The Goddess Legacy (19 page)

“What’s wrong, Divya?” Allie asked. She had decided to feign ignorance of the professor’s untimely demise.

“Oh, you haven’t heard? It’s Dr. Sharma. He…he’s dead.”

“What? Oh, my God. I just saw him yesterday! What was it?” Allie’s face darkened. “Car accident? Heart attack?”

“No. He was…murdered,” she said, and stifled another sob.

“You’re joking!”

Divya’s shuddering shoulders confirmed that she wasn’t, and Allie gave her time to work through the grief. She took a seat across from the Indian woman and shook her head, and then fished out a packet of tissues and offered her one. Divya took it with a nod, and Allie sat silently, grateful that the police obviously hadn’t connected them with the murder or, if they had, were staying quiet about it. There was no way Divya suspected her; nobody was a good enough actress to pull her response off – it was genuine.

Eventually Divya dried her tears and fixed Allie with a stare over her thick spectacles.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a terrible shock, as you can imagine,” she said. “Is there any way I can help you?”

“Oh, it seems so unimportant now,” Allie said.

“What?”

“Dr. Sharma had helped our colleague with an inscription on an old dagger, and he offered to finish the job if we were ever able to locate an image of the other side.”

“Yes. I remember the script. An archaic substitution cipher. Trickier than many I’ve worked on, but no match for my computer.”

“You worked on it?”

She looked away. “The professor was a very busy man and didn’t have time for the project, so he asked me to translate it. I’ve developed software as part of my doctoral thesis that helps decrypt these types of codes. It took a year to program it, but it’s the only one of its kind I know of for Sanskrit.”

“Really? How does it work?”

Divya brightened slightly to discuss her creation. “It’s simple, really. It identifies frequently recurring symbols first and substitutes others, trying every possibility until something intelligible is produced. If that doesn’t work, it continues until something clicks. It’s CPU intensive, but has yet to fail.”

“That’s amazing.”

Divya blushed and stared at her desktop. “It’s not that much of a leap. Mainly automating what I’d have to do by hand, using basic cracking techniques.”

“Then…you could translate the second piece?”

Divya shrugged. “Certainly. I have the original key for that cipher on my computer. Do you have the picture?”

Allie retrieved her phone and pulled up the photograph she’d taken the prior night. She handed the cell to Divya, who placed it on her desk and turned to her computer. After tapping in some commands and opening a program, she painstakingly typed in the dagger script and, after inspecting her work to verify it was identical to the characters on the blade, moved her mouse to a blue button in the center of the window and clicked.

Another window opened, and she scanned the contents and then sat back. Allie realized she was holding her breath and slowly exhaled.

“It says, ‘In the temple of the destroyer, the sacred mosaic shows the way.’ Actually, ‘sacred’ could also be ‘hallowed.’ It’s not so precise.”

Allie frowned. “That’s as clear as mud, then.”

“Often these things are cryptic, even when decoded.”

“The first part was something about the path of the faithful in or near a cave, and this says the destroyer’s temple has a mosaic that shows the way.”

“I have the original translation here,” Divya said and tapped at the computer. She nosed closer to the screen and nodded as she read. “‘Within the blessed cave of the six-headed fair one, the path of the devout can be seen by the righteous. In the temple of the destroyer, the sacred mosaic shows the way.’” She sat back in her chair, brow creased in concentration. “The reference to ‘the fair one’ is clearly Shiva, who is described as having six heads – only five of which are visible to all but the enlightened – who’s also commonly referred to as the destroyer of the transformer. But that’s very odd. I know of every major temple in northern India, and there’s none devoted to Shiva anywhere near Kashmir that has a mosaic. The closest one is in Kedarnath, one of the twelve Jyotirlinga temples mentioned in the Shiva Purana. Most of the largest ones are in the south – in Andhra Pradesh.”

Allie let Divya think, sensing that she was processing something in her head.

Divya nodded. “I mean, the reference to Shiva’s cave is fairly clear. It’s probably referring to…but that makes no sense.”

“You know where this cave is?” Allie asked softly.

