Kates set a fast pace on the return trip and would have gone faster if that hadn’t meant leaving the comforting beam of the flashlight behind. They emerged into daylight again to find everyone else standing outside the entrance, varying expressions of anxiety and excitement on their faces. “What did you find?” Rick asked. He was one of the excited ones, all but jumping up and down.
“Nothing,” Kates said.
Rick’s face fell. “Nothing?”
“Nothing yet,” Jillian said firmly. “We didn’t go far.”
“All right, everybody, back out,” Ben said. “We’re jammed up in here like sardines. Let’s get some space and plan what we’re going to do.”
What they were going to do was simple. He had done some fast thinking while they were inside the tunnel. On the chance that they might have found the Stone City, he didn’t intend to leave Jillian behind at the mercy of either Kates or Dutra. Where he went, she went. They couldn’t carry the litters through there because of the twists and turns, but would have no trouble negotiating the corridor with backpacks in place. The loads were swiftly broken down and redistributed, almost weighing the men down. He hoped it wouldn’t be a long trek through the tunnel.
He roped everyone together by the simple method of running the rope through a belt loop—a problem with Pepe and Eulogio, since they didn’t have belt loops, but Jillian provided some safety pins and they improvised. Jillian insisted on carrying a small pack slung around her right shoulder, wanting to do what she could, and everyone carried a flashlight.
With the Glock firmly in his right fist and the shotgun within reach, Ben led them back into the tunnel. He had no idea what they would find. The tunnel might be a dead end, or it could be blocked by a landslide. Anything was possible.
Jillian transferred her flashlight to her left hand and surreptitiously slid her own pistol out of the pack on her shoulder. She had made certain it was close at hand.
Ben went first, followed by Jillian, with Pepe behind her. Pepe seemed very nervous about the proceedings, but she suspected it was the closeness of the tunnel that got to him. The more stolid Eulogio was merely interested, rather than fearful.
Sound echoed so severely, reverberating in their ears, that everyone quickly learned to whisper.
She estimated they had gone at least a quarter of a mile when the tunnel abruptly sloped upward, with wide, shallow steps that seemed to have been carved out of the stone. It wasn’t a steep slope, but it took a toll on the men, since they were carrying so much extra weight.
The air became even cooler, and Jillian shivered. Ben’s flashlight picked out nothing but more of the same. “How much farther can it go on?” she wondered aloud.
“The way it’s twisting and turning, I’d imagine for quite a way. As long as we can feel that breeze, I’m not worried. There’s fresh air coming in somewhere.”
The endless darkness was unnerving. She wondered how spelunkers learned not only to tolerate the sensation of being buried in the bowels of the earth and to endure the oppressive darkness, but to actually enjoy it. This wasn’t for her.
The tunnel evened out again, and Ben called a short break for them to catch their breath. After ten minutes he had them going again.
Jillian had noted the time when they entered the tunnel. She turned her wrist so the flashlight shone on the watch face. They had been walking for fifty-four minutes, minus the ten-minute break—say, forty-five minutes. If they had been setting a fast pace that would have translated to about three miles, but even at their slower rate she estimated they had gone two miles, at least. This was some tunnel. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to cut it out of the heart of the mountain, though it was possible nature had begun the effort and man—or woman—had simply enlarged what was already there.
“Here we go again,” Ben said, and they started climbing another series of wide, shallow steps. Each step was probably no more than an inch or so higher than the one before, but hundreds of them added up, both in height and in the effort it took to climb them.
Then suddenly they turned a curve and there was light ahead. Dim light, barely distinguishable, but there. As they neared, they could see that this opening was overgrown every bit as much as the other one had been, covered by thick lianas and bushes. This entrance was as wide as the tunnel itself, but there was still room for only one man when that one man was swinging a machete. Ben set his backpack down and began slashing with the lethal, razor-edged weapon, hacking their way out of the tunnel with brute force. The sunlight poured in, brighter and brighter.
Then they were outside again, pushing aside broad leaves that slapped at their faces, slicing away trailing vines. After the darkness of the tunnel they had to shade their eyes until their vision could adjust to the sunshine.
What they saw looked pretty much like what had been on the other end of the tunnel.
“Now what?” Rick asked in disgust. “Where do we go from here?”
Jillian was turning around and around. They seemed to be in a kind of bowl, with rock walls encircling them. Her trained eye picked out detail after detail, and a swelling sensation grew in her chest until she thought she would burst. She caught Ben’s eye, and knew that he had seen the same things, but suddenly he was looking dead serious while she wanted to whoop and scream her delight.
“We don’t go anywhere,” she finally managed to say, her voice shaking with strain. “We’re here. We’ve found the Stone City.”
14
Rick looked around again. “This is it?” he demanded, obviously disappointed.
“Unless I miss my guess,” she said. There was no guess to it; she knew what she was seeing. The stone walls surrounding them were honeycombed with chambers. The entrances had long ago been overtaken by the jungle, but she could still make out shapes and a certain regularity to the growth pattern of the vines.
