 Trixie Belden and the Mystery of The PhoenixChapter 1: A New FriendEarly October, 1982 Sixteen-year-old Trixie Belden and her best friend, Honey Wheeler, also 16, paused on the front steps of the library after coming out of the door, several books in their arms. The sun shone brightly out of a clear blue sky with the warmth of Indian Summer. Suddenly, Trixie felt a chill run up her spine and she turned her eyes away from the sky. Walking past on the street below them was a man who drew Trixie’s eye, a stranger to the town. This man looked to be about 6'4", in his late twenties, athletic looking, wearing faded blue jeans, ratty-looking sneakers, and a faded cotton shirt under a smudged and worn denim jacket. Beneath the collar of his shirt Trixie could see a hint of a gold chain. Slung across his shoulder was a large canvas satchel on a long strap. His pale blonde hair was shaggy, hanging almost to his shoulders. He looked a little lost, as if he was searching for something. His head turned from side to side and his eyes seemed to take in everything. When he looked at Trixie, she felt a sense of bitter loneliness, and a desperate longing that wrenched at her soul. Then he looked away, searching elsewhere. Shaken by the sensation, and feeling an instinctive desire to help, Trixie ran down the steps. “Trixie!” Honey called. “Wait!” She ran after her friend, wondering what was going on. “Mister!” Trixie called to the man as he walked away. “Hey, mister!” Slowly, the stranger turned to face her. His eyes met hers, but now he was holding in his feelings, and she merely saw pale blue eyes looking into her own. He didn’t speak as he waited for her to say what was on her mind. Trixie blushed, and stammered, “I was just wondering if you needed some help ... I mean, you look lost, and I thought ...” The man gave her a small smile. “That is very kind of you, miss. I am looking for something, but I’m not sure where to find it.” His voice was soft and deep. “Well, if it’s here, maybe I can help.” Impulsively, she held her hand out to him. “I’m Trixie Belden.” She turned as Honey caught up to her. “And this is my friend, Honey Wheeler.” Gently, he took Trixie’s hand and then Honey’s. “I’m pleased to meet you both. My name is Bennu.” “What is it you’re looking for, Mr. Bennu?” Honey asked, repeating Trixie’s offer of help. “Just Bennu, please,” he replied, hesitating before he continued. “Can you tell me about any Native American Burial grounds in the area?” Trixie paused in thought. “Well, there are some around - we even thought there might have been one right on Honey’s family’s property once!” She grinned at Honey, remembering a mystery they had solved a couple of years before. “That one wasn’t real, but I understand that there may be some very old ones not to far from here.” Bennu nodded. “What I’m looking for may be in a burial site that would have been active a thousand years ago.” “I think there’s some over in Croton Gorge that’re that old - there were Mohawk tribes living here before Europeans came to this country.” Honey agreed. “We learned about that in Local History last semester - the Mohawks were a part of the Iroquois Nation.” “Thank you,” Bennu said, then turned to walk away. Trixie couldn’t understand the overwhelming feeling that she just had to help this man. “Wait!” she said, putting her free hand out as if to touch his arm. When he stopped, and turned back to look at her, she seemed flustered. “I - it’s late. You don’t want to head up there now - it’ll be dark by the time you get there anyway.” An idea occurred to her. “I bet my dad knows more - his family has lived here for over two hundred years. Why don’t you come with us? You can have dinner with my family, and talk to Dad.” Bennu hesitated, then shook his head. “Thank you, but I cannot.” Trixie looked him up and down, noting his worn and frayed clothing, and thin body. It was evident that meals had not been regular or plentiful for him recently. She guessed that he had little or no money. Her heart went out to him, adding to the desire to help him, and over riding any cautions against talking to strangers. “Please?” she asked him. “I’m sure Moms has made plenty to eat - sometimes, it seems like she’s feeding an army! It’ll be okay, really.” Bennu still hesitated. “If you’re certain ...” Bennu said slowly. “I’m certain,” Trixie answered firmly. “Let me run into Wimpy’s really quickly and give Moms a phone call, just to let her know.” Honey felt a strong desire to help Bennu as well, and didn’t question Trixie’s impulsiveness in inviting him home for dinner. As Trixie ran into the diner, Honey lead the way to the Bob-White station wagon. She and Trixie had kept the wagon when they’d stayed after school that afternoon to do research for papers they were working on. The rest of the Bob-Whites of the Glen - a semi-secret club formed by teenagers who lived near each other on Glen Road outside of Sleepyside - had returned home on the school bus. The other members were Trixie’s older brothers Brian and Mart, Honey’s adopted older brother Jim Frayne, Diana Lynch, and Dan Mangan. Brian and Jim were currently away at college. Trixie quickly rejoined Honey and Bennu at the car, and climbed into the driver’s seat. Bennu noticed the red and white sign on the door, with the letters ‘BWG.’ “What is ‘BWG’?” Bennu asked as Trixie put the car in gear. Honey turned to talk to him across the back of the front seat. “That’s the initials of our club - the Bob-Whites of the Glen.” “Your club?” Bennu asked, mild curiosity coloring his tone. Honey nodded with enthusiasm. “We vow to treat all the other members of the club as brothers and sisters, and we do all we can to help those who are less fortunate than we are.” “That sounds worthwhile,” Bennu commented. “Can you tell me what you’ve done?” “I’m sorry,” Honey told him. “That’s secret - we don’t feel it’s right to broadcast what we’ve accomplished. We don’t do it for praise, but just because it’s what’s right.” Trixie glanced at Bennu in the rearview mirror. “I’ve never heard of anyone called ‘Bennu’ before,” she said. “What kind of name is it?” “An old one,” Bennu said with a slight smile. “A family name? That’s cool. Where’s your family from?” Trixie continued. “Far away.” “Europe, you mean? Or someplace else?” “Some place else.” “Like where?” Honey broke in. “Trixie! Why are you pestering him? You’re making him uncomfortable.” Trixie looked at Bennu again. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Bennu. I didn’t mean to sound like I was interrogating you.” “It’s all right, Trixie,” Bennu told her. “I understand curiosity.” Bennu sat silently for the rest of the ride, watching out the window with interest. Trixie drove up the long driveway to the Manor House to drop Honey at her door. “Call me later!” Honey called as she waved goodbye. Trixie continued down the road to Crabapple Farm with Bennu sitting quietly beside her. When they arrived at the two-story farmhouse, Trixie led him inside to the kitchen, where two of her brothers, 17-year-old Mart and 9-year-old Bobby, were helping their mother with dinner preparations. “Moms!” Trixie broke into their conversation without preamble. “This is Bennu. He’s the one I called you about - he needs to talk to Dad.” Helen frowned briefly at her daughter before turning to Bennu and holding her hand out to him. “Hello, Bennu, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Helen Belden.” Bennu shook her hand and smiled politely. “Nice to meet you. I’m sorry if I’m imposing ...” “Nonsense!” Helen admonished him. “There’s always room around our table. Plenty of food as well - with our eldest son off to college, I haven’t been able to adjust how much I make, so we seem to have an awful lot of leftovers.” Trixie laughed. “That’s if Mart doesn’t try to scarf it all.” Mart gave her a superior look. “I’ll have you know, my pinion covered cognitive organ of a sister, that I have not been consuming any additional foodstuffs since the departure of our elder sibling than I was wont to do before.” Bennu looked at him, surprised that the young man would use such language. Trixie said, “Oh, pay no attention to him. He swallowed a dictionary when he was just a kid and hasn’t been able to speak normally since.” Helen shushed them both. “That’s enough, children. Please set the table, Trixie. Mart, if you would finish the potatoes, I’d appreciate it. Bobby, would you please show Mr. Bennu to the bathroom so he can wash up for dinner?” Bobby jumped up, saying, “Come on, Mr. Bennu, this way.” Bennu smiled at him. “Just Bennu, please, Bobby.” Bobby shrugged and led him out of the room.
