Secrets Of The Serpent's Heart (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 6) (16 page)

“Whoa, hang on there,” the Pythia protested.

All three of the Arkana operatives raised their hands above their heads.

“What do you intend to do? Shoot her if she gives an incorrect answer?” Griffin cried in disbelief.

“No, I’ll split and you’ll never see me again,” Elle replied. “This gun is for my protection. Who’s to say you aren’t imposters? One of me, three of you. You might force me to take you to the artifact using unpleasant means of persuasion.”

“We’d never do such a thing!” Griffin protested hotly.

“I’ve known you for all of fifteen minutes so you’ll excuse me if I don’t take your word as gospel.” Elle’s tone was grim.

“Ask your question,” Cassie commanded flatly.

Elle transferred her attention back to the Pythia. “Here goes. You need to give me a physical description of the person who hid the artifact in this cave.”

“What?” The Scrivener’s voice echoed into the darkness. “That’s absurd! How is she supposed to know that?”

“Griffin, it’s alright. I got this.” Cassie lowered her arms cautiously. “I have to walk back to the niche to pick up a vibe about what happened here.”

“Knock yourself out.” Elle kept the pistol trained on her as Cassie moved toward the shadows blanketing the side wall.

The Pythia contemplated the now empty niche. She tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. So much was riding on this moment. If she couldn’t get a vision on cue, the sentinel would vanish forever. Elle would take with her the Arkana’s only hope of finding the Sage Stone. The quest that had led them across four continents could end in the next five minutes depending on the answer Cassie gave. She smiled wryly to herself. No pressure there. She uttered a silent prayer to the Minoans. “OK, you guys. If you really want me to find your precious relic, then you better step up. Show me what happened in this cave three thousand years ago.” She closed her eyes and placed her hand inside the niche. Immediately, the scene sprang to life in vivid detail. Cassie waited until she was sure there was no more left to see. Then, giving a sigh of relief and a whispered “thank you,” she turned to face Elle.

“There were only four of them left by the time they got here. It was a larger group when they first started out from Crete. A few must have died along the way. I saw the priestess. She was the one who placed the artifact in the niche. She’s an old woman with long white hair. I’ve had visions of her before. She’s always dressed in a white robe. When she was here she was wearing a white hooded cloak too. It must have been cold that day.”

“Congratulations.” Elle nodded with grudging respect. “You’ve just won our stupendous grand prize along with a six month supply of carnauba wax.” Treating Griffin to a scornful glance, she added, “And I’m the one who’s crazy for trusting East Coast psychics.”

He shuffled his feet in embarrassment. “I withdraw the observation.”

“No hard feelings, I hope.” The sentinel slipped the gun back into her bag. “Dealing in lost treasure is a dangerous business. A girl can’t be too careful.”

Cutting to the chase, Rou demanded, “Where is the artifact?”

Elle raised her arms expressively. “Not here, lemon drop. The cave isn’t safe anymore which is so ironic when you come to think about it. This was a secure hiding place for three thousand years. The locals were never a threat. It would have been sacrilegious for them to touch, much less remove, anything from the cave. Nope, the locals were OK. Even the first wave of tourists was OK since the only way to get here was on foot or by horse. Right up through my grandmother’s time, sentinels could keep tabs on strangers in the area by simply using the village grapevine.

“But that was the end of an era. When the cableway was built in 2005, it could haul droves of people to the top of the mountain in a matter of minutes. What used to be a handful turned into hundreds and then thousands. When I became sentinel, I knew I had to move the damn relic or lose it.” She shrugged philosophically. “That turned out to be a blessing in disguise since it meant I wouldn’t have to hang out here full-time. I could stash the artifact someplace else where nobody but me could find it.”

“So where is it now?” Cassie asked.

“The safest place in all of Asia to hide a goddess artifact.” The sentinel gave a knowing smile.

“And that would be?” The Pythia was growing impatient.

“Indonesia, of course.”

“I beg your pardon,” Griffin squinted at her.

‘Did I mumble?” Elle challenged.

“Right then.” The Scrivener sighed helplessly. “Ours is not to reason why. Cassie, pack your bags. We’re off to Indonesia.”

Chapter 28—Abominable Writing

“Are you done with these?” Chris leaned over the pile of journals Daniel had been perusing.

The Scion rubbed his eyes wearily. “This man may have been a competent explorer but it’s obvious he was no writer!”

