The Devil's Triangle (A Brit in the FBI 4)

She heard her crews’ excited voices and the deepening roar of the approaching storm. Then all eyes turned to her as she waved away the crowbar Thomas held out to her. She lightly laid her palm on the lid. And it came up with barely a sound, only a slight crack of the wood. The buzzing was growing louder, nearly a high whine now. She smoothed her hands over the rest of the wood and it simply fell away. She knew all her crew believed the wood was rotted, and simply touching was all that was necessary. But the wood wasn’t rotted at all. Helen saw gold flash in the sunlight and her heart nearly stopped beating.

Two golden cherubim, wings outstretched, hovered protectively over the top of the Ark, almost as if they were crying. She reached out her hand to touch them, perhaps to comfort them, to let them know she was here.

“I’ve found you at last,” she whispered. “You’re with me as it was meant to be.”

Thomas whispered at her elbow, “It’s beautiful.”

The crew broke into spontaneous applause, calling and cheering. “You’ve done it, madam. You’ve found the Ark!”

Helen held up a hand for silence. She shouldn’t do this here, she shouldn’t do this now, not in front of these people who shouldn’t even be seeing this blessed gift God had preserved for millennia, but the Ark was calling her from deep inside, low, vibrant, insistent. Helen, Helen. Helen.

Thomas leaned forward to help her, but she waved him back. He believed the lid was heavy? She smiled as she laid her hand on it, felt it pulse, felt it breathe. She pushed at the lid with her finger. It slid off as if she’d struck it, and crashed to the sands. A piece of a cherubim’s wing broke off.

She’d heard their surprise when she’d lifted the lid so easily, heard their gasps when the cherubim’s wing broke off. She saw fear in their eyes, of some possible biblical curse? Of her? Thomas bent down to pick up the wing.

“No! Don’t touch it, Thomas.”

He straightened slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. Her friend for many years, her occasional lover, Thomas Zahn, brilliant, dedicated, had always been at her side. He’d been her confidant and she saw he was upset because s

he was shutting him out.

She raised her hand. “No, don’t worry. The lid flew off because gases had built up, nothing more.” A lie, but how were they to know? “We’ll repair the wing. It’s okay.” Some of them looked away from her. The others, did they believe her? It didn’t matter.

She knelt in front of the box and looked inside. The Ark sat on the golden shell. It was small, smaller than she’d believed it would be, even though she’d long ago memorized the biblical measures.

She saw the lid closed with strings of rope. With a finger, she traced the old ropes and they sprung free at her touch. The lid of the Ark lifted, and a glow as bright as the desert sun wreathed her face. Its warmth was like a soft caress against her flesh. It grew more intense, a burning bright light, but she didn’t have to close her eyes against it, no, she leaned closer, breathed it in, thousands of years of an ancient life force, flowing into her. She bathed in it, let it fill her, let it settle.

A voice filled her, neither male nor female, human or beast, it was a thousand voices at once, but only one, and it reverberated like echoes of chimes through her entire body.

Helen Kohath. Your family was chosen at the beginning, the blessed ones, the only ones to guard me, but still I was lost. You found me and now you must protect me, keep me safe. Not your children, for they would use my power against the earth. No one but you can ever see me. Only you are worthy to guard me.

Take me away where none will find me. Those here cannot be allowed to tell the world of my existence. Do it.

She closed her eyes, the words flowing through her, and she said with no hesitation, “Like the Kohaths before me, I was ordained to watch over you and I will, I swear it.”

“Helen? Helen!” Thomas was shouting in her ear, pulling on her arm.

The thousand-single-voice commanded, Do it, Helen. Do it now. The voice stilled, the brilliant light faded, the lid slapped shut. She was suddenly back in the Gobi Desert, facing her crew, all of them gaping at her, fear and awe on their faces. And Thomas, dear Thomas, now a stranger to her.

She rose, and brushed the sand off her pants. She was Helen Kohath, the leader of this group. “Thomas, load the Ark on the truck. Fashion a new crate for it, this old wood is rotted through. Find the piece of wing, it slipped into the pit. Good job, everyone.” She paused only an instant, before smiling at them all. “Thank you for all your hard work, the world will be at our feet when we return.” She looked over Thomas’s shoulder. “We must hurry. We have less than two hours before the sandstorm is on us.”

Her voice sounded entirely normal, slightly excited, appropriate to the situation. Thomas continued studying her face. “What was inside the Ark, Helen?”

She smiled. “A great sweetness, Thomas, a great welcoming. Don’t let anyone try to open it again. Let’s get it packed up and on the truck before the storm hits.”

She stepped away, watched her crew follow her orders, everyone excited, moving quickly.

It took less than an hour to pack the Ark into a newly built crate and get it into the bed of the truck. She memorized all their faces, she never wanted to forget them and knew she wouldn’t. They would become part of her.

Thomas brought her the wing fragment. She held it in her arms and saw the small lettering along the edge, and read the warning.

Through this door lies a weapon of great power. Open it, and it will indeed kill.

She looked at Thomas’s dear face, at all their faces, so happy, so excited, some of them staring at her, obviously worried, filled with questions, and she simply knew she couldn’t do it, she couldn’t kill these people whose lives were so close entwined with hers, even with the voice telling her to, commanding her to, even with the knowledge that one word from any of them and the precious Ark could once again be in danger, and lost for millennia yet again.

Still, she couldn’t do it.

She stood silently. The babble of voices grew louder in her head, so many, yet only one, and it was neither male nor female, and it was so very calm, mesmerizing and reassuring, saying words, strange words she didn’t understand, over and over, but not to her. No, these words were not meant for her.