 Everyone was sitting around the Belden dining table, enthusiastically helping themselves to the plentiful food. Trixie made sure that Bennu took generous portions of everything. “So, Bennu, where are you from?” Peter asked. Bennu shrugged. “All over. I travel a lot.” “I never get to go anywhere,” Bobby pouted. “Trixie’s even been to London but I’m stuck at home.” Helen frowned at her youngest son. “What about your family?” Peter persisted. “Oh, I don’t have a family of my own yet.” He turned to Helen, “Mrs. Belden, you’re a wonderful cook. This is delicious.” “Bennu said he’s interested in any really old Native American Burial mounds around here,” Trixie interjected. “Cool!” Mart enthused. “Are you an archeologist?” Bennu shook his head, smiling slightly. “Not exactly. I’m looking for a specific artifact.” “What kind of artifact?” Peter asked. “Something that may have been buried about 1000 years ago,” Bennu said. He pulled a terra cotta fragment from his pocket. “It should be marked by a symbol like this one.” He passed the fragment to Peter. Peter took the fragment and examined it. Carved into its surface was a sun, with several rays radiating from it, mated with a crescent moon. “This is an interesting symbol. Does it mean anything?” “It’s just a marker,” Bennu answered. “Do you know if it’s ever been seen in the area?” “I’m not familiar enough with the Native American findings - it’s not really my area of expertise,” Peter said. “But I do know just the person you should ask, - Nakia Standing Owl.” “Who is that, Daddy?” Trixie asked. “He’s a descendant of the Mohawks that used to live here,” Peter said. “I went to school with him. He handles the Native American relations in the area. He’s an historian and something of an amateur archeologist too.” “He sounds like just the right person indeed,” Bennu said. “Where can I find him?” “Well, tomorrow’s Saturday, so I’m not sure where he’ll be. I’ll see if I can call him this evening, and make arrangements for you to meet.” “I’m very grateful for all your help,” Bennu told him. The rest of the dinner passed with more questions asked of Bennu, all of which he politely dodged with indirect or obscure answers. Peter watched him, wondering about this strange man Trixie had found. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel any concern, just curiosity. Helen pushed extra helpings of everything, including dessert on Bennu, telling him that he needed to eat. Finally, everyone had finished eating. Bennu pushed his chair back from the table, and reached for empty dishes near him. Then he glanced at Mart, and, with a mischievous smile said, “An excellent repast, Mrs. Belden. You are a cuisinier exceeding parallel.” Bobby chortled at the open mouthed Mart. “He got you, Mart!” Bobby laughed as he began to help cleaning the table. “Good one, Bennu!” After the table was cleared, Peter called Nakia, who seemed very interested in meeting Bennu when the situation had been explained to him. He said he would be in Croton Gorge the next morning, and gave Peter directions to the location where he would be at 9:00. Hanging up the phone, Peter turned to Bennu to let him know where he needed to go. “Thank you,” Bennu said with heartfelt sincerity. “I really appreciate this.” He hesitated, then asked, “Would it be possible for one of you to give me a ride back into town, to a hotel?” Trixie looking pleadingly at her mother. Helen gave her a slight smile and turned to quirk and eyebrow at Peter. Peter just smiled and nodded, knowing his wife’s soft heart. Smiling back at her husband, Helen turned to Bennu. “A hotel?” Helen said. “Absolutely not! You can stay right here, in the guest room, for the night.” Bennu began to protest, but Trixie interrupted him. “What about going out to meet Mr. Standing Owl tomorrow?” Trixie wondered. “A taxi ride that far would be awfully expensive.” She turned to Peter. “Do you think I could drive him, Dad? After all, a visit to genuine Indian Burial mounds, with a Native American expert, would be very educational.” Peter laughed. “It sounds to me like it would be a good outing for all the Bob-Whites - after your morning chores are done.” Trixie squealed. “Wonderful! I’ll go call Honey right now!” Trixie raced out of the room, leaving Bennu open-mouthed with astonishment. He looked at the remaining Beldens and closed his mouth and said, “She’s ... full of energy, isn’t she?” Mart laughed. “That’s one way to put it. You could also say that she’s impulsive, impetuous, headlong, passionate, precipitate, spontaneous ....” He stopped at a look from Peter, then waived his hand in the direction Trixie had disappeared. “In any case, it is certain that Trixie is engaged in alerting Honey, Di and Dan to the arrival of a new mystery, and that the BWGs will be going on a field trip tomorrow in pursuit of the solution.” “New mystery?” Bennu asked. Helen chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, Bennu. Trixie finds mysteries everywhere. You just happened to arrive in town at the right time, with a bit of a mysterious air about you. We’ll do our best to make sure she doesn’t pester you too much.”