“He is kind of long-winded.” Chris slid three slim volumes under a stack of reference books. He placed all of them on a cart to be wheeled back to storage.

For the past week, the pair had combed through the explorer’s journals searching for something that might help them find their mysterious Himalayan river. They worked on a few volumes at a time so that the full collection wouldn’t be missed.

Chris took a seat beside Daniel and lowered his voice. “We need to pick up the pace. I just heard the entire set might be moved to a branch library next week.”

“How many more books do we have to go through?” Daniel’s tone was bleak.

“About ten volumes.”

The Scion slumped over the reading room table. “I don’t think I can stand any more. The man is a complete barbarian. If he isn’t writing about what he slaughtered for breakfast, he’s writing about what he intends to massacre for supper. It makes you wonder if he ever digested a vegetable in his entire life. And when he isn’t writing about murdering his food, he writes about animals he intends to assassinate for sport. The wildlife of the Himalayas weren’t safe with him in the region. Do you know he scribbled two entire volumes reporting his interviews with sherpas who thought they’d seen yetis? He said he wanted to shoot one and stuff it. A yeti, that is, not a sherpa.”

The librarian grinned. “The quest for the Abominable Snowman, huh? At least it’s a diversion.”

“Diversion?” Daniel’s tone was shocked. “His descriptions are mind-numbing. Listen to this passage: ‘Although none of the guides I have employed heretofore were able to produce tangible evidence of a yeti footprint, I continue to be sanguine in my hopes. My persistence shall be rewarded. We have now traveled to the foothills of the Tanggula Mountain Range in the central portion of the Tibetan plateau. A profusion of yeti footprints, if not the creatures themselves, have supposedly been found near the top of Mount Geladaindong. At twenty-two thousand feet above sea level, it is the tallest summit in the range. My sherpa is adamant that the elusive creatures live upon the high sharp peak, for that is what the mountain’s name means in Tibetan. I have further been informed by the same reliable source that the area also boasts a colony of snow leopards. I should very much like to bag one during my stay. Its head would make a fine addition to my trophy room and—’”

“Stop!” Chris commanded, gripping Daniel’s arm.

The Scion peered at his friend. “I know. I can’t bear it either. It’s awful stuff. Aside from the writing itself, aren’t snow leopards endangered?”

“No, that isn’t what I meant.” Chris cast a wary glance around the reading room. Its two other occupants were immersed in their own studies. He lowered his voice. “Go back to the explorer’s description of the mountain. Read that part again.”

Daniel scanned the page, finding the relevant passage. “Here it is. ‘A profusion of yeti footprints, if not the creatures themselves, have supposedly been found near the top of Mount Geladaindong. At twenty-two thousand feet above sea level, it is the tallest summit in the range.’” The Scion looked inquisitively at the librarian.

Chris was frowning in concentration. “No, that’s not it. Read the next sentence.”

“‘My sherpa is adamant that the elusive creatures live upon the high sharp peak, for that is what the mountain’s name means in Tibetan.’” Daniel stopped abruptly and turned to Chris.

Both men smiled simultaneously.

“High sharp peak,” the librarian repeated in an elated tone.

“That’s it!” Daniel exclaimed. “We found it!”

“Shhhh!” A warning shush came from one of the reading room’s occupants.

“Very sorry,” the Scion murmured.

“Let’s go back to my desk,” Chris urged. “I want to check something on the computer. And bring that book with you.”

They hastened back to the Reference Desk and Chris darted behind the counter. “The whole point of mentioning the ‘high sharp peak’ in the riddle was to get a fix on a river, right?”

Daniel stood in front of the counter. He nodded solemnly. “A river that runs red to the serpent’s heart. I’m not sure what that part means.”

“One thing at a time.” Chris studied his monitor intently. He typed a few keystrokes. “I’m trying to find out if the headwaters of any major river start at that peak. What was it again?”

Daniel spelled the name.

“Jackpot!” Chris turned the monitor so Daniel could see it.

“The glacial meltwaters beside Mount Geladaindong give rise to the Yangtze River.” The Scion read the words in a disbelieving tone. “We solved part of the riddle by stumbling on an obscure reference in an obscure journal purely by accident.”

“There are no accidents, my friend.” Chris retorted.

Daniel squinted at him.

“Never mind. That’s a much longer conversation.” The librarian began typing again. “I want to test a theory about your riddle. What was the name of that mountain you climbed in Nepal?”