“So where’s this treasure you talked about?” he demanded.
She drew a deep breath. “If there is a treasure, it could be anywhere. We might not be the only ones to have found this.”
Kates strode forward, scowling. “What do you mean, if there’s a treasure? Why the hell do you think we came along? If you lied to us—”
Ben was suddenly at her side. “No one knows what’s here,” he said, his tone even but underlaid with a note of menace that halted Kates. “A lot can happen in four hundred years.”
“What do we do now?” Rick asked.
“Make camp. That’s the most important thing. This place isn’t going anywhere, that’s for sure.”
Jillian was almost eaten alive with impatience to start exploring, but she knew Ben was right. First they hacked out a huge clearing, putting her on tenterhooks that they might carelessly destroy some ancient artifact, but nothing went down under the flashing blades except bushes and vines and small trees. There were no extremely tall trees in the bowl, and she wondered why. There was plenty of sunlight, but the vegetation, though thick, didn’t seem to grow to any great height. The reason behind this oddity, whatever it was, was part of the differences of the Anzar, and she could barely wait to begin discovering their secrets.
The tents were set up farther apart than they had been on the trail. She felt it too: a strange sense of security. They were safe here in this protected bowl. Ben, however, made certain her tent was placed right next to his.
She would not have expected any wind, enclosed as they were on all sides, but a light breeze seemed to swirl continually and the air was amazingly comfortable, almost cool. It would probably be distinctly chilly at night.
“Everyone watch where you step, please,” she begged. “There could be bowls, pots, anything, just lying around.” Any artifact would most likely be covered by hundreds of years of accumulated dirt, but she had seen them just lying on the ground, too.
There was still plenty of light left, and after the camp was set up, Ben slipped his arm around her waist. “Take a walk with me,” he said, softly cajoling.
She gave him a s
uspicious glance. “Why?”
“We need to talk.”
“About . . . ?” she prompted.
He sighed. “Damn if you’re not the most untrusting woman I’ve ever met. Just come on, will you?”
“All right,” she said grudgingly. “But don’t get the idea I’m agreeing to anything else.”
He sighed again. “When have you ever?”
Walking in the thick undergrowth wasn’t easy; he carried the machete and carved out a path as they went. After a few minutes Jillian said, “Is there a point in this? Or did you just want some exercise?”
He looked back to make certain no one was behind them. They were well out of earshot, and anyone trying to slip through the brush would alert them. “It gets sticky from here on out,” he said. “I’ve dropped a quiet word in the men’s ears to watch out for Kates and Dutra. If anything starts happening, I want them to scatter, to get out any way they can. I figure we’re still fairly safe, unless you do find some huge red gem of some sort, though gold is more likely and would get us killed just as fast.”
“I know.” She understood the ramifications of having actually found the Stone City, and despite what she had said earlier, she didn’t think it had already been plundered. They were likely the only humans to have been inside this isolated bowl since the Anzar had died out.
“Playtime’s over. Keep your pistol with you at all times.”
“I will. I understand.”
“If anything starts going down, don’t wait to see how it turns out. Hightail it to the tunnel and get the hell out. Run as fast as you can and don’t stop for anything. I’ll catch up with you on the outside. Whatever you do, don’t let yourself get trapped in here. This place makes me uneasy, with only one way out. I hope to hell I can find another exit.”
“I don’t think it’s likely. That tunnel is what kept the Anzar so well hidden.”
“And it didn’t work, did it?” he demanded. “They died out anyway.”
“I wonder what happened to them.” She couldn’t help it; her eyes began to glisten with tears. “It isn’t just that this will vindicate Dad. A special tribe lived here, and one day they just disappeared. Finding out about them is . . . important.”
“Probably disease, if they had any contact with Europeans.” He wriggled his eyebrows, having been serious as long as he could. “Or maybe, if they really were all women, they died of boredom.”
She glowered at him. “Sometimes I’d like to punch you in the nose.”
“Any time you want to get physical with me, sweetheart, just let me know. I’d be glad to wrestle with you any day.” He was grinning in that way that irritated her so much, as cocky as it was possible for a man to get.
“Do you know what you are?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes at him.
“No, what? A stud? The light of your life? The man of your dreams?”
“A turd,” she said distinctly, and stalked away from him, leaving him bellowing with laughter.
Under her direction, the exploration of the Stone City began the next day with slow caution. More underbrush had to be cleared so they could find a way up to the almost obscured chambers, and as they worked, small pieces of the Anzar’s daily lives began to turn up. Joaquim found a section of chipped stone tile that, when more of it had been carefully uncovered, seemed to be part of a fountain. Jillian photographed it from every angle and made meticulous notes.
Shards of pottery began to turn up, and those too were photographed and cataloged. She had never been happier in her life. They weren’t making history; they were uncovering it, learning about a hitherto unknown aspect of man’s life on earth. When she handled a broken piece of pottery that still bore a glazed design, she was awestruck that someone hundreds of years before had molded it, made it pretty so it would decorate their lives, used it day after day. It was like holding time in her hands, and it was oddly comforting. Individuals died, but life continued.