 The next morning, the family was up even earlier than normal. Helen did her best to keep everyone quiet so their guest could continue to sleep as everyone went about doing their chores. Mart fed the chickens and gathered the eggs. Bobby filled the cistern and fed Reddy, their adorable but undisciplined Irish Setter. Trixie headed out to the orchard to gather the last of the apples for the season. Trixie walked through the old crabapple trees with her basket, eyes searching for any remaining apples on the branches and scooping up any recent windfalls. As she reached the far end of the orchard, she caught sight of something glowing just within the trees of the Wheeler’s preserve. Curious, she crept forward to see what it could be. In a small clearing just beyond the trees, Trixie saw Bennu sitting cross-legged, his eyes closed. Even in the chill of the autumn early morning, he had removed his jacket and opened his shirt. On his chest, hanging from a gold chain around his neck, was a large medallion. Trixie couldn’t see the details on the medallion, but the glow seemed to start there as it caught the rays of the sun. From there, the glow spread to surround Bennu. Trixie stifled a gasp as she realized that Bennu was actually floating a few inches off the ground.
 As Trixie watched, Bennu slowly settled back onto the ground. The glow dimmed and disappeared. Bennu opened his eyes and began buttoning his shirt. Smiling, he looked through the trees toward Trixie.
 “I know you’re there,” he said. Trixie jumped a little - she hadn’t thought he’d be able to see her, standing behind the trees. Finally, she stepped out a little. “I’m sorry,” she told Bennu. “I didn’t mean to intrude, really. I just saw something - glowing - and I was curious.” “I understand,” Bennu said. “I don’t mind. I was just meditating.” He pulled his jacket back on, and stood. Trixie hesitated, then blurted, “Where you really floating?” Bennu laughed easily as he walked over to her. “Is that what it looked like?” Trixie nodded vigorously. “Well, then, perhaps I was.” He smiled. “Then again, maybe it was just a trick of the light.” Trixie looked doubtful. “What about the glow? You were glowing!” Bennu looked down, and shrugged. “It was probably just the sunlight,” he suggested. “The sunlight?” Trixie asked. “I don’t think so.” Bennu shrugged again, and changed the subject. “Shouldn’t we be getting back?” Trixie looked like she was going to continue the discussion, but then decided to let it rest for now. They walked through the orchard together, arriving back at the house just in time for breakfast. Just as they were finishing their meal, Dan arrived, followed closely by Honey. “Good morning, everyone!” Dan greeted them as they came through the back door. “Good morning, Dan, Honey,” Moms said. “Would you two like some pancakes?” “Yum! I love your homemade pancakes, Mrs. Belden!” Honey said eagerly, sitting down next to Trixie. Dark haired Dan Mangan wasted no time sitting next to his best friend and classmate, Mart, and accepted a plate full of pancakes with a grin. By the time everyone had pitched in to help clean up the kitchen, Diana Lynch had arrived. Diana was a classmate of Honey and Trixie’s, and was widely considered to be the prettiest girl in school with her black hair and violet eyes. Trixie led the Bob Whites and Bennu out to the station wagon after introducing Diana to their mysterious visitor. “Dad gave me the directions, so I’ll drive,” Mart told Dan on the way out. “You can drive on the way back.” “No, you should navigate on the way up,” Dan replied. “It’ll be easier for you to direct me.” “You’re cracked!” Mart argued back. “I ...” “Oh, boys!” Trixie called sweetly. They looked over to see her standing by the open driver’s door of the station wagon, the keys dangling from her hand. “Dad gave me the directions, too. Mart, you can navigate if you want!” Everyone piled into the car, Mart sitting next to Trixie in front, Bennu and Diana behind them, and Dan and Honey in the rear. Trixie started the car and pulled onto Glen Road. They were on their way! Once they were well on their way, Dan leaned forward. “So, Bennu, Trixie didn’t tell us much about you, or what you’re looking for. Care to fill us in?” Bennu turned his head to regard Dan, all too aware of the hidden suspicion in Dan’s voice. “I mean no harm to you or your friends,” he told Dan. “I am on a quest of my own, and I had no intention of getting anyone else involved. Trixie ... has a generous heart, and offered to help all on her own.” “Uh-huh,” Dan said. “So just what is this quest?” “I’m looking for something that was buried in a Native American burial ground at least 1000 years ago.” “What is this ‘something’? Why are you looking for it?” “It’s something that was left for me,” Bennu said. “Let for you?” Dan pressed. “By whom?” “It’s a very long story,” Bennu said. “One I’d really rather not get into right now. After we visit these burial grounds today, if I find my marker, I might be able to explain better.” Honey, who’d been listening quietly, now laid a hand on Dan’s arm. “Dan!” she said. “Take it easy!” She smiled an apology at Bennu. “It sounds like you’re grilling a criminal or something!” Bennu smiled back at her, then deliberately turned his back on them and faced the front. Dan stared at Honey. “Don’t you think we ought to find out a little more information?” “Well, maybe ...” Honey seemed unsure. “But I just think you’re going about it the wrong way. I’m just sure that Bennu is a good person, and he needs our help. He’ll tell us more when he gets comfortable with us.” Dan frowned, not at all trusting Honey’s statement, but he didn’t resume questioning Bennu. There’d be more time for that later. Dan allowed Honey to sooth him into innocuous conversation, but he continued to wonder about the strange man in the middle seat.
Nakia Standing Owl stood gazing at the cliff wall before him. A tall man, of Native American heritage, he wore his black hair in a long ponytail. He was standing deep in a natural gorge that cut across several miles of northern New York State. The walls of the gorge showed many signs of long ago habitation by the Native Americans who had been here hundreds, even thousands, of years before. Nakia had discovered not long ago that this particular stretch had been used as a burial site.
