The instructions hadn’t ended with the tunnel. There were other directions, which presumably would lead her straight to the Empress.
She halted her work and smiled at Jorge. “I think I’ll stop for the day,” she said. “My shoulder is bothering me and I’m tired.”
“You should rest,” he said with the shy concern he had often shown.
“I will,” she said, and returned to the camp. Most of the men were already there, having grown bored with clearing an access route to those small chambers that seemed to be so much alike and produced nothing exciting. She was half a day behind them in going through the chambers, so it didn’t matter. Ben was there, sitting cross-legged on the ground while he cleaned and oiled his weapons. Alerted to her presence by some sixth sense, he looked around at her. She smiled at him but didn’t make any effort to converse, instead going to her tent.
Ben continued with his task, but his expression was thoughtful. During their weeks together he had formed the habit of watching Jillian, closely studying her in an effort to find some little chink in her armor of capability that would allow him to get to her. He had become an expert on picking up the slightest deviation in her behavior, and now all of his senses were alert. She was up to something, but what?
Jillian sat cross-legged in her tent, the coded instructions on the floor in front of her and the notebook open in her lap. Though she had memorized the instructions weeks ago, actually writing them down in English still helped to clarify her thoughts. Then she stared at what she had written for a long time. A sound just outside the tent alerted her and she swiftly tucked the sheet of paper under her sleep pad.
Ben opened the flap and crawled in, crowding her backward. “Come on in,” she said sarcastically.
“Thanks.” He winked at her. “I did. Okay, what’s going on?”
He settled himself beside her, and she had the distinct impression that he wasn’t going to budge until he had a satisfactory answer. That playful wink was merely camouflage for his iron determination.
She pulled out the sheet of notebook paper and gave it to him. “I remembered that there were more instructions, that they didn’t end with finding the tunnel.” She made certain her voice was so low that they couldn’t be overheard from outside.
Ben read what she had written. “What are you going to do about this?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed, her indecision reflected in her eyes. “What I’ve found so far isn’t exactly earthshaking, certainly not on the level with King Tut’s tomb or the Ouosalla find. I’ve found proof that humans lived here, but nothing, absolutely nothing, to indicate that they were an unknown tribe. We have a miracle of a tunnel leading in here, but not much else. Oh, archaeologists will be interested, and eventually someone will fund a dig here, but I haven’t found anything that’s going to grab any headlines. I wanted something that would set archaeology on its ear, force them to give Dad the credit due him, and I haven’t found anything that dramatic.”
He lifted the paper. “Unless it’s here.”
“Yeah.”
“And finding it could mean big trouble for us.”
“Yeah,” she repeated gloomily.
He cupped her chin and lifted it, a wry smile on his face as he looked at her for a moment. Then he leaned over and kissed her. “So I’ll look for the jewel while you keep the bad guys diverted,” he murmured. “If the Empress is there, I’ll let you know and then we can decide what to do. No point in worrying yourself sick about the gem when it might not even exist.”
“Oh, it exists.”
“Then there’s a good chance someone else carried it out of here centuries ago. People just don’t leave huge gems lying around, even if there are superstitions attached. The Empress doesn’t even have a good threatening curse to go with it.”
“It could be a real curse for us, though.”
“We’ll make that decision later. Even if the thing isn’t there, I might find something else you’ll like. Who knows? Maybe these people hid all their interesting stuff away.”
“They sure did, from what I can tell.”
“Then we’ll find out tomorrow.”
She bit her lip as she stared at him. A month ago she wouldn’t have trusted him with her lunch, much less something as important as this. Since then she had gotten into the habit of trusting him with her life. As her life was infinitely more important than the Empress, she didn’t see any point in refusing to trust him to search for the gem.
“You’ll be careful?” she whispered. “Make certain no one is following you?”
“I promise. And if I find anything, you’ll be the first one to know.”
Ben didn’t do anything unusual the next morning. He went with the others up to the first tier of chambers and helped clear out several more, then left Jillian and Jorge poking around while they returned to the camp. Kates seldom let Jillian out of his sight these days, so he had remained above. Ben busied himself around the camp doing several small chores, then settled down in the shade as if ready for a nap. Dutra, after eating lunch, did go to sleep.
When the snores were issuing from Dutra’s barrel chest with loud regularity, Ben got up, draped the shotgun across his shoulder as he always did, even though they hadn’t found anything more dangerous than snakes in here, and ambled out of the camp. None of the others paid any particular attention to him. He had taken the precaution the night before of stashing his flashlight in a spot away from the camp, and he retrieved it, hoping he wouldn’t need it.
They had begun their explorations, naturally enough, at the areas closest to the camp. Jillian’s code placed the Empress in a special chamber directly across from the tunnel opening. When he studied the bowl, he saw that its far edge was slightly higher, giving him a visual reference once he was out of sight of the tunnel. The bowl was at least a mile wide and half again that in length; the floor was choked with trees and undergrowth. Those trees bothered him, for some reason. Why weren’t they bigger? With so much sunlight flooding the bowl, there should have been some real giants in here. Though it rained every day, the heavy rains couldn’t erode the soil as they did in the Amazon plain; the soil was retained in the bowl.
