Sacred Ground. Alex Archer

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СКАЧАТЬ “Yeah, he’s all right. Pretty fair, that sort of thing. It’s not my dream job, of course, but it gives me the money to save and put away for when I figure out what I really want to do with my life.”

      “How old are you?”

      “Twenty-eight.” He shrugged. “I know. I ought to have a game plan by now, right?”

      Annja smiled. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

      He waved his hand. “I’ve heard so much advice from people urging me to find my way and find it fast. But I guess I’m just not in that big a hurry. I know there’s something out there for me, but I haven’t really felt a pull toward anything. Weird, right?”

      “Well, at least you’re working.” Annja shrugged. “That’s better than what a lot of people in your situation would do.”

      “Seemed like a good fit,” Godwin said. “The company, I mean. And I was intrigued with the idea of going home to my birthplace, so to speak, after being away from it for so long.”

      “I’ll bet,” Annja said. “I’m still trying to figure out where it is that I come from. I can appreciate the sentiment.”

      Godwin smiled. “Lost lambs, huh?”

      “Something like that.” Annja stared through the windshield, remembering as much as she could about her own childhood. She knew what it felt like not to have that sense of belonging, or some place to call your own. To be able to point at something, even in your mind, and call it home, was a feeling she’d never enjoyed as a child.

      Maybe even to this day, she thought. After all, her place in Brooklyn seemed at times to be pretty much a flop pad and nothing else. It was as much its own version of Erop as Annja ducked quickly in and out between digs and trips to other parts of the world.

      She wondered if her job as an archaeologist had been predetermined by the fact that she was an orphan and had never known what it was to have a real past. Maybe that’s why she spent so much of her own time digging into other people’s pasts. Her quest to uncover the truth about ancient civilizations and people was really a mirror of her quest to find out about herself.

      And inheriting the sword certainly hadn’t helped matters, either. Where once she might have thought it would help to illuminate her past, it now seemed only to further blur it under the fog of uncertainty.

      Some day, she thought to herself, I’ll figure this all out.

      Godwin steered the truck down a smaller road, little better than what they’d driven on to Erop. Annja groaned. “So much for civilization.”

      “We won’t be long on this,” he said as he drove around a tree stump jutting out of the road. “The dig site is relatively close.”

      “What’s relative?”

      “Twenty minutes, no more.”

      Annja nodded. Derek was bounced out of his sleep by a sudden dip in the road that caused him to go airborne for a fraction of a second. He sat up and rubbed the top of his head. “Guess we’re almost there, huh?”

      “Twenty minutes,” Annja said. She glanced at Godwin. “No more.”

      Derek leaned forward with a yawn. “Did you sleep?”

      Annja looked at him. “Didn’t seem fair to leave Godwin here the only one awake. I know what it’s like to drive for a long time with no rest.”

      “Well, you’ll need your rest if you’re going to impress the Araktak elders as being suitable for their cause.”

      “Excuse me?”

      Derek smiled. “Think of it as a job interview and you’ll be fine.”

      “What are you talking about?”

      Derek leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “They wouldn’t accept just anyone for this assignment, you know. They said they would have final say over whomever showed up. I guess they’re not particularly crazy about letting an outsider help them relocate their sacred lands.”

      “Nice to hear about this now, when it’s impossible to turn back.”

      “Wouldn’t have done any good to tell you about it before now,” Derek said. “The Araktak elders are a notoriously picky bunch. But then I guess that’s been a function of their society for some time now, eh, Godwin?”

      He shrugged. “This is something of a homecoming for me, as well.”

      “I thought you mentioned you’d been up here before this, to make way for the company’s plans,” Annja said.

      Godwin nodded. “I was here. But I dealt with a representative for the elders. This time, they’re all going to be here. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have a smoke lodge all set up and everything.”

      Annja looked out of the window. She wasn’t used to having people question her credentials and qualifications. She was usually begged to come in and frankly she preferred it that way. The interview with Derek had been the first real one she’d been on in a long time.

      She wondered why she’d even agreed to this. It wasn’t as though this was routine for her. She was taking a leave of absence from her job to handle this. She frowned. Maybe I’m just worried about yet another race of people losing everything they hold dear.

      Or maybe it was the sword exerting some unnatural control over her and her decision-making.

      Was she here because the sword was demanding she be here?

      Annja sighed. “Well, I hope they’re not too disappointed.” She glanced at Godwin. “How are women treated in the Araktak?”

      “Probably the way they are in any other tribe of Inuit.” He shook his head. “But I’d be lying if I said I know for certain. My own mother was a white woman, so I can’t ever be sure if the way she raised me was the way it works up here.”

      “Or if they’re considered second-class citizens,” Annja said.

      “We’re here,” Derek said.

      Annja stared out of the windshield. The forest suddenly broke away on either side into a clearing. She could see several rough-hewn huts that looked like a combination of log cabin and wigwam. They were large and sturdy and a great number of pine trees had been felled to make the lodges. Smoke issued from small chimneys at each corner. At least it looks warm inside, Annja thought.

      Godwin brought the SUV to a halt and then looked at Annja. “I’m still figuring this out for myself as I go. You aren’t alone,” he said.

      Derek slid out of the truck and walked over to an older man with a weather-beaten face. Annja could see a hundred years’ worth of hard living etched across the narrow slits of his eyes. He nodded to Derek and then took him aside to speak in low tones.

      Annja glanced at Godwin. “He seems comfortable enough.”

      Godwin nodded. “That’s our main contact. His name is Wishman.”

      “Is he cool?”

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