 Nakia began to ramble down the path, his dark eyes scanning the walls of the gorge. Trees, bushes and undergrowth had returned in profusion, covering much of what lay beneath. But, here and there, in among the bushes and trees, he spied small things that told him what truly lay beneath the surface. There - a stone standing on end. The paint had long since worn off, but he knew it had once been there. Here, nearer the trail, a lone tree with markings on the top 6 feet of its trunk, half-hidden in the fall foliage. A little way up one sloped side of the gorge was a large granite slab, seemingly untouched - except in one small spot that Nakia could see from where he stood. Details where indistinguishable, but he had gotten closer to examine it before and knew what was on that rock face. He didn’t need to climb up to see it again. Slowly, he made his way out of the gorge to meet his friend’s daughter.
The Bob-White station wagon pulled into a parking area over looking Croton Go rge just before 9:00. As everyone got out and stretched, Trixie saw a tall man with dark hair and deeply tanned skin walking toward them. “Hello!” he called out as he got close. “Are you the Beldens and friends?” Trixie, taking the lead as usual, stepped toward him, her hand out. “Yes! I’m Trixie Belden,” she said as they shook hands. She indicated each of her friends in turn. “This is my brother Mart, that’s Diana Lynch, Dan Mangan and Honey Wheeler. And this,” she finished drawing Bennu forward, “is Bennu. He’s the one that wanted to speak with you.” The man gave them all a friendly smile. “It’s very nice to meet you,” he told them. “I’m Nakia Standing Owl.” He shook hands with each of them in turn, finishing with Bennu. “I hope I’ll be able to help you, Bennu. Can you tell me what you’re looking for?” Bennu pulled his terra-cotta fragment from his pocket to show to Nakia. “Have you seen this symbol anywhere around here?” Nakia took the fragment and turned it about in his hands, frowning in concentration as he looked at the symbol. Finally, he said, “I have seen it. I’m not sure it’s exactly the same, but if it isn’t, it’s very close.” He handed the fragment back to Bennu. “I’d be happy to show it to you.” “Thank you,” Bennu said. Nakia turned to lead the way down the path into the gorge. The Bob-Whites followed behind the two men. The rough path wound in switchbacks down the steep side of the gorge to a water-worn trail at the bottom. The sides of the gorge were covered by wild bushes and trees, brilliant in fall colors. The sky was overcast, with fast moving clouds, but otherwise the day was perfect for a hike. The group walked in silence as they took in the beauty around them. Around a curve, they came upon the first sign of man’s intrusion. Someone had been digging here, and raw patches of earth lay exposed. Still, the intrusion was minimal - whoever had done the digging had been careful not to disturb the plant-life any more than absolutely necessary. Nakia picked his way carefully past the raw patches. “The symbol I saw is up above here,” he said, gesturing further up the side of the gorge, at a spot where a steep incline lead up to a granite slab. “It’s a little bit of steep going, but not dangerous. It is do-able, if you’re careful.” Making a small leap up through the foliage, Nakia lead the way. One by one, the others mimicked the leap to a small rock and began the climb. Soon, everyone except Bennu was panting slightly. He alone seemed to have no difficulty with the climb, moving with the grace and perfect balance of a cat. A quarter of the way up the incline, Nakia stopped in front of a bare rock face. This formation was an outcropping of the underlying granite, washed clean of topsoil and jutting vertically to form a small cliff. Nakia waited until the rest of the group had formed up at the base of this cliff, then lifted his hand to point at a spot almost in the exact center of the rock face. A cloud cleared the face of the sun at that moment, and a dazzling shaft of light blazed on a symbol of a mated sun and crescent moon. Bennu, his face reflecting the sunlight, moved closer and reached up to trace the symbol with hesitant fingers. He withdrew his fragment from his pocket, and held it up to compare with the one on the rock face. They were identical. “Can you tell me about this symbol?” Nakia asked. “Where did you get your fragment, and why are you searching for its match?” Bennu paused, then turned to face the others. Searching for their faces, he read honest curiosity. He nodded. “I got this fragment from an archeological dig in Peru - an Aztec site,” he explained. “The Aztec’s believed they had been visited by gods that may have been astronauts from another world. This symbol is supposed to mark the place where these visitors may have landed.” “Cool!” Mart exclaimed. “Ancient astronauts?” Dan scoffed. “You seriously believe that stuff?” Bennu fixed Dan with his pale eyes. “That is one explanation for the Aztec myths. The fact that we have found this symbol here, on another continent, may lend credence to this theory.” Dan had the grace to flush and look away. Before he could say anything, however, Nakia spoke up. “I have heard of this theory,” he said. “I was not aware of anything suggesting landing sites outside of South America, however. What brought you to New York, Bennu?” “Much travel and searching,” Bennu said with a rueful smile. “There was information suggesting that this symbol might be found somewhere north of the 24th parallel - above the Tropic of Cancer. I have visited many Burial Grounds across North America looking for it.” “I don’t understand,” Honey admitted. “What is parallel to what? What is the Tropic of Cancer - is that someplace tropical that cancer patients go? - and what does it have to do with parallel whatevers?” “Are you familiar with the terms ‘latitude’ and ‘longitude’?” Bennu asked. “Sure,” Mart chimed in. “That’s how the Earth is divided into coordinates, so you can specify exact locations by their hours and minutes of longitude and north or south latitude.” Bennu nodded. “Right. They are usually represented on maps and globes by lines. Longitude lines run from pole to pole, going across the equator. Latitude lines circle the earth parallel to the equator. So, when you refer to a ‘parallel’, you’re referring a latitude. In my case the 24th parallel is the 24 latitude line north of the equator.” “I get it!” Diana exclaimed. “That line is also known as the Tropic of Cancer, right?” “Right!” Bennu smiled. “The ‘tropics’ is an area centered on the equator, where the sun reaches a point directly overhead, the zenith, at least once year. The northern boundary of this region is the Tropic of Cancer. The southern one is the Tropic of Capricorn.” “Did you know that the word ‘tropics’ comes from Greek tropos meaning ‘turn’, because the apparent position of the Sun oscillates between the two tropics?” Mart asked. “Actually, I did know that,” Bennu answered. “Oh,” Mart said, momentarily crushed. After a moment’s pause to digest so much new knowledge, Trixie asked “So, now what?” “Yeah, what happens now?” Mart asked, curiosity making his eyes snap. “Are you going to bring in other archeologists to study this site?” Honey wondered. Before Bennu could answer, there was a rustling among the brush higher on the wall of the gorge. Everyone started, and a flash of fur could be seen as a small animal ran away to disappear behind another clump of bushes. “What was that?” Diana asked, her violet eyes wide. Nakia grinned. “Probably just a groundhog. I’ve seen them around here before.” He turned to Bennu, his smile disappearing. “So, as they were saying, what now, Bennu? Are you going to bring officials up here?” “Officials?” Bennu said. “No, I don’t think so. At least not right away. I’ll need to do some looking around on my own first - check out the area, make sure the symbol is authentic,” he explained. “I suggest that Nakia and I - and maybe one or two of the Bob-Whites - look around. If all of us try to look, we’d just end up destroying what we’re looking for.” Trixie and Dan joined Bennu and Nakia and were soon engaged in looking around the area, trying to find any signs of recent tampering. Diana drew a sketchpad from her bag and began to draw as Honey and Mart watched the search.
