here?”

“Not a terrible idea. What time do you think the grad student gets in?” Spencer asked.

“Probably around nine. We’ve got time.”

They set off on foot for the nearby hotels after Allie swapped the suitcase for her lighter duffel and slung it over her shoulder. Thirty minutes later, they’d rented two rooms and were fast asleep, Allie’s phone alarm set for three hours later to give them time to clean up and make it to the university.

The next morning, the side of Spencer’s face was turning purple at the temple, and he slouched in the booth at breakfast in a questionable restaurant across the street from the hotel, baseball cap pulled low over his brow, his eyes bleary, his face haggard.

“You look like crap, my friend. Go back to sleep. We’ll roust you when we get back from the university,” Drake advised.

“Thanks. I love you too,” Spencer said, chewing cautiously on a roll of unknown pedigree. “Although I do feel like someone worked me over with a board.”

“Seriously. There’s no point to staying awake until we know what the script says – assuming I can increase the brightness sufficiently without washing out the message,” Allie said, toying with her tablet, where she’d downloaded both Spencer’s mural photos and the image of the Kali icon a few minutes earlier.

“You can do anything. I have faith,” Drake said.

“More than I do. This is about as good as it’s going to get,” Allie announced, pushing to her feet. “Go back to the room, Spencer. We’ve got to hit the road.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Pay the bill,” Drake said to him. “Duty calls.”

The trip to the university was as grueling as expected, Delhi rush hour in full effect. They wound up walking the final quarter mile to the campus when their rickshaw stalled in traffic, an accident ahead blocking all lanes where an intrepid pickup truck had misjudged a light and been T-boned by a delivery van.

Divya was at her desk when Allie entered the office, the professor’s possessions boxed up in cardboard cartons all around the room. Divya was more composed this morning and offered a meek smile when she saw Allie.

“Hello. I hope the information about the mosaic was of some help,” Divya said.

“Thanks for nosing around about it.”

“No problem.”

“I did find a photo of the statue where the sword came from, and I was wondering if you could run the script through your engine and translate it for me?”

“You did? That’s a bit of luck, isn’t it? Of course – let me just finish what I’m doing,” Divya said, and closed several files on her screen before looking at Allie expectantly.

“Here you go. It’s a little hard to read, but maybe you can make it out,” Allie said, handing the Indian woman her tablet with the base of the image enlarged.

Divya typed in the characters, pausing as she neared the end, where they became blurrier as the base curved out of sight. She checked her work and then selected the decryption option, and after a pause, another screen opened. She read it with a frown and translated it, and then sat back with a shake of her head.

“It says, ‘Viewed through the eyes of the goddess of time, her lowest hand holds the holiest of holies, beneath which…’”

“Does that make any sense to you?” Allie asked.

“Let’s look at the prior script to put it into context,” Divya said, tapping a few commands. “Here it is: “Within the blessed cave of the six-headed fair one, the path of the devout can be seen by the righteous. In the temple devoted to the destroyer, the sacred mosaic shows the way. Viewed through the eyes of the goddess of time, her lowest hand holds the holiest of holies, beneath which…”

“The holiest of holies?” Allie asked.

“I don’t know what to tell you. It appears to be referring to the mosaic, but it’s not particularly clear. My hunch is the remainder of the script is required to make sense of it.” She sighed. “Is there any chance of locating a photo of the rear of the base?”

“No. It was like pulling teeth to get this.”

“Do you mind if I ask where you found it?”

“I’m afraid I can’t discuss it. The supplier asked me to keep it confidential.”

Divya’s face clouded and she looked away. “Well, then I’m afraid that’s all I can offer.”

“And it doesn’t mean anything to you? Nothing jumps out?”

Divya handed the tablet back to Allie, her face stony. “No. I’m afraid not.”

Allie had no choice but to take the hint. Divya obviously felt that she had been snubbed after providing so much assistance, and nothing Allie said would change it. She hoped that they wouldn’t need the Indian woman’s help again, because it was clear to Allie that none could be expected.

“Divya, thank you for everything. I’d gladly tell you about the image, but it’s part of a private collection, and I was sworn to secrecy…”

“I understand,” Divya said, in a tone that made it abundantly clear she didn’t.

Allie said her goodbyes and traversed the hall to the stairway, wary of any suspicious characters loitering about after the Helms incident, but saw nothing to cause alarm. Drake was waiting for her in the usual spot, and she filled him in as they retraced their steps to the main campus entrance.

“That’s less than good news,” Drake said when she was finished.

“I know. Maybe we can learn something from studying the mosaic further?”

“Sounds like our only option, doesn’t it?”

Allie’s expression turned pensive. “I would have been surprised if this had been easy, the way everything else has gone.”

Drake nodded. “Maybe our luck’s about to change.”

They exchanged a glance that said neither of them believed a word of it.

Back at the hotel, Drake unlocked the room and led Allie inside. Spencer was sprawled on the bed, the overhead fan’s listless orbit doing little but stirring the tepid air.