“It was called Kailash.”

Chris typed again. “Latitude thirty one degrees north.” He typed another string of characters then turned triumphantly to the Scion. “The headwaters of the Yangtze are also located at thirty one degrees north.”

“So that’s what the first line of the riddle meant. I finally understand it.” Daniel was speaking more to himself than to the librarian. “The flock of doves originated on Kailash and flew in a straight line toward sunrise—east. They perched on the high sharp peak where the river begins. It’s all so obvious.”

Chris was only partially listening, intent on a new search. “Ha!” he exclaimed. “And here’s another piece of your jigsaw puzzle. When the Yangtze flows from the mountain, it starts out as a smaller river.”

“The Ulan Moron,” Daniel read aloud. “That’s a funny name for a river.”

“Not Moron, you adorable wingnut. It’s pronounced ‘Mor-AHN’.” Chris turned his gaze fully on Daniel. “In English, Ulan Moron means ‘Red River’.”

“‘Where the river flows red to the serpent’s heart’.” Daniel repeated the clue. “The Red River.”

Chris leaned his elbow on the counter and propped his chin in his hand. “You’d better start packing, Danny Boy.”

“But we’ve only solved the first line,” Daniel protested.

“One down, one to go.” The librarian’s eyes were twinkling. “Between the two of us, I’ll bet we can crack the rest of that riddle before the week is out.”

Griffin, Cassie and Elle handed their boarding passes to the gate attendant and found their row on the plane. It held three seats across. Elle chose the center, Cassie the window and Griffin the aisle for more leg room.

Cassie leaned back against the cushioned headrest, breathed a sigh of relief, and closed her eyes. It had been a hectic few days. When they’d first come down the mountain, Elle insisted that they go to her grandmother’s house so the matriarch could meet the seer who had come to claim the artifact at last. The old woman, sturdy in spite of her eighty-odd years, immediately announced a feast to celebrate the occasion. None of the rest of Elle’s extended family had been let in on the sentinel secret. They were told that the celebration was to welcome Elle and her Western friends.

Aside from yak butter tea, fried pancakes, seasonal vegetables and Guangdang wine, the guests were offered slices of pork from a pig which had been pressed and aged for seven years. When Elle explained to the visitors that seven-year-old pig meat was the equivalent of uncorking a bottle of 1921 Dom Perignon, they were suitably impressed.

While the festivities continued on into the night, Griffin slipped away to call Maddie with an update. When he reported back to his colleagues, he said the Chatelaine would contact the Tibetan twins immediately. Rinchen was to fly to Lugu Lake to help Rou keep watch just in case the Nephilim arrived sooner than expected. Rabten was to fly to Indonesia where he would meet Cassie and Griffin to arrange transport for the real artifact. Rou seemed anxious about being left behind until she was told her role as lookout was critical to the success of their quest.

Once the party broke up, Elle made their complicated travel arrangements as Cassie and Griffin packed. They left early the next morning to catch the first bus back to Lijiang. The ride itself took seven hours over hazardous mountain roads. Once in Lijiang, they headed for the airport and a two and a half hour flight to Guangzhou on China’s southeast coast. The following day they boarded a five-hour flight to Jakarta in Indonesia. This stop included an overnight stay. Given their grueling travel schedule, the layover was not unwelcome. The next morning they boarded a plane for their final destination—Padang City—the provincial capital of West Sumatra.

Cassie’s musings ended abruptly when she felt the plane jolt into motion as it taxied to the runway. She opened her eyes and sat up to watch the takeoff through her tiny window.

Once they were airborne, Griffin turned toward Elle with a quizzical expression on his face. “You still haven’t explained your choice of hiding place for the artifact. I’m sure Cassie is as curious as I am to know why you selected Sumatra.”

The Pythia immediately switched her attention from the scenery to the sentinel. “He’s right. I am. Why Sumatra?”

“I suppose you’ve both noticed that Asia isn’t the most female-friendly of continents.” Elle grimaced. “In these parts, women are treated like second class citizens when they aren’t being treated like annoyingly verbal livestock. My Mosuo mother grew up in a completely different atmosphere where women were respected and had a lot of self-esteem. She raised me that way too. Life in the Big Apple isn’t so different from life around Lugu Lake. Pushy New Yorkers respect anybody who can shove back so my mom and I fit in pretty easily there. My life would have been a lot simpler if your artifact was hidden in a cave in the States or even Europe. But no. I was stuck guarding a goddess artifact hidden in the global epicenter of patriarchy. Since I didn’t want to take the relic out of Asia, I had to find a pocket of matriarchy somewhere other than Lugu Lake.”