Special Agent Jason Preminger studied the map spread on the desk in front of him with growing frustration. A man in his late 30s, his light brown hair was prematurely streaked with gray. A pair of horn-rimmed glasses rested on his hawk-beak of a nose, almost hiding his gray eyes. His brown suit jacket was hung on the back of his chair, showing his rumpled white shirt. He leaned back in his chair loosening his tie. The phone on Preminger’s desk rang. He made an irritated grimace as he picked it up. “What?” he said abruptly. He listened for a moment, then growled, “Where exactly is Sleepyside-on-Hudson?” The voice on the other end spoke some more, before Preminger asked, “Are you certain it’s him? Are you sure it’s Bennu?” He apparently received the assurance he was looking for and nodded. “Fine. I’ll fly into White Plains this afternoon. Keep an eye on him, but otherwise don’t do anything until I get there.” Preminger slammed the phone back into its cradle. The map he’d been studying still lay open on the desk, and drew a glare from Preminger. He scooped it up, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into a trash can beside the desk. Then he stood, straightening his tie. He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, into the main offices of the National Security Agency.
 Bennu paused in his search of the area to check out what the others were doing. Nakia seemed to be very methodical in his search pattern. Of them all, he was the one who could best determine if there had been an y deception in the placing of the symbol on the rock. Trixie was more haphazard, but Bennu was certain her eyes wouldn’t miss much. Dan seemed determined to remain near Bennu and keep an eye on him. Diana had taken a sketchbook from her pocket and busied herself drawing the landscape. Honey and Mart sat near Diana, relaxing. Bennu turned away from others and studied the rock face itself. The piece of granite jutted from the side of the gorge, as a crooked tooth might jut from the jaw of a giant. Tracing the edge of the rock, it seemed well buried in the accumulated dirt and growth around it. No other stone was immediately apparent. To the left of the rock sprang a growth of bushes, bare of leaves, the branches thrust out with grasping fingers. To the right of the rock was a weeping willow, the long supple branches brushing across the rock face with a gentle touch. At the foot of the stone, the soil was trapped and held by grass, dying and brown, scattered with dying wildflowers. Bennu climbed around the rock to reach the hillside above it. Standing on the shelf formed by the jutting granite, he studied the area above it. Nothing unusual caught his eye, as more of the native growth spilled down from above. Bennu returned to his previous vantage point, where he could reach up to study the symbol itself. Once again, he removed is fragment from his pocket, and compared it with the rock face. They symbols were identical - except for one thing. They were reversed. If Bennu turned his fragment over, the symbol etched on its surface would fit exactly over the one on the rock. Bennu ran his fingers over the both symbols, but he did not put his fragment over the one on the rock. To Dan, watching Bennu, it seemed as though Bennu was deliberately refusing to place the fragment on to the rock face. He climbed up to stand beside Bennu. “What would happen if you were to fit the two symbols together?” Dan asked in a low voice. Bennu gave him a sharp glance. “Why would I want to do that?” “Because they look like they’d fit,” Dan said. “Why don’t you try it?” Bennu shook his head and replaced his fragment in his pocket. “No,” he said. “Not yet.” “Why?” Dan pressed. “What do you think will happen?” Bennu turned away and headed back to the path at the base of the wall. “I - I’m not certain. I won’t risk it right now, not with your friends scattered all over the gorge.” He deliberately turned his back on Dan and walked toward Honey, Diana and Mart. He called out to Trixie and Nakia as he went. “I don’t know how much more we’ll see at the moment. Why don’t we get some lunch?” The rest of the group gathered, and Nakia lead them out of the gorge, back to the car.
Nakia had declined to eat with the group, and stood in the parking lot watching as they piled into their station wagon and headed into town. He was about to turn back down into the gorge when another car pulled up. A pretty blonde got out of the car, and waved to him. “Excuse me!” she called. “I wonder if you could help me?” Nakia studied her as she walked toward him. She was tall, for a woman, about 5'9", he guessed, and slender. An athletic type. She wore a business-like suit and flat heeled shoes. Some kind of government agent was how he pegged her. “I’m from the NSA - National Security Agency,” she said, confirming Nakia’s guess. She held out a wallet with a badge gleaming in its folds so Nakia could see it. “I’m Agent George. I’m wondering if you could answer some questions about the area for me?” Nakia reached out to shake Agent George’s offered hand. “I’m Nakia Standing Owl,” he told her. “What can I tell you about Croton Gorge?”
The Bob-Whites and Bennu had headed for the local town of Croton-on-the-Hudson. At a diner, they all piled out again and headed for the door. Bennu, however, hung back. “Thank you for all your help,” he told Trixie, “but I really think it’s time I said good-bye.” “But, you aren’t finished with your quest!” Trixie protested. “I want to see it through to the end!” Bennu gave her a sad smile. “I’ve found one more step on the way, thanks to you. I really have no idea where, or when, I’ll find the end.” “I don’t understand,” Trixie said. “All you found was a matching symbol on a hillside. How is that going to help you?” “Trust me,” Bennu assured her, “it’ll help me a lot.” He reached out and shook her hand. “I really do want to thank you, and your parents, for everything. I’m in your debt. But now I have to go.” He turned to address the rest of the group. “Thank you all. Good-bye.” Ignoring all further efforts on Trixie’s part to continue the argument, Bennu turned and walked away up the street. “Close your mouth, Trix,” Mart advised his sister. “Somehow, I don’t think Bennu wants us around any more.” Trixie shut her mouth with a snap. She watched Bennu with narrowed eyes. “There’s something more going on with him,” she said. “Uh-oh,” Mart wailed, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “Trixie smells a mystery!” Trixie just tossed her head and lead the group into the diner, ignoring Mart’s continued teasing.
