Riddle Of The Diamond Dove (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 4) Page 4

  Hannah rushed to stand between Zach and the box. “Oh no, don’t do that.”

  “Maybe I should turn it over so you’ll know what’s inside,” Zach offered. He flipped the back side of the box so that it faced the front of the room. The label displayed a picture of the contents.

  “It’s... it’s...” Hannah stuttered. “A computer desk!”

  “Not just ‘a’ computer desk,” Zach corrected. “Your computer desk. See, there’s a compartment on one side for a printer and for a tower on the other side. Then in the middle, there’s a drawer that slides out to hold the keyboard. Plus there’s this cool shelf attachment that rests on the back of the desk so you can store books there too. You like?”

  The girl beamed at him. “Oh, I like it very much. Whose idea was this?” She looked from the old woman to the boy.

  They traded knowing glances before Faye answered. “As my great-great-something or other grandson pointed out to me, if I were to purchase a desk for you, I might have my dining room table restored to its original use. I told him the sort of desk I thought would be appropriate and he shopped around until he found one that would suit.”

  “Thank you both very much!” She rushed to give Faye a hug but expressed her thanks to Zach by smiling at him from a distance. Then she asked, “But where will the desk go? There isn’t enough space in my bedroom.”

  “I thought we might designate a portion of the front parlor as your study corner,” suggested Faye.

  “Here, over here,” Hannah pointed eagerly. “Right by the picture window so I can look out at the world.”

  “Not much to see but grass and trees,” Zach murmured. “But the customer is always right. The corner by the window it is.”

  It took him all of five minutes to relocate a curio stand and clear enough space for the desk. Then he moved the coffee table to the side of the room and laid the cardboard box flat in the middle of the floor.

  Faye fetched scissors so that Zach could flip the box open.

  Hannah stared at the blocks of wood inside. “I thought you said it was a desk.”

  Zach, still kneeling on the floor, stared up at her in disbelief. “It’s not collapsible. I have to assemble it.”

  “You?” Hannah sounded dubious.

  “Yeah, me,” Zach retorted in an injured tone. “Believe it or not, I’m good at this sort of thing.”

  Faye interceded. “Never mind, you two. While Zach is unpacking the pieces, I’ll fetch the tools from the kitchen. Hannah, you can bring us all some lemonade and those oatmeal cookies you baked last night.”

  ***

  It took two hours to finish assembling the desk. The process might have gone quicker if Zach had actually read the instruction booklet as Hannah kept urging him to do. He replied that he was a free spirit and that all instruction manuals were written by fascists who wanted to control his thoughts. Faye refused to intervene and even Hannah eventually gave up. Ultimately, Zachary’s trial-and-error approach prevailed and the desk proudly took up residence in the corner of the parlor by the window which faced out over the front lawn.

  Zach fetched a chair from the dining room so Hannah could sit beside her new prized possession.

  The junior carpenter rested from his labors by sprawling across half the couch and helping himself to another glass of lemonade. Faye sat down beside him.

  “So what do you think now?” Zach asked Hannah.

  “I think you’re a skilled craftsman and that it was very kind of you to assemble my desk for me.”

  “I’m sure Zach didn’t mind in the least,” Faye observed with a twinkle in her eye.

  Her descendent blushed.

  The two young people exchanged shy glances of mutual admiration which they thought Faye didn’t see. She chose not to mention it and changed the subject. “Hannah, getting you a study area of your own was just the first part of my plan.”

  They both peered at Faye uncomprehendingly.

  The old woman sighed. “It occurs to me that we can’t hide you away from the world forever. I doubt that your Nephilim pursuers will think to look for you here. At some point, you’ll have to learn how to live in what your old associates might call ‘the Fallen world’.”

  Hannah nodded gravely. “Yes, I know. It’s been months and I’ve been working very hard using the internet and the television to understand how things are in your world. But...” she hesitated. “I know I can’t stay indoors forever.”

  “Nor should you. That’s where Zach comes in.”

  “Huh?” the boy asked suspiciously.

