The Dragon's Wing Enigma (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 3) Read online

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  THE DRAGON’S WING ENIGMA

  by

  N. S. Wikarski

  The Dragon’s Wing Enigma

  Book Three Of Seven – The Arkana Mystery Series

  http://www.mythofhistory.com

  Copyright © 2012 by N. S. Wikarski

  Second Edition 2013

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1 – Look Out

  Chapter 2 – Hard Labor Day

  Chapter 3 – The Wait Staff

  Chapter 4 – Leavers’ Tryst

  Chapter 5 – Defensive Play

  Chapter 6 – Wifely Demotion

  Chapter 7 – All Up In The Air

  Chapter 8 – Freedom Rider

  Chapter 9 – Fugitive Thoughts

  Chapter 10 – Shopping For Information

  Chapter 11 – Head ‘Em Up, Move ‘Em Out

  Chapter 12 – Friend Or Faux?

  Chapter 13 – Rumors And Board

  Chapter 14 – A Change In The Wind

  Chapter 15 – The Dating Game

  Chapter 16 –Bad News Travels Last

  Chapter 17 – Fishing With Dynamite

  Chapter 18 – Deep Cover Girl

  Chapter 19 – Man Trampled By Nightmare

  Chapter 20 – Feast Of The Epiphany

  Chapter 21 – Tactical Oversight

  Chapter 22 – The Maltese Owl

  Chapter 23 – Touch And Go

  Chapter 24 – Motor Mouth

  Chapter 25 – In Plane Sight

  Chapter 26 – Bask In The Culture

  Chapter 27 – Boozin’ Buddies

  Chapter 28 – Hex Marks The Spot

  Chapter 29 – Doubtful Beliefs

  Chapter 30 – Witch Way?

  Chapter 31 – Aye, Spy

  Chapter 32 – Bee Line

  Chapter 33 – Son Rise

  Chapter 34 – Hic Sunt Dracones!

  Chapter 35 – Sleeper

  Chapter 36 – The X Factor

  Chapter 37 – What’s In A Name?

  Chapter 38 – Tipped Off

  Chapter 39 – Lost And Found

  Chapter 40 – Double Vision

  Chapter 41 – A Gifted Friend

  Chapter 42 – Grudging Assistants

  Chapter 43 – Summit Meeting

  Chapter 44 – Hard Time

  Chapter 45 – A Visit From The Reaper

  Chapter 46 – Asylum

  Chapter 47 – Locked Down

  Chapter 48 – Driving Progress

  Chapter 49 – Spirited And Lively

  Chapter 50 – Flight Plan

  Names You Should Know

  Author Bio

  Books By N. S. Wikarski

  Useful Info

  FOR READERS NEW TO THE SERIES

  A list of Names You Should Know is appended to the end of this book.

  Chapter 1 – Look Out

  A Long Time Ago In A Land Far Away

  They sat at the entrance to the cave watching the light fade over the peaks. There were two of them—a man and a boy. They didn’t speak but merely watched the sky and the valley floor below them falling into shadow. They could see smoke rising from the hills beyond. They didn't know how many had perished but more deaths were sure to follow. Torches dotted the green pastures beneath their perch—evenly spaced—all climbing a single trail up the mountain. Fire in the sky and fire below. The torches grew ever brighter as the sky grew ever darker. Soon the lights would reach even this most secret of hiding places. The men who carried them lived for no other purpose—to ferret out what was hidden in order to destroy it.

  The man sighed heavily and considered his options. The thought of leaving this refuge was painful, breaking a chain whose links had remained strong through more years than he could count. He had delayed until the last possible moment, hoping beyond all reason that the torch bearers might forget this place. The flames winding ever upward told him clearly that they had not forgotten. The world belonged to them now and they were implacable in their determination to purge it of all contradiction.

  There was no help for it. He stood decisively and tied up his small sack of belongings.

  The boy regarded him gravely. He was no more than eight. “Are you going now?” he asked.

  The man nodded.

  The boy leaped to his feet. He plucked at the man’s sleeve. “Take me with you. Please!”

  “You know I can’t,” came the sad reply. “And you know why.”

  The boy looked at the ground, unwilling to meet the man’s eyes.

  “Someone has to stay behind and say what happened.” The man crouched down and tilted the boy’s chin up. “Do you remember the words I told you?”

  The boy nodded silently, a tear sliding down his cheek.

  “The ghosts of all those who came before me are depending on you. You must not fail them nor me.” He wiped the tear from the boy’s cheek and tousled his hair.

  The man straightened up and slung the bundle over his shoulder. He took a final wistful look at his sanctuary and at the boy he was leaving behind. Before the last rays of the sun failed completely, he slipped out of the cave and into the gathering night.

  Chapter 2 – Hard Labor Day

  Cassie pulled her car up beside the other vehicles already parked in the driveway of Faye's suburban farmhouse. She felt rested and ready for anything. The luxury of several weeks away from the Arkana and the relic hunt had given her a fresh perspective. After all, a girl could only endure so many threats on her life before needing to take a break for a pedicure. As she let herself in the front door, she could hear laughter and conversation coming from the back of the house.