“So, exactly how far is it to this Indian Burial Ground?” Special Agent Preminger demanded. Agent Ford tossed Preminger’s travel bag into the trunk of his car and walked to the driver’s door. He always hated it when he was assigned to pick up Special Agents - they always had an attitude. He quietly heaved a sigh, and tried to hide his irritation as he answered. “It’s up in Croton Gorge, which is north of us about 20 miles.” He settled himself behind the steering wheel, while Preminger got in the passenger side. “Agent George went up that way about an hour ago, to see if she could find any information for us. We’ll meet with her in Croton-on-the-Hudson.” “Good,” Preminger nodded his approval. “Let’s go!”
Agent George drove into town, keeping a careful watch for the station wagon that Nakia had grudgingly described to her. She kept a firm control on her rising excitement - to be so close to catching up with Bennu! If he really was everything that was rumored around the office, this would be a special coup to add to her resume. There! That’s it - the station wagon with red and white door signs saying “BWG”! George quickly pulled into the parking lot. Just as she pulled in next to the station wagon she saw a group of five teenagers, all of them wearing red jackets, coming out of the diner. “Excuse me!” George called as she got out of her car. “Are you the Bob-Whites?” The group paused, and the short, curly-haired blonde girl stepped forward. “Yes,” she said, “is there something we can do for you?” “I’m Agent George, with the NSA. I’d like to ask you a couple of questions.” George looked the group over, noting the blonde boy who was obviously the brother of the spokeswoman. The dark haired boy looked like he was no stranger to trouble. George dismissed the other two girls as not worthy of much attention. “Questions?” the blonde girl asked. “About what?” She looked at the others in the group, wondering what was going on. “About the gentleman that was with you this morning at the gorge,” George said. “Which gentleman?” the girl wondered. George sighed. “Let me start over,” she showed her teeth in an attempt at a smile. “I haven’t even gotten your names yet.” “Oh!” the girl blushed. “I’m sorry! I forgot my manners! I’m Trixie Belden.” She gestured to each of the others in turn. “My brother Mart Belden, Honey Wheeler, Diana Lynch and Dan Mangan.” “It’s nice to meet all of you,” George nodded to them all. “I’m interested in the blonde gentleman that was with you. Can you tell me where Bennu is? I thought he was with your group.” Trixie shook her head. “Not really. I mean, he drove up here with us, but he’s not one of us.” “We only met him yesterday,” Honey put in. George was feeling frustrated. “Do you know where he is now?” she gritted out. The dark-haired boy, Dan, spoke up. “I’m sorry, Agent George, but could you show us some identification?” George coolly looked him over. The boy didn’t budge, keeping a polite look on his face as he waited. George decided she had better be very careful with this one as she dug into her jacket pocket for the slim wallet with her badge. She held it out, and Dan and Trixie both examined it. “Thank you,” Dan finally said. “ Now, what was it you were asking?” A tight smile on George’s face acknowledged Dan’s small victory. “I asked if you know where Bennu is now?” They all shook their heads. “We suggested that he have lunch with us,” Mart said, “but he went off on his own.” “Could you tell me how you met him, and what you were doing with him here, please?” George asked. “We just gave him a ride, that’s all,”Trixie said. “Why would you do that?” “He looked like he needed help.” George scanned the group once again, deciding that it wasn’t likely she’d get much more information from these kids - at least, not without a warrant. She pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it to Trixie. “If you see him again, or hear from him, will you please call me?” She turned back to her car, ready to leave. “Agent George?” Trixie stopped her. “Can you tell us why you’re looking for Bennu? Has he done something wrong?” George noticed that the dark haired boy - Dan Mangan - seemed to be watching her with a great deal of suspicion. He might bear looking into, she thought. “Bennu seemed so nice,” Diana put in. “I can’t imagine that he’s done anything serious.” “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” George stated. “It’s a matter of national security - that’s all you need to know.”
Bennu wandered through the back streets of Croton-on-the-Hudson, gradually working his way back toward the gorge. He needed to go back to the symbol of the Phoenix, but he didn’t want anyone else around when he did. Watching the woods around him, Bennu walked through the greenery, feeling its peace soak into him. He could feel the life force of several small animals, but they kept their distance. No people disturbed the well-being of this area, and Bennu relaxed. Bennu found the path at the bottom of the gorge and followed it to the rock with the Phoenix symbol. Glancing at the sun, he realized that the afternoon was moving on and he’d better finish what he needed to do quickly. This time of the year, and this far north, the daylight wouldn’t last too much longer. This deep into the gorge, the light would leave even sooner. He needed the power of the sunlight. Taking a quick moment to calm his thoughts and center his energies, Bennu drew his terra cotta fragment from his pocket. Stepping up to the rock, he placed the fragment against the symbol and turned it.
