Free Secrets Of The Serpent's Heart (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 6) by N. S. Wikarski Page B
Authors: N. S. Wikarski
correct her behavior. It seemed natural, unlike the masks worn by the adult members of the congregation. They might have been so many stone pillars, listening through deaf ears to his father’s fevered exhortations. In a highly improper gesture by the standards of the Nephilim, Daniel put his arm around Sarah’s shoulders and let her nestle against him. She closed her eyes and seemed to drop off to sleep. His other wives reported she was no longer crying in the middle of the night or waking them up calling for her mother. Daniel realized that while his other spouses tolerated her presence, they felt no urge to care for Sarah as her biological mother might have done. They had daughters of their own to consider. The Scion felt remorse that he wasn’t spending more time with the girl. Yes, he would make a point of doing that. He needed her to know that she hadn’t been entirely abandoned.
The Diviner fulminated for another ten minutes. It was nothing Daniel hadn’t heard before so he allowed his attention to drift to more immediate concerns. He knew he’d have to produce tangible results in the quest for the next artifact soon or face his father’s wrath. Ostensibly, he still spent his days at the library researching the subject. In actuality, he’d spent the past four months accumulating a storehouse of knowledge about the outer world. Chris called him an information sponge because he absorbed it all so quickly. If there was one bright spot in Daniel’s life, it was the hours he spent surrounded by books in the company of his beloved friend. He sighed inwardly at the realization that this pleasant interlude would soon come to an end.
The Scion knew he must apply himself to the next riddle but balked at the prospect. Somehow, he had formed a mental association between Annabeth’s death and the relic hunt. She might still be alive if he hadn’t left to blindly follow his father’s orders. Who knew if his next absence might not result in a worse catastrophe than a dead wife? He realized the notion was irrational but the two events had become fused in his psyche and, try as he might, he couldn’t separate them. The association had drained his enthusiasm for solving the next riddle.
He snapped to attention when he realized his father had finally finished speaking. People were standing up and filing out of the chapel. He woke Sarah and set her on her feet. Taking her by the hand, he led her through the gauntlet of congregation members who waited to offer them both condolences. She behaved patiently enough during the ordeal until the crowd dispersed. His other wives came up last of all with their daughters to claim Sarah.
He bent down and told her, “I’ll come by to see you later this afternoon. Alright?”
She nodded without a murmur, looking back over her shoulder at him as she was led away by the rest of his small family.
He stood and straightened his coat, preparing to go back to the study room. As he turned, he realized a man blocked his path. It was his brother Joshua.
***
“Oh, it’s you,” Daniel observed without enthusiasm.
The spymaster barely noticed his brother’s less than warm greeting. Joshua was too irritated by the inordinate fuss their father was making over Annabeth’s death to register offense at this minor slight. One dead wife was hardly worth considering when one had so many others. No doubt, Abraham had already selected a younger and prettier woman as Annabeth’s replacement—a reward which his brother scarcely deserved. Since Joshua was denied the pleasure of expressing any overt hostility toward the Scion, he settled for rubbing salt in the wound of Daniel’s grief.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” he began, his voice heavy with sympathy.
“Thank you.” Daniel nodded curtly and started walking down the corridor.
Joshua joined him. “It was quite sudden, wasn’t it?” he asked in hopes of churning up painful memories which his brother was probably doing his
The Diviner fulminated for another ten minutes. It was nothing Daniel hadn’t heard before so he allowed his attention to drift to more immediate concerns. He knew he’d have to produce tangible results in the quest for the next artifact soon or face his father’s wrath. Ostensibly, he still spent his days at the library researching the subject. In actuality, he’d spent the past four months accumulating a storehouse of knowledge about the outer world. Chris called him an information sponge because he absorbed it all so quickly. If there was one bright spot in Daniel’s life, it was the hours he spent surrounded by books in the company of his beloved friend. He sighed inwardly at the realization that this pleasant interlude would soon come to an end.
The Scion knew he must apply himself to the next riddle but balked at the prospect. Somehow, he had formed a mental association between Annabeth’s death and the relic hunt. She might still be alive if he hadn’t left to blindly follow his father’s orders. Who knew if his next absence might not result in a worse catastrophe than a dead wife? He realized the notion was irrational but the two events had become fused in his psyche and, try as he might, he couldn’t separate them. The association had drained his enthusiasm for solving the next riddle.
He snapped to attention when he realized his father had finally finished speaking. People were standing up and filing out of the chapel. He woke Sarah and set her on her feet. Taking her by the hand, he led her through the gauntlet of congregation members who waited to offer them both condolences. She behaved patiently enough during the ordeal until the crowd dispersed. His other wives came up last of all with their daughters to claim Sarah.
He bent down and told her, “I’ll come by to see you later this afternoon. Alright?”
She nodded without a murmur, looking back over her shoulder at him as she was led away by the rest of his small family.
He stood and straightened his coat, preparing to go back to the study room. As he turned, he realized a man blocked his path. It was his brother Joshua.
***
“Oh, it’s you,” Daniel observed without enthusiasm.
The spymaster barely noticed his brother’s less than warm greeting. Joshua was too irritated by the inordinate fuss their father was making over Annabeth’s death to register offense at this minor slight. One dead wife was hardly worth considering when one had so many others. No doubt, Abraham had already selected a younger and prettier woman as Annabeth’s replacement—a reward which his brother scarcely deserved. Since Joshua was denied the pleasure of expressing any overt hostility toward the Scion, he settled for rubbing salt in the wound of Daniel’s grief.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” he began, his voice heavy with sympathy.
“Thank you.” Daniel nodded curtly and started walking down the corridor.
Joshua joined him. “It was quite sudden, wasn’t it?” he asked in hopes of churning up painful memories which his brother was probably doing his