She paused in her explanation while the stewardess came through with refreshments. During their travels, Elle’s frosty attitude had thawed considerably. It must have dawned on her that Griffin and Cassie were rescuing her from the irksome duties of sentinel. In consequence, she became as cordial toward them as her abrasive nature would allow.

Once the attendant was out of earshot, the sentinel continued. “At first I considered Taiwan as a possible location.”

“Taiwan?” Cassie asked in surprise. “Why there?”

“Because it’s an island and islands seem pretty good at resisting the march of ‘progress’.” Elle made air quotes to emphasize her point. “Even after the Han Chinese took over, most of the local tribes remained matriarchal. To this day, some of the aborigines still follow the old ways.”

“Sounds ideal,” Griffin observed. “And yet we aren’t flying there today.”

“That’s because it belongs to patriarchal China,” Elle countered. “Who knows when some crazy new government program is going to mess with Taiwanese culture on a local level? I mean, look what happened to the Buddhists when China first invaded Tibet. I figured I was better off taking the artifact out of the country entirely.”

She paused for a sip of bottled water. “So I had to broaden my search. At first I struck out. The farther north I looked, the more male-dominated the culture seemed to get.”

“That’s because the overlords infiltrated China from the northwest,” Cassie informed her.

“Overlords?”

Griffin intercepted the question. “The less you know about our overall mission, the better. Suffice it to say that patriarchy was transmitted to Asia from the northwestern corner of the country to the southeast.”

“Hmm.” Elle pondered the comment. “You know that actually might explain a lot. Once I changed course and focused on the south, my luck improved. Thailand, Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam were once completely matriarchal.”

“We’ve been throwing the term ‘matriarchy’ around quite freely today,” the Scrivener remarked. “Yet there are scholars who will adamantly insist that such a form of social organization doesn’t exist. Of course, they’ve defined the term so narrowly that it allows them to dismiss the phenomenon as a myth. They wish to classify matriarchy as the mirror image of patriarchy—a society in which women dominate and oppress men. Of course, that has never been the case. Female-centric societies tend to practice gender equality.

“Mainstream anthropologists have parsed the social structure of such cultures using a variety of terms to describe separate practices.
 
When inheritance is traced through the female line, they call it ‘matrilineal’. In cultures where the husband moves in with the wife’s family, they call it ‘matrilocal’.
 
If women in a particular culture are given more rights than men, it’s called ‘matrifocal’. However, these same anthropologists would never use the dreaded word ‘matriarchy’ to describe a culture which might possess all the features I’ve just discussed.”

Elle glanced at the Scrivener dispassionately. “Scholars can slice and dice it any way they want but if the key decision-maker in a family is the mother, then I say it’s a matriarchy.”

“I’m with her,” Cassie agreed.

The sentinel continued. “I found matriarchies everywhere I looked south of China. Among the traditional cultures of southeast Asia, the ladies were in charge. In some places they still are. In Thailand, there are more female construction workers than male.”

“Then why are we flying over Thailand rather than landing there?” Griffin asked impishly.

Elle shrugged. “For the same reason that I rejected Taiwan as a possible hidey-hole. All the countries I mentioned are too close to the Chinese border. In the bad old days, imperial China invaded Vietnam and Burma on a regular basis. Even the countries next door had their cultural values warped by those conflicts.”

“So you wanted to put a big body of water between our artifact and Han China,” the Pythia concluded. “That’s why we’re going to Indonesia?”

“Only partly.” Elle gave a mysterious smile. “We’re also going to Indonesia because it contains the largest remaining matriarchal society on the planet. Four million women walking around like they own the place because they do. We’re going to visit the Minangkabau.”

“Of course!” Griffin exclaimed. “It’s an obvious choice.”

Cassie leaned over and squinted at him. “To you maybe. Care to fill me in?”

The Scrivener apologized. “I’m sorry for not mentioning them sooner but the thought didn’t occur to me. It’s no secret that I’ve had very little active involvement with the Asian troves. The only reason I have any knowledge of the Minangkabau at all is because we are in the early stages of setting up a trove there.”