 A loud CRACK! split the air and the rock broke loose from the soil around it, sliding out to reveal an opening behind it. Bennu took his time returning his fragment to his pocket, allowing the air in the small cave to circulate. When he finally entered the cave, Bennu walked with care, watching for traps and pitfalls. The opening gave onto a small tunnel going back into the hillside. Several feet in, the tunnel opened up into a small room. This room was as bare as the tunnel had been. Another opening to one side led further into the bedrock. This time the tunnel was short. At its end was a large room. As Bennu stepped into this room, a dim glow began to show, and then brighten, sensing his presence and acknowledging his right to enter. The room was at least 20 feet on a side, and much too regular to be a natural chamber. Smooth, round rocks, each about six inches across, were placed at regular intervals around the walls, the glow emanated from them until the chamber was easily seen. In the center of the chamber, on a low dias, was a coffin. The coffin, really a large sarcophagus, shown with a burnished golden color. More than six feet long, it seemed to be a solid metal box, with no way of opening. On its top was a raised symbol, surrounded by Incan characters. The symbol was a circle, about two feet across. Contained within it was a triangle, the corners meeting the inside of the circle. Inside the bottom of the triangle was representation of flames. Rising from the flames was a feathered snake, it’s outstretched wings escaping from the triangle to extend to the outer edge of the circle. A Quetzalcoatl, an Aztec god of the sky. Bennu stepped up onto the dais, and put his hand onto the top of the sarcophagus ... and right through it. The solid-seeming sarcophagus wasn’t really there! “Bennu ...” A breath of sound, more felt than heard, whispered through the air. “Bennu ...” Bennu closed his eyes, reaching into himself, letting the voice into his mind and heart. “Bennu ... I’m not here. I was moved, long ago, to another safe haven. I am waiting for you.” “Mira!” Bennu called to her, reaching for the fading sense of her presence. Mira’s lingering essence was washed away with a sudden, overwhelming presence of evil. “Bennu! You’re too late!” the foul presence gloated. “You will never find her!” The presence began to manifest as a villainous parody of a wolf. It glared at Bennu, curling its lip in a snarl. “She can’t help you now. I will finally be able to finish you!” Bennu staggered back as a wall of force, vile in nature, slammed into him. “No!” he cried. “Be gone, Yago - you have no power over me!” Reaching inside his shirt Bennu pulled out his medallion so he could tap into the stored power of the sun within it. The medallion began to glow with a scintillating brilliance. “Ha! Your mastery over the sun will not always be able to save you. I will go - but I’ll come back when you are at your weakest!” The wolf vanished. The foul presence was gone. “Run, Yago,” Bennu whispered after him. “Your mastery over the moon cannot stand up to the sun.”
Agent Ford turned into the parking area in front of the small building containing the local sheriff’s office. Special Agent Preminger slammed out of the car and stalked toward the front door. Ford felt like some kind of worthless hireling as he scurried after Preminger. At the front desk, a sheriff’s deputy looked up as the door was battered open. “Hey, buddy, what’s your problem?” he demanded. The man in the suit held a badge up, almost shoving it into the deputy’s face. “Special Agent Preminger, NSA. I need to see the sheriff,” he demanded. The deputy held up a placating hand. “Okay, okay, just relax. I’ll get the sheriff.” The deputy quickly disappeared through the open door of an office at the back. He came back almost immediately, followed by a man who could only be the sheriff. The sheriff was a solid man, not quite six feet tall, but broad shouldered and thick-waisted. His grey hair was nothing more than a fringe around the crown of his head. The brown uniform he wore was neat and pressed - the image of a no-nonsense, efficient public servant. “Special Agent? I’m Sheriff Griffith.” He walked around the front desk reached out to shake Preminger’s hand. “What can I do for you?” “I need to talk to you, Sheriff. Can we go to your office?” The sheriff gestured for Preminger to lead the way back into his office. Once there, the Sheriff settled himself behind his desk. “Well?” the sheriff invited Preminger to talk. “Do you mind if I close the door?” Preminger asked. Without waiting for the sheriff to answer, Preminger firmly shut the door. He then settled in a chair facing the desk and drew a photo from his pocket. Laying the photo on the desk in front of the sheriff, he began to talk. “This is Bennu. He’s a very dangerous man that the National Security Agency is looking for. I can’t give you any details, but suffice it to say that this man could tear down the very fabric of the United States government. A NSA agent happened to see him yesterday in a small town south of here, Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson. We’re fairly certain that he traveled here, to this town, this morning, to visit the Native American Burial Grounds in your gorge.” Sheriff Griffith picked up the photo and studied it, then set it down square on the desk. “What is it you want from me, Special Agent?” Preminger shook his head. “I don’t really need anything from you, except cooperation. I want you to put your deputies on alert, to be on the lookout for him. Then I want you to notify me if he’s seen. Do nothing else, and do not attempt to detain him yourself.” Griffith nodded. “Very well. We’ll do what we can to ‘cooperate.’”
Trixie and the Bob-Whites stood in the parking lot of the diner, watching Agent George drive away. “Something’s very strange here,” Trixie said. “I wonder why the NSA is so interested in Bennu? He seemed harmless to me.” Dan shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I thought he was hiding something.” “I suggest we go home and forget about Bennu,” Mart said. “Oh, but what if he needs our help?” Honey asked. “What if Bennu needs our help? What if Bennu is dangerous?” Diana asked. Trixie slowly shook her head. “I don’t think he’s dangerous. Somehow, I think there’s something not quite right about this whole thing.” The others exchanged glances, realizing that they were off once again on an adventure. Dan turned to Trixie, his hands spread in surrender. “Okay, Trix so where do we start?” Trixie caught her lower lip in her teeth, thinking. She quickly decided, “I think we need to go back to the gorge. There’s got to be more to that symbol than we saw.” Everyone piled into the station wagon, and they were soon on the road back to the gorge.
Agent George pulled into the parking area in front of the local sheriff’s office. When she entered the office, Agent Ford turned to greet her. “Hey, Phyllis,” he said. She nodded her head at him, peremptorily. “Ford. What are you doing here?” Ford shrugged. “I was detailed to pick up Special Agent Preminger at the airport and bring him here.” “I see.” She looked toward the sheriff’s closed office door. “Is he in there?” Ford nodded. At that moment, the closed door swung open. Preminger walked out, closely followed by Sheriff Griffith. “I’ll get this photo circulated immediately,” the sheriff was saying. “Don’t worry, if he’s still in the area, we’ll find him.” Preminger looked up and saw Agent George. “Agent George!” he said. “Do you have a report?” “Yes, sir,” she answered. “Bennu has been seen here. He visited the Burial Ground, with a group of teenagers, this morning. A local Indian guide, Nakia Standing Owl, showed them the area. The group of teens, with Bennu, came into town for lunch. However, once they arrived at the diner, Bennu left the teens and went off on his own. That appears to be the last time he was seen.” “How long ago was that, Agent?” Preminger’s voice was cold. “At least an hour and a half ago, sir. Possibly two hours.” Preminger shook his head in disgust. “Bennu could be anywhere by now.” Sheriff Griffith handed the photo of Bennu to the deputy at the front desk. “Earl, send copies of this to everyone.” The deputy studied the photo curiously. “Who is he? What’s he done?” “His name is Bennu, and you don’t need to know any more than that - just that he’s wanted by the NSA,” the sheriff told him. The deputy shrugged and turned away to do as he had been told. “I want to see what they found in the gorge,” Preminger said. “George, we’ll take your car. Ford, I want you to get back to the office and get us some more man power.”
