The Museum Raider - Part 2

Part 1

Smuggling a sacred relic back to it’s rightful home was surprisingly easy, if you didn’t count the inevitable racial profiling.

The relic wanted to go home, and had enough residual magic to convince the people doing the scanning and ‘random’ inspections that there was nothing out of the ordinary. If the item in question was wrapped in a towel and stuffed in the corner of a carry-on, anyone who asked rarely even needed convincing that it was a tourist knock-off. After all, who would try to smuggle a priceless artefact worth millions on the black market in a towel in a carry-on, without so much as protective bubble-wrap?

Breakage was a concern, but most relics needed to be deliberately broken by mortal hands, or had enough latent power to keep themselves intact, no matter what. In-air turbulence was like a butterfly trying to knock down a mountain by flapping it’s wings.

Once the plane landed, it was a night in the cheapest hotel they could find, usually the airport motel, and continue on to meet up with the traditional owners the next day.

Rolling out of bed, Addy stretched, relaxing as something in her back went pop. Jaci cringed reflexively, making Addy smirk. “I swear, these beds get less comfortable with each trip.”

Addy couldn’t disagree, a pear tree scratching against the window had kept her awake half the night. “Well, airport hotels are usually for those who can’t get anywhere else, or people who have an early flight. Maybe they’re designed to make it impossible to go back to sleep after your alarm goes off.”

Jaci grumbled unhappily, barely awake and in no mood to be placated, and staggered toward the bathroom. Addy started to dress, mentally going over their next move. The traditional owners who had requested her services were also partially in charge of the temple site, and had organised for it to be closed for the day, claiming a holy day and much-needed structural repairs.

That this ironically happened to be the same day that a foreign leader’s family was supposed to be in the area, after they had made noises about ‘honouring the natives’ with their presence by forcing them to close off their main source of income as a security measure.

Addy could practically hear the tantrums when the family showed up and were denied entry because the traditional owners felt that their own religious requirements were a bigger priority than the convenience of some foreigner, no matter how powerful. Besides, if said foreigners couldn’t be bothered to stop insulting other countries long enough to check a calendar, that was hardly the traditional owners’ fault..

Besides, given some of the things that particular first family had said about the country as a whole and the native population in particular, spread over the world via social media, Addy thought that they shouldn’t be surprised. In fact, the tribe probably would have claimed a religious holy day even if they hadn’t needed secrecy and a lack of cameras for Addy to come and return the artefact.

Jaci emerged from the bathroom, dressed for hiking and slightly more alert. “I looked up the time-tables. We can catch a bus most of the way, and hike the rest.”

Addy smiled fondly, neglecting to point out that Jaci’s hair was doing an excellent impersonation of a rat’s nest. “Good to be going home, after all this time?”

The community in question wasn’t Jaci’s home - the village her family had lived in for generations had been destroyed shortly after Jaci was born and had been located several hundred miles to the west - but they were trying to get there without anyone connecting them to the theft. Addy didn’t know if the security forces here were as hyper-vigilant in regards to people of colour as the ones back home, but there was no need to do anything that would raise suspicion in the first place.

Addy and Jaci gritted their teeth through a bus-ride filled with people running on the combined high of spring break, enough wealth to travel internationally, and the sense of entitlement that came with it. After the third time shooting down a frat boy who thought that Addy’s dark skin made her a local, and therefore the stereotypical Carnivale girl up for a tumble (ignoring the fact that Carnivale took place in a different country), and the seventh time someone similar to the frat boy assumed that she and Jaci being in a relationship meant that they would welcome a complete stranger as a third participant, both women were on edge and feeling more than ready to stab the next person who bothered them. Another youth, barely a year or two into collage, leaned over his seat toward them. “So, you babes into the Carnivale spirit? I got all the party you need.”

Jaci scoffed and ignored him. Addy fixed her most terrifying glare on the boy, who flinched back and instantly tried to pretend that he hadn’t. “Go away, boy.”

His face twisted in anger, and Addy quickly took stock of her surroundings. Most of the passengers nearby were just as fed up, but unwilling to draw attention. A group of women across the way shot her reassuring looks. They would step in, if it came to a struggle.

The youth regained his bravado. “There’s no need to be such a bitch; just call it cultural differences, if you’re too frigid to be up for some fun.”

Fortunately for his wellbeing, and for Addy’s swiftly-eroding restraint, the bus reached their stop, and Addy could work out her anger on the hike.

And if swinging her backpack over her shoulder managed to hit certain parties upside the head, that was hardly her fault.

The village was small and simplistic, the buildings showing signs of being hastily built in the wake of a disaster, repaired over and over as needed, but without the money or materials to ever rebuild properly. They drew little notice, walking up the the (comparatively) largest building, where they were met by a small group of adults. Addy recognised one as the community’s leader, having talked to him over Skype when he commissioned her for this particular job. They had not exchanged names - it was safer that way, in case of discovery - and Addy knew him only as ‘the Elder’. He was reserved, but pleased to see them. “Welcome, and thank you for the assistance you have already rendered.”

Jaci replied for both of them. “It is our very great pleasure to be here. I hope that closing off the area for the day hasn’t caused any undue problems?”

The Elder’s teeth flashed white against his darker skin, bared in a wicked grin. “Not for us. Such a disappointment for certain parties, to have put up with our ‘third-world shithole’ of a nation, only to miss out on the one reason they were willing to visit in the first place.”

Addy smirked back. “Perhaps their time would have been better spent assisting our cousins who were recently afflicted by natural disasters. You may recieve some backlash.”

He shrugged. “As we will tell any who ask, better caution than for a foreign leader to be injured on our soil. Believe me, even before the temple fell to ruin, the Ancient One would not have considered him worthy to enter.”

It was never wise to draw the attention of Gods or Spirits by naming them directly, but Addy had very little trouble believing that whatever inhabited the temple would violently disapprove of ‘The Most High Tangerine’, as some of his non-supporters called him. There was something that concerned her, however. “I know that different peoples have different standards of what it means to be worthy. I know that there are dangers, but will the temple permit me to enter?”

The Elder nodded, “You are returning one of our most sacred and valuable treasures. Even if you were entering for selfish reasons, I believe that the Ancient One would be inclined to overlook any minor moral flaws.”

That was a relief. Desecrated holy places were dangerous enough, without courting extra trouble. “Thank you. Can you tell me anything about what I will face?”

He shrugged again. “The standard traps; spikes and darts triggered by movement, disappearing floor… those wretched movies did get some things right. We will teach you what to look for, and how to pass them safely. Your true challenge will be the corrupted ones.”

Jaci raised an eyebrow. “Who are - or rather, who were - they?”

The Elder’s face darkened with inter-generational anger. “The priests who were bribed and allowed the raiders into the temple, knowing what they had planned, and the ones who abandoned their duty and surrendered before them.”

Addy had come across similar instances before. Sacred oaths were not something to be lightly broken. “I will keep my eyes open. Let’s get started.”

Read the next chapter here...