Elle interrupted. “What’s a trove?”

Griffin hesitated.

Cassie cut in. “That also falls into the category of things we shouldn’t talk about. If you know too much about our operation, it might put you at risk.”

The sentinel eyed her skeptically. “And here I thought you guys were just on a scavenger hunt.”

“More like a scavenger hunt with flying bullets.” The Pythia grinned ruefully. “There are some very bad people who want to get their hands on the Minoan relics. Let’s just say it would be better for the world if they didn’t.”

“Relics plural?” Elle’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean there’s more than one?”

“Like I said, the less you know—”

Elle put up her hands in resignation. “Forget I asked. The last thing I want is to be caught in the middle of your private war.” She shifted slightly in her seat, turning her attention back to Griffin. “You were saying something about the Minangkabau people?”

Griffin hastened to elaborate. “Yes, the Minangkabau hold the distinction of being the largest remaining matriarchy in the world. Even the most dyed-in-wool mainstream anthropologists can’t deny it since the people describe their own society as a matriarchy.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” Cassie murmured.

“They are quite a fascinating culture,” Griffin continued. “As you might expect, property is passed to female descendants under the rationale that women need a home to provide for their offspring while men have the luxury of living anywhere. When a woman marries, her husband moves in with her family and is guided by their decisions.”

The sentinel chimed in. “The Minangkabau believe that undirected male energy is chaotic. It disrupts the harmony of the family if left unchecked by the wisdom of the elders, both male and female.” She smiled wryly. “Given the guys I’ve dated over the past decade, I’d say the Minangkabau got it right—at least about men under fifty anyway.”

Griffin forged ahead, trying to ignore the unintended insult. “Though their village headmen are male, they are elected by the property owners.”

“Who all happen to be female,” Cassie stated.

“Correct.”

“That’s exactly like the Iroquois,” she added.

“It’s like most other matriarchal societies around the world,” Griffin countered. “Women control the resources and men manage political affairs with their consent. Even if that division hadn’t originally been part of their culture, the patriarchal societies surrounding the Minangkabau would have eventually pressured them to appoint a male authority to represent them in the outside world. The most curious trait of these people is that they are all staunch Muslims.”

“What?” Cassie registered disbelief. “How is that even possible?”

Elle laughed at her reaction. “Islam in Sumatra is an entirely different animal than in Saudi Arabia. Just to give you an example, a lot of women in Sumatra wear the hijab. That’s the traditional headscarf worn by Muslim women. To people who live in the West, the hijab is a symbol of Islamic male oppression. But that isn’t how the Minangkabau view it. The women have managed to hang onto their power, headscarves and all.”

“I suspect that many of the traits which we define as Islamic are merely Arabic,” Griffin said. “Culture frequently shapes religion rather than the other way round. The Minangkabau have a fluid and adaptive way of dealing with the outside world. Assimilation and compromise are excellent strategies to guarantee social stability. Of course, it also helps that Indonesian Muslims weren’t converted at the point of a sword. The spread of the religion was entirely peaceful. Islamic traders from India first began to appear in the area in the 14
^th
century. Their beliefs became fashionable with the rulers of various principalities and some converted. Over time, the rest of the population followed suit. However, the Minangkabau appear to have adopted some Islamic ideas and discarded those which were at odds with their culture, such as the notion of male superiority.”

“They have this thing called ‘adat’,” said Elle. “It’s hard to translate but it means something like custom or tradition or even cosmic balance. They live their lives by it. It’s just as important to them as Islam. Maybe more so since it’s been around longer.”

“Still I have to wonder.” Cassie frowned as a new thought struck her. “If they are Islamic then I don’t think they would take kindly to graven goddess images of any kind. How did you manage to convince them to protect the relic for you?”

“I had to find some common ground. After a little digging, I learned that the Minangkabau believe in a semi-mythical Queen Mother who founded their culture along with her sons. They think they’re all descended from her and she’s still venerated in songs and stories. All I had to do was tap into that.”

Given the puzzled reaction of her listeners, Elle elaborated. “I asked around until I found the most influential matriarch in one of the hill villages outside Padang. I explained to her that I had a cherished relic which had belonged to the Queen Mother of my own people. I told her that it was no longer safe to keep it in my homeland because the men there had forgotten how to respect their mothers and they might destroy it. I asked her to hide the artifact for me until I came back to claim it and she agreed.”