Trixie, leading the way headlong as usual, almost ran down the path into the gorge. Close on her heels, the other Bob-Whites followed. When they neared the spot with the granite outcropping bearing Bennu’s symbol, they slowed. Finally, they could see through the foliage around them - could see an opening in the hillside that hadn’t been there before. Bennu, face drawn and pale, stepped out of the opening. He stopped when he saw the group of teens. For a moment, no one moved or spoke. “Is this what happens when you put the two symbols together?” Dan asked softly, not wanting to disturb the quiet. Bennu nodded. He opened his mouth, then hesitated before speaking. “I hadn’t intended to let you see this.” Bennu looked away. “I don’t want to get you into any trouble.” Trixie stepped up beside Bennu, putting her hand on his arm. Honey and Diana were right behind her. “We want to help,” Trixie said simply. “Um, Trix?” Mart said. “Can we talk - privately - for a moment?” Dan, standing just behind Mart, nodded. “I need a minute to myself,” Bennu said as he drew away from the group to find a clearing in the woods where he could sit in the sun. Trixie and the others drew into a close knot. “What is it, Mart?” “Bennu’s wanted by the NSA,” he said bluntly. “I know you want to help him, but do you really think this is a good idea?” “We could be getting in over our heads,” Dan agreed. Trixie took a deep breath. “I know that helping Bennu is the right thing to do - I can feel it,” she started. “But we can ask him some questions, if that’ll help you feel better about this. Just keep in mind that just because the NSA wants him doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a criminal.” With everyone agreeing, the Bob-Whites approached Bennu once again. “We need you to tell us exactly what’s going on,” Dan said. “No more secrets.” Bennu wavered. Honey, standing beside Trixie, reached out to Bennu. “Please. We do want to help, but we really need to know what we’re getting into.” Bennu nodded slowly. “All right. Thank you.” He glanced behind himself, at the opening in the hillside. “But first, we need to get away from here.” “We can go back to the diner,” Mart suggested. “Oh, no, Mart!” Diana disagreed. “That NSA agent might come back, or be watching.” “NSA?” Bennu asked. “Preminger?” Trixie shook her head. “No. Her name was Agent George.” “She’ll be working with Preminger,” Bennu stated. “Let’s head to the dam,” Dan proposed. “There’s the park there if we need more time to figure out what to do, and we can talk on the way.” “Talk about what?” asked Nakia, stepping up behind the group. “This hole in my Burial Grounds?” Everyone jumped and spun to face Nakia. “Just what exactly is going on here?” Nakia continued, his face flushed with anger. “I didn’t hear any explosives, but you must’ve done something to make this opening!” “It’s an old cave,” Bennu explained, trying to keep his voice low and soothing. “I merely re-opened it, by using a key - my symbol. The symbol carved on the granite was the lock.” “Really.” Nakia was still angry, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. “What did you find inside?” Bennu shook his head. “Nothing. What was there is gone. It was moved long ago.” His eyes held a deep sadness. Disappointed that there was nothing more than that to show for the destruction of the hillside, and upset that federal agents had been poking around, Nakia decided he’d had enough. “Look, why don’t you all just get out of the gorge?” Nakia demanded. “And don’t come back.” He stalked away, toward the cave, to check out exactly how much damage had been done. Bennu watched him walk away. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I would put it back if I could.” Nakia didn’t stop to hear him. The Bob-Whites and Bennu walked out of the gorge.
The Bob-White station wagon had no more than disappeared down the road when Agent George, with Special Agent Preminger, pulled into the parking area near the gorge. “So, where’s this rock that Bennu was interested in?” Preminger asked as he got out of the car. “Down the path there,” George pointed. “I didn’t actually go down and see it myself, but Nakia told me that it’s that way.” Preminger nodded, and strode over to the path, and marched down it. George hurried to follow him. At the bottom of the path, Preminger paused. He looked down at the path, trying to determine which direction to go. The path to the left had definite footprints, so Preminger swung around and marched off to the left. George sighed and continued in pursuit. Soon, Preminger reached the point on the path where the group had climbed up to the rock. From there, he could see a Native American - presumably Nakia - standing at the entrance to a small cave in the hillside. He climbed up to join him. “Mr. Standing Owl? I’m Special Agent Preminger,” he said, holding out his hand. Nakia took his hand reluctantly, still feeling upset by all the intrusions. “What can I do for you, Special Agent?” His voice was not friendly. “Tell me about the symbol Bennu was looking for.” “Why do want to know?” Nakia answered belligerently. “It’s part of a Federal investigation,” Preminger returned. His voice wasn’t friendly either. Nakia shook his head. “It was an old symbol that he said he’d found in Peru. That’s all I know - except that the matching symbol here is gone now. Obliterated.” Nakia paused, then continued, “If I ever see him again, I’ll have him arrested for destruction of federal property.” Preminger gave him a tight smile. “He’ll be arrested before that can happen,” he promised. He gestured to the cave, asking “Mind if I have a look?” Nakia shook his head. “Help yourself. There’s nothing there.” Preminger walked into the opening, and made a quick tour of the rooms inside, verifying that there was nothing there. He walked back out to rejoin Nakia and George. “Where did Bennu go when he left here?” Preminger asked.< P> Nakia shrugged. “I don’t know - didn’t ask. I just wanted him gone.” He paused, then continued, “But those kids were with him ... maybe they left together.” “Those teenagers?” Agent George’s voice was sharp. “The ones that belong to that club - Bob-Whites?” Nakia nodded. “How long ago did they leave?” Preminger demanded. Nakia shook his head. “I’m not sure. I was really angry, wasn’t paying much attention to the time. I’d say at least half an hour ago, maybe as much as an hour.” “Damn!” Preminger exploded. “They must’ve left just before we got here. Come on, George. We’re going to see if we can catch them.”
Chapter 2: Who Are You?
Word Count: 9990
A couple of notes about items in the story:
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