  Turning to him, Faye added, “I want you to tutor Hannah.”

  “Isn’t that what he’s doing already?” The girl sounded puzzled.

  “Not exactly. He’s just been helping you use the internet so you can get some insight into our strange Fallen ways. Now the time has come for you to learn subjects that are taught at school.”

  Transferring her attention to the boy, Faye added, “Zach, I want you to bring all your lesson plans and textbooks over here so Hannah can study the same courses as you. That way, in the fall she’ll be ready to attend classes at an ordinary high school with young people her own age.”

  Hannah’s eyes glowed at the prospect. “Oh, I would like that very much.”

  Zach seemed unconvinced. “So you’re just gonna trot her over to your district high school like she fell out of the sky? The principal will want to know where she came from.”

  “I’m quite prepared for that. My people can prepare paperwork showing that she’s been home-schooled until now.”

  “Your people?” Hannah asked uncertainly.

  Realizing that Faye had slipped, Zach leaped in with an explanation. “Yeah, it’s something we say out here in our world. It means Gamma knows some people who can help her with that. She knows a lot of people.”

  Faye gave the boy a slight wink while Hannah was busy admiring her desk. Then she continued with her explanation. “Hannah is a year younger than you are, Zachary, so she’ll be starting at the level you’re at now. If you tutor her in your coursework, she’ll be that much ahead of her classmates. It will give her more time to adjust to the social atmosphere.”

  “And make everybody hate her at school because she’ll already know all the answers,” Zach protested.

  “Everybody is going to hate me?” Hannah asked in alarm.

  “Calm down. There’s no need to worry.” Faye chuckled. “Zach, she won’t be going to your school so I’m sure the teachers will have a slightly different approach even if the subject matter is the same. I feel it’s important that she have an academic advantage. She’ll have enough of a struggle just trying to fit in socially.”

  I’ll study very hard,” Hannah said earnestly, trying to convince them both. “Do you think I’ll be smart enough to understand the lessons?”

  Zach gave a snort of derision. “After watching how fast you’ve picked up stuff from the net, I’ll be lucky if I can keep up with you!”

  Hannah helped herself to the last cookie. “It’s so strange to think of going to school. Among the Nephilim, a girl my age would be a mother already.” She faltered, apparently thinking of her miscarriage.

  Faye smiled reassuringly. “In the world of the Fallen, it’s highly unusual for a fifteen-year-old girl to be thinking of anything other than school dances and fashion.”

  “That doesn’t sound very scholarly.” Hannah’s voice held a note of disapproval.

  “They haven’t lived through what you have,” Faye countered. “Their childhood years were simpler.”

  “I hope I’ll make you proud of me,” the girl added anxiously.

  Zach studied Hannah with an expression of blank disbelief. “First lesson. If you want to fit in at school, we need to work on your attitude. You have got to stop trying to please people. Plus, you’re way too grateful. No self-respecting American teenager is like that.”

  “They aren’t?” Hannah looked shocked.

  Faye chuckled ruefully. “I’m
afraid my descendent is right, Hannah. You need to cultivate an attitude of long-suffering contempt for your elders. Then you’ll fit right in.” Turning to Zach, she asked, “Am I right, dear?”

  “Fo shizzle, Gamma. Fo shizzle!”

  Chapter 8—Food Fight

  Cassie leaned back in a wooden lawn chair and shut her eyes. The morning sun filtering through leafy tree branches was still too bright. She sighed and blinked, wearily regarding the placid hotel garden scene in front of her. It was so peaceful and she was drowsy enough to fall asleep again even after a full night’s rest. No matter what the clocks said in Botswana, her body was still operating on Central Daylight Time in the good old U.S. of A. She yawned and rubbed her eyes trying to shake off a case of jetlag from hell. It had been a twenty-three hour non-stop flight from Chicago to Johannesburg, South Africa. From there, she and her teammates had taken a short Air Bostwana flight to the northern city of Maun. Erik and Griffin woke up full of energy and were now finishing breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Cassie had wandered off into the gardens because the clinking of glasses and cutlery was giving her a headache.