“Perhaps. But…as I said, there is no temple anywhere around there. The cipher on the dagger is consistent with ones used in the Kashmir region in the eighteenth century, and I know the professor thought it was tied to the area, but…” Divya seemed to remember Allie’s presence and turned to her with a sad smile. “I’m sorry, I forget you’re not from here. There is a place called Shiv Khori that this could be referring to.”

“No need to apologize,” Allie said, waiting for the young scholar to get to the point. “What’s Shiv Khori? A temple?”

Divya removed her glasses and cleaned the lenses with a fold of her sari, and then sat forward and spoke quietly.

“Shiv Khori is a sacred cave in the mountains of Kashmir.”

“A cave?” Allie blurted.

“Oh, yes. Rather famous here now, but only since independence from the British. Before then it was obscure. Almost inaccessible, in the side of a mountain, it’s a site that draws many devotees these days for pilgrimages. You have to hike several kilometers from the nearest road to reach it, but every year, more do.” Divya paused. “But I’m afraid that doesn’t help much, because as I said, there is no temple per se. Just a shrine and some carvings. Certainly no mosaics.”

“What about the translation? Could it be garbling the script somehow, mistaking temple for something else?”

“Anything’s possible,” Divya conceded, appearing to lose interest.

“I have an old photograph of a mosaic that could relate to this,” Allie said.

Divya appeared surprised. “You do?”

“Yes, let me find it.” Allie slid her phone across the desk and began swiping through photographs.

Divya held up her hand, and when she spoke, her voice was almost a whisper. “Stop. Go back. You have a photo of the entire dagger?”

“Well, yes, but the script is only on the blade…”

“Let me see it.”

Allie reversed to the full image of the dagger and passed the phone back to the grad student, who studied it intensely before sighing. “It is as I suspected. On the hilt, you can see the abrasions.”

“Yes. Is there some significance to them?”

“Not really. I mean, there’s no message, if that’s what you’re asking. But it confirms my suspicion.”

“Which is?”

“It’s not a dagger. It’s a sword. A miniature sword.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because it was gripped in the hand of one of our most famous Hindu deities.”

“Who?”

“Kali. She is often depicted with, among other things, a sword. Sometimes several. This must have been separated from another relic, which is where the abrasions came from. I’d bet my doctorate on that. It is the sword of Kali. You can tell by the stylized serpents molded into the handle, as well as other giveaways I won’t bore you with. But I’m certain.” Divya hesitated as she scrutinized the image. “It’s possible that the message is a partial one, and that there is more script that completes it elsewhere on the depiction. That would not be unusual.”

“Really?”

“I have seen relics from the same period with similar approaches. One completes the other. There is no way of being sure, of course, without seeing it, but that is the most likely given the partial nature of the script.”

Allie absorbed the information and then scrolled to the black-and-white image of the mosaic. She handed Divya the phone. “Recognize that?”

Divya studied the image and then passed it back to Allie. “I’m afraid not.”

Allie’s shoulders slumped. “Are you certain?”

“It’s obviously a very old photo. I’m more an expert on linguistics than theology or archeology. I’m sorry.”

“Do you know anyone who might be able to help?”

“I can check with some of the professor’s colleagues. But you have to understand – there are so many minor temples in India, it would be nearly impossible to place it unless there was some noteworthy aspect of the mosaic. And frankly, this looks like a typical depiction of Kali dancing or standing on the body of Shiva. It is a classic image that appears in many place – the rough Hindu equivalent of Christian icons of Jesus with a halo, looking skyward in prayer.”

“Oh. It’s that common?”

“Yes. Perhaps now you see why it’s difficult to say with any certainty where the photograph was taken.”

“I understand. Could I leave a copy with you to show around and see if anyone can identify it?”

“Sure, but with the professor’s death, I have many tasks that will have to take priority.” Divya’s voice trailed off with her last words, her attention shifting back to the murder of her mentor.

“What’s your email address?” Allie asked.

Divya gave it to her and Allie sent the image as an attachment from her phone. The Indian woman confirmed that she had received it, and Allie stood, seeing nothing to be gained from lingering.

