The Granite Key (Arkana Mysteries) (6 page)

Chapter 12
– Power Tools

It was late afternoon when Abraham decided to allow himself the indulgence of half an hour in the treasury. It was a secret room concealed behind a panel in his office wall. Only a few trusted followers knew of its existence. The room’s contents were too precious to become common knowledge.

He typed a code into the keypad next to the steel door. It swung open on noiseless hinges and then shut behind him. The design of the interior resembled a bank safe. A windowless space with rows of small metal doors lining the walls. Individual security keypads were mounted on each one. A fluorescent fixture glared down from the ceiling on a bare table standing in the center of the room.

Abraham walked up to one of the small metal doors and typed a code into its keypad. When the door swung open, he withdrew the most recent addition to his collection and placed the object on the table. It was a small round shield that a warrior would strap to his forearm. More properly, it would be called a buckler. This one was green. At its center were painted five small blue shields arranged in the shape of a cross. Each shield was decorated with five gold circles. The monetary worth of the buckler was negligible. It wasn’t made of gold or adorned with precious gems but its value lay in its miraculous history. In that regard it was priceless.

During the Middle Ages,
Portugal
was overrun by Moors who wished to convert their foes to Islam at the point of a sword. Christians had fought against them for centuries in an effort to reclaim their country. In 1139, Don Afonso Henriquez was about to engage the heathen horde on the plains of Ourique. Shortly before the battle, he saw a vision in the eastern sky of Christ on a cross. He believed this to be a portent of victory. His troops went on the slaughter the Moorish army and, at the end of that day, Don Afonso was named the first king of
Portugal
. In commemoration of his vision, Afonso adorned his buckler with five shields forming the shape of a cross, each with five bezants representing the wounds of Christ. An invaluable treasure and clear proof of divine favor.

Abraham moved the buckler to the left side of the table and went to another compartment to retrieve a second item. It was much smaller than the shield. A jagged piece of iron. A fragment broken from the tip of a spear. Utterly worthless for the raw material from which it was made. But, once again, appearances could be deceiving. This bit of common metal was a piece of the Longinus Lance. The spear which had pierced the side of Christ when he died on the cross. It was called the Longinus Lance because it had belonged to a Roman centurion of that name but the weapon had other names too. Most often it was called the Spear Of Destiny because it was said that whoever possessed it could never be defeated in combat. Another portion of the spear tip had briefly belonged to Adolph Hitler during the Second World War. When he lost it to the enemy, his fortunes changed for the worse. That piece was now housed in the
Vatican
under the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica.

The fragment which Abraham was holding had once belonged to Louis IX of
France
. The king had enshrined it, along with the crown of thorns from the crucifixion in Saint Chapelle in
Paris
. Both objects disappeared from history after the French Revolution. One of them had now found its way into Abraham’s private collection.
 

The old man moved the lance tip to the right side of the table. He went back to the metal doors again. This time he retrieved a helmet and carried it back to the table. Metcalf examined the object in detail. It was of Roman design, fabricated of copper and iron. It conformed closely to the shape of the head, covering the ears. A neck guard protruded from the back and cheek protectors jutted from each side. It was surmounted by a horsehair crest and visor inlaid with precious gems. Unlike the other two relics, this object had great monetary value. Each stone in the visor was worth a fortune. Not surprising since this helmet had been worn by an emperor. But the most valuable part was something the casual observer couldn’t see. An iron spike embedded inside the helmet. A simple iron spike. Unremarkable in itself but millions had died because they believed in what it represented—or didn’t believe.

When
Constantine
the First was emperor of
Rome
, his mother
Saint Helena
converted to Christianity. She went to the
Holy Land
in an effort to find sacred relics. She was able to locate the true cross and the nails that were used in the crucifixion. Two of the nails she sent back to
Constantine
. According to legend, she had one of them placed in her son’s helmet and the other in his horse’s bridle. It was believed that the relics would protect him from harm. Metcalf was holding in his hands the helmet of the Emperor Constantine. He felt sure that the emperor’s success as a military commander was due in large part to the sacred objects he carried with him into war.

There were many tales associated with
Constantine
. Like Don Afonso, the emperor had been blessed with a vision. Just before a decisive battle, he saw a flaming cross appear in the eastern sky. A cross shaped like a P with a letter X through it. In Greek, the letters P and X or Chi and Ro spelled the first two letters of Christ’s name.
Constantine
took this as a sign that the Christian god favored him. At the same moment, the emperor heard a voice telling him, “In hoc signo vinces.”
 
In this sign
conquer
. The warrior’s cross led his troops to victory that day.