And just how did the water drain out? It had to, or the floor of the bowl would be a lake, instead of the very rich soil beneath his boots. The richness of the soil made the size of the trees even more puzzling.
Unless the trees weren’t very old.
He stopped in his tracks and stared at one lustrous hardwood, and a chill ran up his spine. Now, that was a spooky thought. Had the floor of the bowl been free of vegetation until the fairly recent past? Had the Anzar disappeared only a couple of decades, rather than centuries, ago?
Nah. Impossible. If they had been here that recently, there would have been a lot more evidence than what Jillian had been finding.
Unless they had moved out and taken most of their stuff with them.
He shook himself. He had to stop thinking like that. Just take care of the business at hand, which was finding the place indicated in Jillian’s notes.
Crossing the floor of the bowl was hard work, for he didn’t want to use the machete and leave a path even Kates could follow, but he figured it worked out about even, since slashing his way through would be hard work, too. He stopped occasionally to make certain he wasn’t being followed and that used up time, too, but he made it to the other side of the bowl within an hour.
This close, he could see a cleft in the rock face, but getting up there would be a problem. There should be one of those inclines carved into the side of the cliff, if the pattern was carried out, so he began a systematic search for it. It had to be his lucky day, because he found it in only a few minutes.
He worked his way up it and at the top noticed something different: unlike the other inclines they had found, this was a double one; another incline rose from the opposite direction to meet this one in an inverted V at the first tier.
Directly ahead, according to Jillian’s instructio
ns, and built into the cleft, was the temple of the Anzar. He looked up, and another chill ran down his spine. Soaring high above his head were huge stone columns, carved out of the cliff itself. They were almost totally obscured by vines, but enough of the shape showed through for him to tell what they were.
He approached and began searching through the thick, living green veil for the entrance, thrusting a long stick into the vegetation. When the stick hit solid rock, he moved a foot to the side and thrust again. On the fourth try the stick poked into nothingness, and he knew he’d found what he was looking for.
He’d need the flashlight after all. He parted the vines with his hand and held them to the side, then switched on the light and played it over the enormous chamber revealed within. What he saw made him curse softly.
Statues. Oh, goddamn. Big statues, carved out of stone. The figures were larger than life-size, maybe seven feet tall before they were placed on the pedestals that supported them. Overall, they reached about ten feet.
The workmanship was superb, surpassing anything he had seen done by either the Incas or the Mayas, though the styles were similar. The features were less exaggerated, the proportions more normal. The chills were chasing up and down his spine big time now, and he became aware that he was holding his breath. He forced himself to exhale, but he couldn’t shake off the almost overwhelming sense of awe and disbelief.
The statues were of warriors. Each was armed with a different weapon, some with spears, some with a bow and a quiver of arrows, some with clubs.
And they were all female.
15
He advanced even more cautiously than before, thrusting his way through the tangle of vines to stand in the cool darkness. He felt as if he were intruding, as if the blank eyes looking down on him knew he didn’t belong. He was a man, alien to these halls. He’d never had this feeling before, even when on one memorable occasion he had followed a woman into the ladies’ room.
Well, Jillian had her stupendous find. Even without the Empress, these statues would set the world on its ear, and not just archaeologists. Historians would be salivating to see these, to figure out just what their existence meant.
There were no booby traps, no crumbling floors. Solid rock lay beneath his feet. He simply walked down the middle of the immense hall carved out of stone, between the two rows of female warriors who stood eternal guard.
It was located in an alcove at the end. A sepulcher, also carved in stone. Covered with dust and cobwebs, as was everything in this silent hall. The likeness of a man was graven in bas-relief on the top. And above the sepulcher, in a niche by itself, was another guard. There, glowing even through the dust of unknown years, reflecting back the light of his flashlight in a red glitter that took his breath away, was the Empress.
It was huge, bigger than his fist, and roughly the shape of a human heart.
A fortune was staring him in the face. He knew something about diamonds, having lived in Brazil as long as he had, and this sure looked like one. He supposed there was a possibility it was a garnet, but he didn’t think it was. There was too much fire, too much depth. It had been crudely cut, but even so, it was magnificent. Most colored diamonds were pale; the intensely colored ones were extremely rare, usually very small, and very expensive. He’d heard that red diamonds were the rarest diamond of all, and here he was staring at one that was not only a deep, rich red but had to be as big as the Cullinan, if not bigger. The gem was literally priceless.
But was it worth their lives? If Kates found out about this, there would be a killing. He’d either have to kill Kates and Dutra or risk not only his life and Jillian’s but also the life of every man with them.
On the other hand, if he was the only one who knew about it . . .
He squeezed behind the sepulcher, shining the flashlight around to make certain the area was uninhabited. It wasn’t. A snake was curled in a corner, sleeping off its last mouse meal. He prodded it with the stick and watched it slither quietly away. Then he reached up and carefully removed the Empress from its resting place.