“Rise and shine, big guy,” Drake called out, and Spencer started awake and sat up. Allie eyed him and shook her head.

“Thank God you have makeup to cover the bruising. You look like you were hit by a car.”

“Nice to see you both, too,” Spencer growled as he wiped sleep from his eyes. “You crack the code?”

“Yes and no,” Drake said.

“What does that mean?” Spencer asked.

“It means we know what the script says, but it makes no sense.” Allie gave him a short rundown.

Spencer considered the message. “Viewed through the eyes of the goddess of time, her lowest hand holds the holiest of holies, beneath which…who the hell knows. That’s priceless. And about as useful as pockets in a coffin.”

Allie shrugged. “It’s describing the mosaic. We’ve already figured out that the first bit refers to Shiva’s cave in Kashmir.”

“The Shiv Khori,” Drake said.

“Right. And the second part clearly refers to the mosaic,” Allie continued.

“Which would all be impressive if the third part wasn’t incomplete nonsense,” Spencer said.

Drake shook his head. “Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Spencer grunted. “Somebody sees a future in an Indian prison, playing house with twenty of my new BFFs if we don’t figure this out, and fast.”

“Let’s think about this,” Allie suggested. “The first part of the Kali statue script says ‘viewed through the eyes of the goddess of time.’ We know it’s referring to the mosaic.”

“No, we
think
it is, because your student friend believes she got the translation right,” Spencer fired back. “We don’t know anything for sure.”

“There’s no reason to think that part is garbled, Spencer. Don’t be negative,” Drake said. “‘Through the eyes of the goddess of time.’ Maybe…maybe it’s saying that the image of Kali contains something in the area of her eyes?”

Allie powered on her tablet and brought up the mosaic image. She zoomed in on the eyes and took a seat by the small table. Drake joined her, and Spencer reluctantly threw the sheets off and eyed the tablet over their shoulders as he donned his shirt.

“I don’t see squat,” Spencer said.

“Neither do I,” Allie agreed.

Drake nodded. “It was just a theory.”

“Here’s another one that’s not so fun to consider,” Allie said. “What if, in the original temple, there was some kind of solar guide, where when the sun shined through an aperture at a certain time of day, it then traced to other elements in the design that acted as a map? I’ve read about that sort of thing, but never seen it in person.”

“Wasn’t that one of the Indiana Jones movies – the one with the snake pit?” Drake asked. “That always gave me the creeps as a kid.”

She gave him a dirty look. “Doesn’t mean it wasn’t used in real life.”

They sat in silence, considering the ramifications of Allie’s speculation. Drake cleared his throat. “Problem being that temple was destroyed. So if you’re right, we’re beyond screwed.”

“I’m just thinking out loud,” Allie said. “But absent anything obvious about the mosaic, we’re still back at square one. Or one and a half.”

“It has a lot of detail,” Drake said. “Maybe we’re missing something. Zoom out. Could be that the eyes are looking at something? See how the pupils look a little down and to the right?”

Allie manipulated the image until the entire mosaic was displayed. “Do you see anything?”

“Not really,” Drake admitted.

“Neither do I,” Spencer said. “I’m going to the bathroom. Maybe I’ll have a breakthrough of some sort.”

Spencer left them to their inspection. Allie let her eyes rove over every inch of the image, trying to discern a pattern to any of the elements. Drake ran his fingers through his hair and then felt his two days of growth – a reminder of the inexorable passage of time since they’d been issued the ultimatum by Reynolds.

“Maybe we should go to this Shiv Khori and see if we can spot anything? We seem to have exhausted our leads here,” he suggested.

“It’s unlikely we’re going to stumble across a clue in the cave. Half a million people go every year, remember? Don’t you think one of them would have seen something by now if it was obvious?”

Drake stared at the fan circling overhead, an idea fighting its way to the surface of his consciousness, and then snapped his fingers and stared at Allie with a slightly manic look. “What if it’s not talking about the mosaic at all?”

“Of course it is, Drake. ‘In the temple devoted to the destroyer, the sacred mosaic shows the way.’ What else could it be referring to?”

Spencer emerged from the bathroom and caught the last of Allie’s question. He looked to Drake, who grinned. “The idol. It’s Kali too, isn’t it? Think about the script, taken as a whole. What if there was a bit before the area you photographed that identified a switch from the mosaic to the idol? Then it would mean something completely different. It would mean that, viewed through the eyes of the idol, the mosaic shows the way.”

Realization spread across Allie’s face. “That’s not bad. Not bad at all, Ramsey,” she said softly.

“But the idol’s back at your swami’s place, under heavy guard,” Spencer reminded them. “You mentioned that they had guns – if you’re right, how do we get the statue and look at the mosaic through its eyes, assuming it’s possible to do, which seems unlikely since you said it was made out of gold…?”

“Bring up the picture of the statue, Allie,” Drake said, his voice quiet. She switched to the dark image of the dancing goddess and zoomed in on Kali’s head.

“See anything?” she asked.