Hunt gave a deep sigh of satisfaction. “Sure enough, a good drink sets a bad day right.” He resumed his appraisal of the scion. “Just look at you—tossed out your funeral suit and got you some glad rags. In that white shirt and jeans, you could almost pass for normal. And now on top of that, sittin’ in a bar and drinkin’ like a person. Ain’t no doubt about it. You gone native, boy.” The cowboy shook his head in amazement. “It beats all I ever seen. I wonder what your daddy would think.”
“He’d die of shock,” Daniel replied caustically. “That is if someone were so unwise as to tell him. Of course, that someone might risk losing a lucrative source of income if he carried the tale back home.”
Hunt blinked once at Daniel’s veiled threat before he burst out laughing. Then he slapped the scion on the back.
Daniel winced at the force of the blow.
“Brother Dan’l, you’re alright. You ain’t the sad sack you was when we started chasin’ doodads together.”
“I suppose not,” Daniel conceded. “People can change.”
“Yeah, but in my experience, it generally ain’t for the better,” Hunt retorted. “Still and all, I got high hopes for you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hunt,” Daniel replied dryly. “Your faith in me is touching.” He took another sip of ale.
The cowboy downed his shot and ordered a second. Turning his attention to business, he asked, “So what you got in mind to do next? Not that I didn’t enjoy all them statues of naked ladies we seen today but that ain’t why we made the trip.”
“It was something of a long shot to think the relic might be hidden in the Elephanta caves,” Daniel admitted. “I believe we’ll have better luck tomorrow. Our destination is an archaeological site in Gujarat.”
“Archaeological site, huh?” Hunt’s tone was wary. “That means miles of sand and nothin’ much else.”
“Most probably,” the scion agreed.
Hunt downed his second shot in one gulp. “Then I best drink my fill today because the next waterin’ hole is a long ride through a dust storm in the middle of nowhere.”
Chapter 42—Divinest Sense
Abraham paced the oriental carpet in his prayer closet, hands clasped behind his back. Periodically, he would steal a glance at the pale woman seated in one of the hard-bottomed chairs under his ancestor’s portrait. At the moment, she was rocking back and forth in her seat, oblivious to his presence, carrying on a whispered conversation with herself. Her behavior utterly flummoxed him. When the diviner had given Daniel a promise to counsel Annabeth, he had no idea what an arduous task that would prove to be. His son’s departure for India had accelerated her decline to such a degree that her previously sporadic sleepwalking episodes were now a nightly occurrence. Long after midnight, her repeated cries of “Abel, where are you?” awoke the entire community. Invariably, one of her sister-wives was forced to get out of bed and lead her back to her own room. An hour or two later, she would be wandering about again.
The diviner knew he had to take some action to check her conduct, but he also knew that he must proceed with caution. Daniel had been right to warn him of the woman’s precarious emotional state. Abraham concluded that a quiet chat in his prayer closet, away from the eyes and ears of everyone else, might be the least intimidating approach.
He walked softly back to the table and seated himself in the chair opposite hers. Settling in, he gave his visitor an encouraging smile. He needn’t have bothered. Her eyes were shut tight while her mouth continued to mutter gibberish.
“Annabeth?” He began in a quiet tone. When she gave no sign that she’d heard him, his voice grew more insistent. “Annabeth!” Still no response. Finally, he shook her by the shoulder. “Annabeth, look at me!” he demanded.
That did the trick. Her eyes flew open in surprise. She glanced wildly around the room as if she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten there. When her attention finally focused on the diviner, she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
Abraham forced an unconvincing grimace of sympathy. “There, that’s better.”
She merely gawked at him.
“How are you feeling today?”
She passed her hand across her eyes. “I’m a little tired.”
“I imagine so,” he agreed. “You’ve been walking around all night long.”
“No. No, I haven’t.” She sounded surprised at the allegation.
“Listen to me, Annabeth.” He fastened his eyes on her face, compelling her to pay attention. “You’ve been sleepwalking. Wandering the corridors at all hours, disturbing the rest of the community.”
“Have I?” She shot him a doubtful glance. “Maybe. But it’s just that my son Abel is missing, you see. And I have to find him. He’s been stolen away, and I don’t know where to look next.”
Abraham realized that the situation was even graver than he’d supposed. She had originally told Daniel of a recurring dream that her son was missing. Now, she seemed convinced that an abduction had actually taken place. She could no longer distinguish between illusion and reality.
“Your son hasn’t been stolen away,” the diviner explained calmly. “The Lord has seen fit to take him back to heaven. He’s dead, Annabeth.”
She caught her breath sharply. “That’s a lie.”
Abraham stared at her in disbelief. Nobody, least of all a woman, had ever flatly contradicted the word of a diviner. He tried again. “I assure you, I am not lying. Your son is dead.”
Annabeth shook her head. “No, no, no! The angel told me I would find my boy soon. She said—”
“She!” Abraham pounced on the word. “There are no female angels. What an absurd notion!” He caught himself. Keeping his temper was going to prove difficult in the face of her obstinacy.
“There are SO female angels.” Daniel’s wife gave a secret smile. “I know it was a she because I saw her as plain as I’m seeing you now. She said she was my guardian angel and had been looking after