  “Hello?” she called tentatively. “Anybody home?”

  “Everybody's already here,” an assertive female voice bounced down the hall.

  Without needing to identify the source, Cassie responded, “Hi, Maddie.”

  The girl entered the kitchen where her teammates were lounging while their fearless leader Faye handed around serving dishes.

  The tiny grey-haired woman smiled warmly at her latest guest. “Hello, my dear. We're just about to set up a feast in the garden. Would you mind carrying?” She held a bowl of potato salad out to Cassie. Turning in the other direction, she gave a platter of fried chicken to the lanky young man hovering at her shoulder. “Griffin dear, take this please.”

  “Right you are,” he replied with alacrity.

  “Late as usual, toots!” Came a voice from a corner of the room.

  Without batting an eye, Cassie replied, “I've got an image to uphold, dude. It's called being fashionably late.”

  Erik grinned. “Sounds about the same as being annoyingly tardy to me.”

  Maddie unceremoniously shoved a tray with a pitcher and glasses into his arms.

  “Here, make yourself useful,” she ordered.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Erik's voice held only the slightest hint of sarcasm.

  The group filed out into Faye's immense backyard with its ancient trees and assorted flower and vegetable plots. It was a postcard-perfect autumn afternoon: the sun sh
ining in a cloudless blue sky, a slight breeze stirring gold-tinged leaves. The little band clustered around a long table set up under a canopy.

  “You really went all out,” Cassie commented, stealing a radish from a bowl Maddie had just set down.

  “Well, I thought something special was in order to welcome our intrepid crew back to work,” Faye replied.

  “Welcome them back from what?” the Operations Director snorted. “Partying too hard? I've been busting my hump for the past six weeks while they've been cavorting.”

  “You did say we'd earned a couple of days off, chief,” Erik reminded her.

  Maddie flounced into a chair and lit a cigarette, apparently winded by the effort of fetching and carrying. “A few days?” she repeated pointedly. “Six weeks is your definition of a few days?”

  “So maybe it was more than a few,” Erik relented, “but I needed some serious downtime. I mean I risked my life on that last recovery.”

  Maddie blew a smoke ring, unimpressed. “Uh huh.”

  “So where did you go?” Cassie asked, eyeing her newly-tanned team mate curiously.

  “Beaches.” He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head, savoring the memory. “Lots and lots of beaches.”

  The girl rolled her eyes, imagining how much female company he'd collected on those beaches. Transferring her attention to her other team mate, she asked, “What about you, Griffin? Please tell me you got out of the Vault for at least a couple of days.”

  The Brit smiled self-consciously. “A few, yes. I went to visit my parents in London.”

  Erik turned his head to size up his colleague. “Sure doesn't look like you got any sun while you were there.”

  Cassie noted that while both she and Erik had managed to achieve a healthy glow, Griffin was as pale as ever.

  “It rained,” he said simply. He seemed eager to shift the conversation away from himself. “What about you, Cassie?”

  “Pedicure.” She wiggled her sandal-clad toes.

  Erik sat up in his chair and stared at her. “Really, that's it?”

  “No, that's not all of it.” Cassie cleared her throat uncomfortably. “I finally got a chance to sort through the rest of Sybil's stuff. Given how long we've been away hunting down artifacts, it was the first real chance I had since...”

  She trailed off. No one wanted to finish the sentence “...since Sybil was killed.”

  “Sorry, toots,” Erik said in a low voice. “I didn't mean to—”

  “It's OK.” She cut him short. “I'm getting used to the idea.” Brightening a bit, she added, “The apartment is starting to feel like my home now. That's new. I never had a place that belonged to me before.”

  “Don't get too cozy,” Maddie cautioned. “You're gonna hit the road again pretty soon.”

  At that moment, Faye shuffled over bearing a plate of homemade biscuits. She set them down and took the chair at the head of the table. “Maddie, let them enjoy one more day to relax,” she remonstrated gently.

  “I'd say they've had plenty of rest,” the Operations Director grumped one last time before grinding out her cigarette and reaching for a drumstick.

  Following her lead, the others dove into the feast laid out before them.

  Faye smiled benevolently on them all as she passed around platters of fried chicken, corn on the cob, and cole slaw.

  Griffin handed the Memory Guardian a tumbler of iced tea. “It's rather an interesting coincidence that we're launching our endeavor on your American holiday of Labor Day.”

  “Labor Day,” Cassie echoed. “That’s always meant it was time for me to go back to school.”

  “Yeah,” Erik added. “Except that now you’re enrolled in the school of hard knocks.”

  “Our Nephilim foes certainly haven't made it easy for us,” Griffin concurred. Turning to Maddie, he asked, “Have you heard any news about our adversaries while we've been away?”

  The Operations Director stopped gnawing on an ear of corn to consider. “It’s been tough getting any kind of information from inside the compound lately. Monitoring Leroy Hunt’s calls was our best source for crazy cult news but it seems like they put him on furlough ever since that last relic was brought back.”

