Jun scowled as he surveyed the peaceful green park dotted with mass graves. “Considering Cassie’s unfortunate reaction to the oracle pit, perhaps we shouldn’t attempt to walk through the grounds any further.”
“Too much death here,” Rou agreed.
“You don’t need to twist my arm,” the pythia said. “I’ve felt enough for one day.”
They rose and ambled back toward their car.
“I don’t imagine this tour has brought us any closer to our Minoan friends,” Griffin hinted.
Cassie paused, silently assessing something. “You know, it’s funny. When we arrived in Lanzhou, I could hear a little voice in my head saying, ‘You’re getting warmer.’ Now that we’re here in Anyang, I feel as if we’ve overshot the mark.”
“I’m sorry,” Jun sounded deeply apologetic. “These are the major sites along the Yellow River. I can’t think of any other places to show you.”
“Just show me a map of China,” the pythia suggested. “I think I’ve spent enough time absorbing the river vibe that I can finally figure out the right spot on my own.”
Chapter 19—Getting Warmer
Cassie stared moodily out the window of her Anyang hotel room at the lights of the city. She’d just returned from dinner with the group and was vainly trying to clear her head after the events of the day. Being buried alive was proving to be a persistently memorable experience. A gentle tap on the door interrupted her thoughts. She eyed the digital clock on the nightstand. It was 8 PM. With a weary groan, she answered the summons.
“May I come in?” Griffin asked.
She nodded and motioned him inside.
The scrivener carried his notebook computer under one arm. “I thought this might help.”
Cassie glanced behind him after he entered. “Where are the Zhangs?”
He set up his PC on the table. “I convinced them that it might be better if you and I worked on our geographic problem alone.”
“Good idea.” Cassie pulled out one of the chairs and sat down next to him. “I’d prefer to do this techno-dowsing experiment without an audience. I hate the idea of letting them down again.”
“They do seem to be taking our lack of progress quite personally,” Griffin agreed. He waited for the computer to establish a WiFi connection.
“I wish I could convince them that it’s not their fault.” The pythia sighed.
The scrivener typed a few keystrokes, and a map of China popped up on his screen. He zeroed in on the northern section of the country. “This is where we are.” He pointed to Anyang in Henan Province.
Cassie tapped her chin, considering. “Could you pan out a little?”
Griffin expanded the view to include the surrounding area.
The pythia scowled in concentration. “Show me the entire river.”
Griffin typed in a new search criterion, and a map of the whole country appeared with two blue lines running parallel to one another on their way to the Pacific Ocean.
Cassie traced her finger along the course of the Yellow River from its headwaters in the Himalayas to its mouth at the Bohai Sea. She repeated the gesture, this time stopping at Lanzhou. “This is where we started to go off-course,” she murmured half to herself. “It was the last place where I felt we were getting warmer. Now that we’re in Anyang, the trail’s gone completely cold.” Her finger meandered down the page and hovered at a spot near the city of Chengdu. “What’s here?” she asked.
“Not the Yellow River, I can assure you. That’s the Yangtze.”
“Hmmm.” Cassie’s index finger moved to the left of the spot she’d been pointing to. “Can you magnify this area instead?”
“Certainly.”
The screen displayed the more southerly of China’s two great rivers.
The pythia once more started tracing the river’s route from its headwaters in the Himalayas very close to where the Yellow River began. The Yangtze, however, traveled directly south for half its length before veering sharply eastward and emptying into the ocean at Shanghai. Cassie’s finger paused over the bend. “Zoom in here,” she ordered.
Griffin silently complied.
The pythia pointed to a dot indicating the town of Lijiang. It appeared to be directly south of Lanzhou by about seven hundred miles. “I’m feeling a strong pull around this town. I’m pretty sure this is the way the Minoans went.”
“I can’t imagine why.” Griffin’s tone was perplexed. “The region’s only distinguishing characteristic is that the Yangtze River makes a ninety degree turn and travels east near Lijiang.”
The pythia stifled a yawn. “I’m not up to digging any farther into the town’s lore tonight. Why don’t we tell Jun about my hunch in the morning? He might be able to give us a quick rundown and save us hours of online searching.”
Griffin studied her face intently. “You’re utterly knackered, aren’t you?”
“I guess so if knackered means I feel like I’ve been crunched in a carpet roller.” She gave him a wan smile. “Being buried alive can sure take it out of a person.”
His expression grew somber. “It was thoughtless of me to bother you with this nonsense right now. Sadly, not the first mistake I’ve made today.” He rose and hurriedly packed up his computer.
Cassie followed him to the door. “Meet you in the dining room for breakfast?”
“What?” Lost in thought, Griffin seemed not to have heard her.
She repeated her question.
“Oh, yes. Absolutely. Eight sharp.” He faltered, his hand hovering over the doorknob. Turning abruptly, he said, “Look. I’d like to apologize for my absurd conduct this afternoon.” He was blushing to the roots of his hair.
Cassie stared at him through a fog of exhaustion. “What are you talking about?”
He opened his mouth several times, but no sound emerged.
The irony of Griffin being at a loss for words struck Cassie as funny until she realized the reason for his embarrassment. “Oh, that,” she said in a small voice.
The scrivener’s eyes darted toward the floor. “I’m afraid I behaved quite stupidly.”
“No, you didn’t,” she protested gently. “You behaved like somebody who was worried about his friend.”
He searched her eyes. “You really think so?”
She reached up to touch his