“Where exactly is Shiv Khori in Kashmir?”

“West of Salar Dam. Maybe…twenty or so kilometers. There is a village south of it: Ransoo. It has become more developed as more devotees make the pilgrimage. They estimate half a million will pass through the cave this year, maybe more, so it is not hard to find.”

“Then there are buses? That sort of thing?”

Divya frowned at the question. “Of course. It is rural, but getting more developed. However, as I said, there is a long stretch, perhaps three kilometers, that must be traveled on foot.”

Allie smiled. “Divya, let me give you my local phone number in case you find anything out about the mosaic. I would be extremely grateful if you would call me if you do.” She jotted the number down on a message slip and handed it to Divya. “I have a foundation that will soon be making grants to worthwhile causes. If you’re interested, I’d like you to stay in touch – I would love to provide some sort of support for you to help with concluding your studies.”

Divya’s attitude chilled, and Allie realized instantly she’d misstepped.

“Thank you, but I am adequately supported already. My family has been very fortunate – my father is CEO of a major technology company here.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I meant no offense…I just thought that, well, I wanted to show my appreciation.”

“It is easy to conclude that everyone in India is poor, but that is not the case. It is an understandable misconception.”

Allie nodded, chastened, and decided to cut her losses. “Thank you so much for all the help, and I’m sorry about the professor. He was very sweet. What a tragedy.”

Moisture welled again in Divya’s eyes. “Yes. It is.”

Drake was standing in the shade of one of the trees when Allie emerged from the building. She rushed to him and took his hand, surprising him, and they walked together to the main road while Allie described her meeting. Drake listened in silence and then stopped before they reached the boulevard.

“You said there’s another icon?” he asked.

“No, I said she believes the dagger is a miniature sword that was clutched in the hand of another icon – probably Kali, if she’s right.”

“Kali. Isn’t she the goddess of death?”

“No. She’s the Hindu deity of quite a few things, including destruction of evil.”

“Why do I keep thinking death?”

“Probably from bad B movies.”

They resumed walking and, when they reached the sidewalk, began the process of attracting the attention of a passing rickshaw or taxi. Drake glanced at Allie as they waited for the light to turn.

“So what’s the next step? We know there’s a cave mentioned, but the rest is nonsense – what’s your professional assessment, Dr. Allie?”

“If the dagger had script on it, maybe the other relic does, too.”

“The sword, you mean,” he said, patting her bag.

“Potato, potahto. We need to find the other relic.”

“Kali.”

“Missing a sword.”

“Uh-huh. That should be a piece of cake. Because we don’t have enough on our plate.”

She swatted his chest. “You wanted adventure. This is adventure.”

“I thought it would be easier. Maybe involve more eating and drinking. And air conditioning.”

“Whatever.”

“How are you planning to find it?”

“I haven’t figured that part out yet.” She waved at a cab streaking toward them from the light, and smiled back at Drake. “But maybe it won’t be that hard. Because if we can figure out where the dagger came from, that should lead us to Kali.”

“The sword,” Drake corrected.

“And there’s one person who probably knows.”

Drake’s eyes lit with understanding. “This sounds like a job for Indiana Singh!”

“Who seems to like his money well enough.”

“Root of all evil.”

She nodded. “The love of it, anyway.”

Spencer’s new phone rang and vibrated on the hard surface of the computer station where he was working, and he snatched it up and held it to his ear, looking around the crowded Internet café as he did so. The place was filled with teenagers gaming or fiddling around on social media, and nobody seemed interested in a male twice their age doing historical research.

“How’d it go?” he asked, his voice low, ignoring the din in the background on Allie’s end of the line.

“Good.” Allie gave him the rundown on Divya’s revelations and their thinking. “What about you?”

“I’m about halfway through my list of mosaics and going cross-eyed from staring at them. They all start looking the same after a while.”

“Sorry to hear that. I’ve got another idea, though. Pull up all the information you can on the Shiv Khori cave. I want to understand the best way to get there, any legends surrounding it – photos, if you can find them, the works.”

“Will do. When you want to meet up?”