Strangely enough, it was Dutra who, four days later, found the first inclined pathway up to the chambers. He had no interest in broken old pots, but after his confrontation with Ben he had, without argument, used his brute strength to clear out huge patches of underbrush. He poured his aggression into physical exertion, taking out his hostility on any branch or vine that got in his way.
The incline, after centuries of disuse, had begun to crumble. It was covered with debris, but there was no mistaking its use. They began immediately to clear it off, though Jillian nagged them into a caution that slowed the work again. The incline led up to what seemed to be a wide avenue that circled the bowl, with chambers leading off of it. Since there were other chambers on higher levels, she guessed there were inclines connecting each level. The Stone City had been built in concentric layers, capable of housing thousands of people.
The avenue was as buried under debris as the incline had been and she suspected there were thousands of artifacts under there, but the main interest was in getting inside the chambers. The chambers were where the Anzar had lived, and they would hold the greatest riches. She knew that her idea of riches was different from that of the others, but the physical record of the Anzar was beyond price to her.
Animals had gotten into the chambers, of course. Birds had nested within, and various other creatures had used the shelters over the years. It would be wonderful if everything had been kept pristine, she thought, surveying the first chamber, but nature wasn’t tidy.
That first chamber was small, no more than eight feet square, and though she carefully sifted through the debris she could find no hint of how the room might have been used, at least not on initial examination. There didn’t seem to be any of the pottery that would have indicated cooking, or even a method of cooking. Nothing that looked like a brazier or fireplace, no soot or charcoal. All she found was a small snake that immediately slithered for cover when she disturbed its resting place with the stick she was using to probe the litter.
She refused to let herself be disappointed. There were hundreds of these small chambers; not all of them would be as empty. Finding nothing was as much a part of an archaeologist’s job as finding something, though not nearly as emotionally satisfying or as exciting. She photographed the room and logged it into the journal.
Ben stuck his head in. “Don’t poke around in these rooms by yourself,” he said irritably.
“Why? Do you think there might be snakes?” she asked, opening her eyes wide.
“I damn well know there are snakes; you just haven’t seen any yet.”
She resumed raking the litter with her stick. “Of course I have. One little guy beat a retreat just before you came in.”
Ben’s jaw set, and for a minute temper glittered in his eyes. Then he relaxed and gave her a wry grin. “I keep forgetting you’re an old hand at this. So you’re not afraid of snakes?”
“No. I’m cautious, but not afraid.”
“Snakes aren’t the only danger you could find in a place like this.”
“Agreed.”
“You don’t intend to pay the least bit of attention to me, do you?” he asked in exasperation. “You’re going to continue just blithely walking into these rooms.”
“It’s my job.”
“And my job is keeping you safe. From now on, if I’m not with you, one of the men will be.”
“Fine with me,” she said absently.
She really wasn’t paying any attention to him, he thought. She was absorbed in poking around with that stick, squatting to examine some detail, her entire being focused on what she was doing. It was maddening, but he felt an odd softening as he watched her. That was just Jillian. She loved this stuff and tended to ignore everything else when she was involved. All he could do was watch out for her as best he could and remember that she was the most capable woman he’d ever met. She knew what she was doing, and she was solidly grounded in reality.
He couldn’t help being dismayed that they had actually found this place. He would have liked it much better if she had been forc
ed to admit that it didn’t exist; that would have bitterly disappointed her, but all of them would have been much safer. As it was, he felt as if they were sitting on top of a volcano that could erupt at any minute. Everything seemed calm enough at the moment, but if that damn Empress was found, or any gold, the game would change. It never hurt to be ready for anything, so he had already made certain preparations and plans. If nothing happened, he would carry on as usual.
Since he wanted to keep an eye on Kates and Dutra, he assigned Jorge to stay with Jillian and help her, both for her safety and because her shoulder was still a little swollen. He didn’t want her to use it any more than necessary.
Jillian was happy to have Jorge for company. He was pleasant, and a tireless worker. He wasn’t enthusiastic about the broken pots and odd scraps that she found, but he was perfectly content to help her look for them.
Other chambers, happily, did contain more than the first one. She was extremely careful about noting the specifics of each find: the location, the description, the condition. She wouldn’t be able to carry much, if anything, out of here, and she didn’t want to destroy any evidence that would help in unraveling the puzzle of the Anzar and determining their level of advancement. The glazed and painted shards of pottery she had found so far indicated that they’d used a kiln, but she hadn’t found any sign of one. It would take a long time to find and piece together the artifacts and evidence that would define the Anzar.
Kates became more impatient as each day passed without finding anything other than what he called “junk.”
Jillian too was becoming, if not impatient, a bit disturbed at finding nothing else. Had the site been cleaned out long ago by scavengers? If so, they might never be able to learn much about the Anzar by what had been left.
She was carefully sifting through yet another pile of debris when she realized she had done something monumentally stupid. In the excitement of finding the tunnel, and what was surely the Stone City, she had forgotten about the instructions.