It was surprisingly heavy; he guessed its weight at over a pound. He blew the dust off, then polished it on his pants, and the deep, rich red gleamed with a fire that enchanted him and drew him down into its spell. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, warm where most diamonds were icy.
Jillian didn’t need the Empress to attract world attention; those statues out there would accomplish that. She wasn’t doing it for the money anyway; if she had the Empress, and if they made it back to Manaus alive, she would just turn it over to the Brazilian government. But, God, what he could do with it! This thing meant more money than he could even imagine. He could buy his own boats and set up a charter service, maybe even venture into air charter. He’d gotten his pilot’s license years ago, because many places in the Amazon were accessible only by air, and he’d seen the possibilities there. And he’d be able to provide Jillian with anything her little heart desired for the rest of her life. Not that she desired much. What did you buy a woman who was happiest digging around in dirt? More dirt?
His conscience didn’t even whimper. He slipped the stone inside his shirt and carefully blew on the niche where it had rested, to redistribute the dust and cover the fact that something had been there until very recently. It wasn’t as if he were looting a grave or destroying artifacts. If he had found the sucker while mining, no one would object to his profiting by it, and given the fact that their lives depended on how well he could keep it hidden—hell, that was no choice at all.
He looked carefully around. Any other kind of treasure could endanger them just as much as the Empress would. But he saw no gold, silver, or other gems. So far, so good. He would have felt better if he could have taken a closer look, but he didn’t want to visibly disturb anything. Taking care of the last detail, he carefully obliterated his footprints behind the sepulcher.
He needed to get back. Jillian would be on edge, waiting for him. Not that she would let anyone else see her agitation, but she would sure let him know about it if she thought he had taken his own sweet time. He smiled, thinking of her excitement when he told her about the statues. Those green eyes would positively glow, and her face would get that absorbed, ecstatic look that both fascinated him and drove him crazy with desire, because he wanted to see that look on her face when he made love to her. He wanted her to want him with the same passion she showed for clearing her father’s name and for finding broken pots and old bones.
The statues remained on guard as he walked between them, down the echoing hall toward the dim arch of light that marked the entrance.
On the way back, he reconsidered walking into the camp with the stone hidden under his shirt. The thing was too damn big. Instead he carefully wrapped it in his handkerchief and buried it in the same place where he’d earlier hidden the flashlight. He would retrieve it later, when he could better conceal it.
Jillian was sitting outside her tent when he returned. She lifted her head immediately, but she didn’t say anything.
“Where the hell have you been?” Kates snapped. “It’s your rule that no one leaves without telling anyone where they’re going.”
Ben ignored him and instead said to Jillian, “I found the temple.”
She leaped to her feet, eyes blazing with excitement. “What’s it like? Is it in good shape?”
“Sweetheart,” he slowly replied, “it’s something you have to see to believe.”
Everyone was crowding around, and Kates grabbed him by the arm. “What did you find?”
“A temple,” he repeated. “Statues. Shit like that.”
Jillian’s mouth formed the word. Statues.
Kates looked impatient. “Anything else?”
“A tomb, I guess. No treasures or anything like that, if that’s what you’re asking.” The lie fell easily from Ben’s lips.
He figured that the lack of treasure didn’t matter to Jillian one whit, if the look on her face was anything to go by. Her express
ion was that of a kid at Christmas. He laughed suddenly and jerked her into his arms, swinging her around. “Want to see it?” he asked. “If we hurry, we can get there and back before dark.”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than she was struggling to be put down. “I need my camera,” she babbled. “And my notebook. They’re in my tent. Just let me get them and I’ll be ready—”
“Okay, okay,” he said soothingly. “Calm down. The temple isn’t going anywhere. I keep telling you that, but you don’t listen.”
They all went, even Dutra, and this time they used the machetes to clear the way, making future trips easier.
“What kind of statues?” Rick asked. “Kinda small?”
Ben wondered what he was hoping for, a statuette like the Oscar, only made of gold? “No, they’re pretty big. Carved from stone.”
“Oh.” Rick’s disappointment was evident.
“I didn’t snoop around much,” Ben said. “There may be some smaller stuff in a side chamber, but I didn’t see anything.” God, he hoped there wasn’t any smaller stuff. It was a risk he had to take, because keeping the temple from Jillian’s knowledge wasn’t something he was prepared to do.
When they were close enough to make out the columns, Jillian bit her lip to hold back a gasp. She was standing so close to him that Ben could feel her shaking. He put his arm around her waist and held her close to his side.
Vicente slashed his machete at the vines covering the entrance, and they fell to his feet in coils, like so many green snakes. The arch of light penetrated deeper into the hall. Ben turned on his flashlight and ushered Jillian inside. The others eagerly followed.
He let the light beam slowly play along the ten-foot figures. Jillian clutched his arm, her fingernails digging into the skin. She was utterly silent, her disbelieving gaze locked on the statues.