  A shadow crossed her shoulder. Shielding her eyes against the sun, she peeked up.

  Griffin stood beside her chair holding out a paper cup. “Perhaps this might help,” he suggested.

  She smiled gratefully and took the coffee. “You think of everything, don’t you?”

  “Hardly.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh and sat down cross-legged on the grass beside her.

  “So what time is it here?” she asked, sipping the hot beverage.

  Griffin checked his watch. “Nearly half past eight.”

  “No, I mean what time of year.”

  “Oh, I see.” He nodded sagely. “This must be particularly disorienting for you. Your first trip to the southern hemisphere where everything is reversed.”

  “Am I standing on my head?” Cassie asked languidly. “Because I feel like I might be but I’m too tired to check.”

  “No, my dear Pythia, you are seated in a more or less vertical position.” Griffin chuckled. “In answer to your earlier question, the end of March in Botswana is autumn. Comparable to our late September .”

  “It feels hotter than late September back home,” Cassie observed.

  “That’s because it is. Autumn temperatures in this part of the world approach ninety degrees.”

  “Remind me not to come back during the summer,” the Pythia said.

  “Yes, I hear that it can be quite an oven. After all, two-thirds of the country consists of the Kalahari Desert.”

  Cassie glanced up suspiciously at the verdant leaves hanging over her head. “Then why’s it so green around here. Hidden lawn sprinklers?”

  “Maun is fortunate enough to be situated near a plentiful supply of water. The town itself sits right on the banks of the Thamalakane River but it’s also in close proximity to the Okavango Delta. The delta is an enormous catch-basis for waters flowing downstream out of the Okavango River. During the rainy summer season, the delta covers most of the northwest corner of the country with swampland and lakes. I expect we’ll get a chance to see more of it on our way to our destination.”

  “Which is where exactly? You’ve been pretty close-mouthed about why we’re here.”

  “You’ll find out today,” Griffin replied mysteriously. “Best not to spoil the surprise.”

  Cassie sank deeper into her chair. “I think I need more sleep before I can stand any surprises.”

  At that moment another figure walked up to join the two. “Is she awake yet?”

  “Dude, why are you shouting?” Cassie groaned.

  “I think she needs more coffee,” Griffin confided to Erik.

  Cassie wordlessly handed her now empty cup back to the Scrivener.

  The Paladin reached down and took both Cassie’s hands in his. He unceremoniously pulled her to her feet. “C’mon, Sleeping Beauty. Up and at ‘em. We can get you a caffeine IV in town.”

  Griffin clambered up as well. “Have you spoken to our contact?”

  “Yeah, she’ll be here in about half an hour. I thought we could go over to the outdoor market and kill a little time.”

  “I can kill a little time by catching forty winks,” Cassie suggested vainly. She made an effort to fall back into her chair.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” Erik caught her by the shoulders and stood her upright. “The best thing is to keep you moving. You’ll shake it off.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Cassie grumped. “You can actually sleep on airplanes.”

  “Someday you will too,” Erik replied. “It just takes some getting used to.”

  “I suspect she never may,” Griffin demurred as the three slowly crossed the hotel’s grounds. He pitched the empty coffee cup into a passing garbage can. “Pythias possess highly sensitive nervous systems. It’s a blessing and a curse really. The sensitivity which gives them the ability to read artifacts also takes a toll when they are confronted with too much stimuli. They simply shut down.”

  Cassie rewarded him with an appreciative smile. Turning to Erik, she said, “You see. That’s why I love Griffin. He gets me.”

  At her words, the Scrivener unaccountably stumbled and bumped into Cassie’s shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, his face blushing crimson. “Very clumsy of me.”

  The Pythia steadied him absentmindedly, still focused on her conversation with Erik. “You should cut me some slack. Like Griffin said, I have sensitive nerves.”

  Addressing the Scrivener, the Paladin asked, “And you know this how?”

  Griffin shrugged. “Observation and conjecture.”

  “Yeah right!” Erik snorted. “It’s all moonshine as far as I’m concerned. She’ll be fine once she gets a few more thousand miles under her belt.”