Abraham set the helmet down in the center of the table and regarded the prizes of his collection with satisfaction. A shield, a lance, and a helmet. All of them had brought triumph in battle to their possessors. Taken together, they should prove to be invincible. The French had a name for such relics. They called them objets de puissance. Objects of power.

Metcalf looked up from the items on the table and surveyed the silent, locked compartments that lined the walls. He had spent a lifetime acquiring their contents. Each artifact carried the sanction of God. Metcalf would need all their powers if the prophecy was to be fulfilled.

He knew that the Blessed Nephilim had lost faith over the years. They had waited more than a century for the Second Coming but Judgment Day was long overdue. Metcalf feared for his wavering flock. The influence of the Fallen Lands crept ever closer to his refuge and to all the far-flung communities under his care. A stray television broadcast, a radio transmission, the internet. Their messages raised troublesome questions in the minds of his followers. No matter how tightly he restricted their access to the outside world, he could feel them slipping away. God would hold him accountable for this and if he failed his punishment would be eternal damnation. The humiliation of such a fate horrified him. God would cast him into the sulfurous pit along with the Fallen that he so despised. He could never allow that to happen.

The prophecy had shown him a way out of his dilemma. God had spoken directly to him through the foretelling of a long-dead Diviner. It was not his lot to wait patiently for the day when the Fallen would be banished to hell. He was to bring the heavenly kingdom to earth by whatever means necessary. That was what the Lord’s sacred warriors had always done.

God was watching him and Abraham would not disappoint his Master. He would distinguish himself more than any Diviner before him.
 
His reward would be greater. His celestial rank would be higher. His name would be praised before angels and men alike. This was not pride on his part. It was God’s will.

The day was coming soon when the Blessed Nephilim would redeem the world from the Fallen who now overran it. Men had forgotten how to fear the Lord. It would be Abraham’s destiny to remind them. Metcalf carefully returned his treasures to their compartments. “In hoc signo vinces,” he whispered, shutting the safe door behind him.

Chapter 13
– Destiny’s Child

Ever since Cassie floored the gas pedal to get away from that crazy old woman, her world had been spinning out of control. Everything she thought she knew about Sybil had been blown apart.

She could dismiss it all by saying that Faye had lied to her. That Sybil was a fine, upstanding citizen who bought and sold antiques. That she lived an absolutely ordinary life and never engaged in anything remotely risky. But too much had occurred in the past weeks to make Cassie believe that any more.

Not just what had happened to Sybil but what had happened to Cassie herself. The nightmare that accurately predicted her sister’s death. The stone ruler that was stolen right before her eyes. Sybil’s last letter to her. Everything Faye had told her. If that weren’t enough, there was her encounter with the woman in white and her magic bowl.

She didn’t know what any of it meant. She needed time to let it all sort itself out in her head. Let the dust settle and see where it landed. Where she landed. Today she was going to do something a normal person might do.

The bell above the shop door jingled discretely when she walked into the antique store. At first, the memories of her last two visits hit her like a wave. A man with a gun, her sister falling, glass shattering, police swarming. She took a deep breath and put on a brave smile. “Hi Rhonda, how are you?”

“Oh, sweetie, come here.” Her sister’s business partner rushed forward to embrace her. She was a motherly sort. Full-figured. In her fifties, with cropped black hair that was streaked with grey. She had a gentle, sympathetic face. The kind that encouraged confidences. At the moment, the expression on Rhonda’s face made Cassie feel like she was going to cry again. The girl sternly ordered herself to think about newspapers, postage stamps, anything mundane. No more feelings for now.

She stepped away from the older woman. “I’m OK, Rhonda, don’t worry about me.”

The concerned look didn’t go away. “Are you sure?” Rhonda peered at her closely. “You look like you haven’t slept for a week.”

Cassie grinned sheepishly. “That would be about right, but really I feel OK.” She changed the topic. “How have you been?”

Rhonda’s eyes swept the shop. “Coping. It took a while to clean up the mess the police left. I think they’re done hovering and asking questions. They seem satisfied that it was attempted robbery and that Sybil’s death was an accident. I’ve beefed up the security system and that’s about all I can do.”

“Do you think they’ll ever catch the guy?” Cassie asked bleakly.

Rhonda sighed. “They didn’t have much to go on. No physical description. No eyewitnesses. I’m not too hopeful.” She put her arm around Cassie’s shoulders. “Come on over here and sit down.” She led the girl to a spare chair behind the counter. “We haven’t had a chance to talk since …” she trailed off.

“Yeah, I know,” Cassie said quietly.

“Would you like a bottle of water or something?”

“A can of pop if you’ve got any.”