  “There's no need for haste,” Griffin reminded her. “The clues indicate we won't be able to find the location of the next artifact for another six months.”

  “But the Nephilim probably don't know that,” Erik corrected. “No matter how good their resident expert Daniel is, I'd be really surprised if he cracked that line of code before you do. If anything, he’s going to ignore it and they’ll be on the road before we are.”

  “It might be a good idea to get our act together soon,” Cassie agreed. “I mean if we wait too long, they could stumble across the right spot ahead of us. Then what? They think we're all dead.”

  “Let's recap what we know thus far,” Faye suggested helpfully. “Could one of you remind me of the riddle that's to lead to our next artifact?”

  In unison, the trio of relic hunters recited: “Let Eurus fill the sails twelve days, then follow Eberos where it climbs to the sky. Set your course three bees from the dragon’s wing to the sea. When the bull turns the season, mark where the goat grazes the spinner’s peak. There lies the second of five you seek.”

  Startled by their ready response, Faye said, “Oh my.”

  “Been thinking about that riddle much?” Maddie asked archly.

  “Not just thinking about it, dreaming about it,” Cassie said ruefully.

  “We all have, toots,” Erik concurred. “It’s been nagging at us because we still don’t know what the hell any of it means.” He turned to the Brit. “Griffin?”

  “Sorry to disappoint but nothing occurs to me as yet. All we know with any certainty is that the bull is a reference to the vernal equinox, hence my observation that we won’t be able to find the relic until the beginning of spring. I also believe I made a slight error in translating the phrase ‘three bees’. It should be ‘four bees’ actually. As for the rest of it, I’ll have to immerse myself in research for a while.”

  “Great. Until Griffin has one of his usual brainstorms, that means we’re left twiddling our thumbs,” said Erik.

  “Your thumbs will be busy sorting through the stack of paperwork that’s been piling up on your desk,” Maddie told him.

  “Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

  “I have another idea for a way to keep Erik busy while our Chief Scrivener is hitting the books,” Cassie offered.

  Erik turned to regard her suspiciously. “You do, do you?”

  “Yup,” the girl answered. “You need to train me.”

  “In what?” he demanded.

  “Self-defense.”

  The Security Coordinator laughed. “Considering how you slammed that Turkish thief on our last junket, I’d say you know plenty about how to defend yourself.”

  “No, I mean real self-defense,” Cassie insisted. “Like what’s the quickest way to knock somebody out cold. Where’s the best place to shoot somebody to do maximum damage without killing them.”

  Erik stared open-mouthed at the girl.

  The others laughed at his shocked reaction.

  “Our Pythia has a point,” Maddie agreed. “Cassie should be able to defend herself in case of trouble.”

  “You never made me train Sybil when she was the Pythia,” Erik objected.

  “That’s because nobody was trying to kill Sibyl every time she went on a field mission,” Maddie countered. “Being Pythia was always a risky occupation but mortal danger wasn’t part of the job description until Cassie came along.”

  “Lucky, lucky me,” the girl murmured.

  “I still don’t—”

  Maddie cut him off. “Being in mortal danger is now part of her job description. You know what’s in your job description? As Security Coordinator for the Pythia you’re supposed to keep her safe. That includes teaching her how to keep herself safe, too.”

&nbs
p; Erik held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “OK, I give.”

  While the others were debating, Faye had slipped from the table and gone into the house. She now returned bearing an apple pie in her hands.

  “Dessert, anyone?” she asked sweetly.

  The nefarious schemes of the Blessed Nephilim and the unsolved riddle of the Bones Of The Mother flew out of everyone’s heads at the mention of pie.

  Chapter 3 – The Wait Staff

  Dr. Rafi Aboud, impeccably dressed in a twelve hundred dollar suit, stood in the middle of what had once been a cornfield. Beside him lay a large mound of dirt, an idle backhoe and a gaping hole in the ground. He regarded his surroundings with deep exasperation. Glancing at his Rolex, the exasperation turned to impatience. He was waiting to meet his benefactor and had been waiting for twenty minutes in this desolate spot. He was on the point of storming off to confront the man at his compound when the doctor saw a dust cloud rising on the dirt road that bordered the field.

  A vehicle emerged from the dust—a late model limousine that pulled over to the shoulder of the road and parked. The driver scurried out to assist his passenger—an old man dressed all in black with a mane of silver hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His name was Abraham Metcalf. Aboud recalled that the old man’s followers referred to him as “The Diviner.” In addition to being the head of a strange cult called the Blessed Nephilim, the old man was also a prophet of sorts. It was said that he spoke directly to God—like Mohammed had done.

  Aboud allowed himself a brief smile at the fanciful notion. God, if he existed at all, spoke only through science. That was the sort of religion which Aboud could respect. Facts could be proved or disproved. Nothing was left to chance or the sloppy sentimentality of belief.

  The Diviner picked his way carefully through the furrows and ruts left by the backhoe. It was surprising that for a man in his seventies his gait still resembled a military march.

  Aboud made no move to greet his visitor.