  Cassie shot him an incredulous look. “Unlike me, you’ve got all the sensitivity of a rhinoceros.”

  By this time, the trio had reached the street outside the hotel and paused to get their bearings.

  “Which way?” Griffin asked.

  Erik looked right and then left. “Over here.” He marched down a side street to the left. “It should only be a couple of blocks.”

  “I’ll be timekeeper,” the Scrivener volunteered. “We have to return here by nine o’clock.”

  Erik muttered something unintelligible while the other two trailed after him. The morning sun wasn’t only overly bright, it was also overly strong. Cassie could feel her neck beginning to burn. She noticed several pedestrians sporting colorful umbrellas. “Guess they don’t use those for the rain,” she murmured to Griffin.

  “Only during the summer,” the Scrivener corrected. “Most of the year, umbrellas are used as a shelter from the sun.”

  “After a Chicago winter, I don’t think my epidermis is ready for full-on summer just yet,” Cassie admitted.

  They walked on in silence for a few more blocks before Erik took a sharp right turn at the next side street which opened onto a broad square. Street vendors under cover of large patio umbrellas were busy arranging their wares. The trio ambled past each stand in an unhurried fashion, examining the displays of food, clothing and jewelry all vying for their attention.

  Pausing to watch a vendor cooking an unfamiliar dish, Cassie asked, “What’s that?”

  The woman looked up at her and smiled, flashing a row of bright white teeth. In a clipped accent which Cassie could only describe as a cross between Jamaican and British, the vendor replied, “It is called ‘maguna’. Fried dough balls. Would you like to try some?”

  “No thank you, I just had breakfast,” Cassie demurred. “But it does smell good.”

  “Although maguna is made with wheat flour, I understand that maize rather than wheat is the principal grain in this region,” Griffin observed.

  The vendor nodded. “Yes. We make a porridge of maize meal that is called ‘papa’ and it is often eaten with shredded meat which we call ‘seswa’.”

  “Three new
words to add to my vocabulary.” Cassie moved on to another stand where she stopped to examine a woven basket with an intricate pattern. Glancing up, she noticed that Erik had made a dash for a food vendor two stalls down and was purchasing something in a small paper bag.

  He walked back to the other two with a pleased look on his face. “I haven’t had these in a couple of years,” he said, stuffing some of the contents of the bag into his mouth and munching with great satisfaction.

  Griffin eyed the bag curiously. “What’s that you’ve bought?”

  “Mopane worms,” the Paladin said cheerfully. “I don’t know why they’re called worms. They’re really giant caterpillars that feed off the leaves of mopane trees. Want some?” He held the bag out to Cassie. She took one look at the contents and felt a wave of nausea rising up in her throat.

  “Dude! What the hell!” She backed several paces away.

  “It’s a delicacy in these parts,” Erik replied in an injured tone. “When they’re dried and salted, they taste a lot like Cheetos.”

  Appalled, Cassie replied, “If I ever have a taste for Cheetos, you know what I’ll buy? Cheetos!”

  “Insects are a staple part of the diet in most cultures around the world,” Griffin countered. “They’re really quite nutritious.”

  “That’s true. Somebody told me that these beauties pack more protein than beef.” Erik selected a thick worm segment and held it out to Griffin. “Want to try one?”

  The Scrivener mimicked Cassie’s reaction and backed away a few paces. “Thank you, no,” he said hurriedly. “While in principle I’m quite comfortable with the idea of other people consuming insects, I fear I’m a victim of my own cultural upbringing.”

  Erik shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He popped the worm into his mouth and crunched loudly. “It’s really interesting how they harvest the little suckers. Well, not exactly little. An average worm is about five inches long. They pick them off the trees and then they squeeze out the guts which look like green goo. After that, they spread the worms out on the ground to dry.”

  “Are you trying to make me hurl on purpose?” Cassie was sure her face was now the same shade of green as the worm’s innards. “I don’t get it. In every country we’ve visited so far, you’ve been Joe Cheeseburger. What’s going on with you?”