“Sure thing.” Rhonda bustled to the refrigerator in the back room.

Cassie looked around the shop. The glass case had been replaced. No sign of anything being shattered. Anything other than her own psyche. Everything was exactly as it should be in this upscale antique shop located in this high-toned boutique shopping district.

Rhonda handed Cassie her soft drink and pulled up a chair beside her.

“How’s business?” Cassie flipped the tab on the can. It made a hissing sound.

Rhonda laughed ruefully. “A little slow, as you can guess. None of the usual customers wanted to appear morbidly curious so everybody stayed away for a while. Now things are getting back to normal.” She focused her attention on the girl. “Seriously, Cass, what are you going to do now? I know your sister would want you to stay in school.”

“I know she would too.” Cassie sighed. “It’s not that easy. I feel like I’ve just been sucked down into some kind of whirlpool. I can’t get a grip on anything. I don’t even know which end is up right now. I think I need some time to get my bearings.”

Rhonda patted her knee. “Of course, of course. That makes sense.” She paused as a thought occurred to her. “You know that you’re my partner in the business now.”

Cassie felt startled. She hadn’t stopped to think about her sister’s will. Everything had been left to her. Between stocks and bank accounts, it had turned out to be a considerable amount of money. Enough to let her skate awhile without having to get a job or make any major life decisions. She’d forgotten about the joint ownership of the store.

“Do I owe you any money?” she asked warily.

Rhonda laughed. “Hardly. Your sister paid cash to buy her share.”

Cassie took a sip of cola, considering the matter. “I don’t think I want to keep her interest in the store. Too many bad memories.”

The older woman nodded. “I understand. If you want me to buy back your share, I can do it. But it will have to be on the installment plan.”

“We can work out the details some other day when my brain is actually… you know… functioning.” Cassie finished off the rest of her soda.

The door bell jingled again when a customer walked in. Rhonda smiled a greeting. Returning her attention to her visitor, she asked, “Are you going to stay in your dorm for a while?”

Cassie put her soda on the counter and slumped back in her chair. “No, I actually made a decision about that. For now, I’m going to move into Sybil’s place. Take a few months and then decide if I want to go back to school in the fall.”

“I suppose you need to take a timeout.” Rhonda’s voice sounded concerned but she made no other comment.

Changing the topic abruptly, Cassie asked, “How did you know you wanted to be an antique dealer?”

“How did I what?” Rhonda wasn’t prepared for the shift.

“I mean were you always sure that’s what you wanted to be?”

“Oh, I see.” Rhonda smiled knowingly. “I guess you must be feeling a little lost about where you’re headed.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I guess it was just destiny.”

“What?” Cassie sat bolt upright in her chair. There was that word again.

Rhonda registered surprise at the girl’s reaction. “Everybody has a destiny, Cass.”

“I don’t,” the girl said dismissively. “I don’t even have a major yet.”

“Sure you do. You just don’t know what it is. The destiny, I mean.”

“So how did you know?” Cassie urged.

Rhonda turned away for a moment to see what her prospective customer was up to. The woman was circling a Chippendale armchair. The shopkeeper turned her attention back to the conversation. “I had a summer job all through college in an antique store. I discovered that I liked it and after I graduated, the owner asked me to stay on full-time.”

“Seems to me more like you fell into the business by chance and just stayed,” Cassie observed.

“I guess it must sound that way but the arrangement always suited me just fine. I suppose if I’d been unhappy I would have tried something else, but I never wanted to. That’s why I said it was destiny.”

“Huh?” The girl wasn’t following.

“I think it’s like paddling a canoe,” Rhonda explained. “If you’re traveling with the current, it all feels easy and fun and that’s what following your destiny is like. If you decide to fight your destiny, it’s like trying to paddle upstream against the current, which is going to make you miserable.”

Cassie felt exasperated. Rhonda was no help at all. “So you think God decided ahead of time that you were supposed to own a store and you decided it was easier to go with the flow than to fight it? Is that what you’re telling me?”

The older woman shook her head. “I never said God had anything to do with it. Destiny isn’t something unappealing forced on you by somebody else. It isn’t brussels sprouts. It’s a combination of your own interest and aptitude. It just so happens I love what I do and I’m very, very good at it.”

The girl persisted. “But how did you know when you first started out that you were headed in the right direction?”

The customer was walking toward the counter with a Spode teapot. Rhonda got out of her chair to assist her. “In a nutshell, it’s because it felt right.”

“So you trusted your instincts?” Cassie asked cautiously.

Rhonda nodded. “Yes, that’s a good way to put it. I trusted my instincts.” She went to the cash register to ring up the sale.

“Hmmm…” Cassie said to herself.