Priestess of Paracas by K. Patrick Donoghue

Author:K. Patrick Donoghue [Donoghue, K. Patrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action adventure, historical mysteries, travel adventure fiction, Thriller, Mysteries
Publisher: Leaping Leopard Enterprises, LLC
Published: 2019-12-16T22:00:00+00:00

One foot into the room, the second she laid eyes on the necklace, visions began to flash through Pebbles’ mind. They were snippets, no more than a few seconds each.

…she was floating down a river lit by torches on both sides, unseen people chanting…a woman kneeling before her in the temple, her head bowed…crawling through jungle vines to reach a hidden cave…standing at the prow of a ship as it cut through dark waters…a woman straddling her, knife poised to strike…

Pebbles gasped and staggered backward against the wall, her hands flailing to knock away the knife. Suddenly aware of her surroundings, she shot looks at Mereau and Cesar. “Holy shit!”

“You have had visions?” Garnier queried.

“A jumble of them.”

“Take the necklace,” Mereau said.

In unison, Pebbles and Garnier said, “What?”

“Non! There is to be no touching!” said Garnier.

“How else is she to put it on?” Mereau asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

More visions cycled through Pebbles’ mind.

…arms raised above her head, something heavy in her hands. Before her, hundreds of people bowing…seated around a campfire among a circle of people, listening to a man talk — a man with an elongated head…pushing her hand against a rock wall, the wall trembling…the cackle of the woman slicing her neck…

Pebbles staggered forward and braced herself against the table. Face dripping with perspiration, she listened to Mereau shouting at Garnier.

“Tell me this, monsieur. Have you been able to unclasp the necklace?”

She looked over at Garnier. The red-faced man with the pinched lips said nothing.

“Yes, it is as I thought,” Mereau said. “You have tried many ways, I expect. You and your experts. But none have worked. The magnetism is too strong, the locking mechanism beyond your or their comprehension. If nothing else, let mademoiselle unclasp it for you.”

Pebbles gazed at Mereau. “What are you talking about? I don’t know how to —”

“I will instruct you,” said the curt Mereau. “What say you, Garnier?”

Her eyes traveled back to the necklace, now within hand’s reach. Under the harsh glow of the room’s fluorescent lights, it looked pale, faded, as if someone had sucked the life out of the gold. Yet her fingers prickled from its energy.

“What if she damages it?”

“She will not. You will be shocked at the ease with which she opens it.”

As she stared at the symbols on the tiles, on came another rush of visions.

…a finger dipping in gold paint and then swirling a design on her cheek…sloshing in mud as hands ripped away her clothes…letting go of the bag in the river…her face shoved into the riverbank…clawing at the mud, desperate to breathe…

More gasping. Pebbles could taste the mud in her mouth. Through parched lips, she begged for water. Hands guided her onto a seat. A bottled water touched against her lips. She was aware now of Cesar’s voice. “Sip it slowly…don’t gulp.”

Her eyes fluttered open as she sipped. The necklace was gone from the table. She darted her head around, dribbling water down the front of her shirt. “Where is it? Where did it go?”

It was still close by, for her head still throbbed, her fingers still prickled.

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