The Oracle (Fargo Adventures 11)

– AFRICAN PROVERB –

Nasha had been excited about the find, until she realized how long it would take to do the excavation just to find the hidden steps—assuming they really existed. Suddenly the prospect of returning to Nigeria with her uncle seemed far more tantalizing than the countless days of carefully removing centuries of dirt and crumbling ruins just to find them. When it came time for her and her uncle to leave for the airport an hour later, she didn’t protest.

Standing just inside the terminal, Remi was faced with saying good-bye to her. But unlike their previous parting at the school, this time when Nasha hugged Remi her face was filled with joy. “You won’t forget me, will you, Mrs. Fargo?”

“How could I?” Remi said. “You stole a piece of my heart.”

“No I didn’t. You gave it to me.”

Remi’s throat closed up, and it was a moment before she could speak. “Keep it safe for me?”

Nasha pulled her backpack from her shoulder, patting it. “Right here.”

“Nasha,” her uncle said. “It’s time.”

She nodded, then followed her uncle toward security, turning back to wave at Remi and Sam just before they disappeared into the crowd.

Remi leaned her head into Sam’s shoulder as they left the terminal.

“We’ll see them again,” he said.

“I know. Soon, I hope.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out. “This should help distract me from that ache in my heart. Renee thinks they may have found the secret entrance. Looks like home will have to wait.”

Ground-penetrating radar helped Renee’s team map the actual remains of the chamber hidden beneath the ancient mudslide. Once they’d removed several feet of dirt from that side of the temple, they were able to get to the pedestal belonging to the fallen penultimate column. The entire process of working the site was slow and tedious, but when they had uncovered the base, they found that the marble flooring was darker and cracked, whereas the rest of the temple floor appeared to be yellow marble, all still intact.

José documented their progress with photos and a measuring rod. Once he’d finished, he helped Sam, Lazlo, and Osmond carefully lift the top half of the broken slab and then the bottom. Crumbling stairs led down beneath the temple into a tunnel carved from the rock.

Remi moved next to Sam, staring into the narrow passage below the temple floor, while José took more photos. He stepped back and Sam turned on the flashlight, holding his hand out to Remi. “Shall we?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

They led the group downward, Sam’s flashlight reflecting off inscriptions carved in the rock walls much like the ones they’d found in the cavern hidden behind the ivy. They followed the passageway beneath the temple and eventually emerged into a cavern much larger than Amal’s. At first, it appeared empty, until Sam lowered the beam of his flashlight. Two chests sat at the far wall, the wood rotted, the contents partially spilling out to the cavern floor. The near-black patina of the tarnished silver plates, goblets, and bowls made it difficult to see the exquisite workmanship hammered around the edges. The other chest held spoons and a few pieces of jewelry, also tarnished with age.

“Okay, so not a king’s ransom,” Renee said.

“But a worthy find nonetheless,” Lazlo replied.

Remi moved closer. “So why would the Vandal King hide it?”

“Perhaps,” Lazlo said, “it was hidden from the Vandals when they invaded North Africa.”

“We may never know,” Sam said.

“Amal, look at that.” Remi pointed to the other side of the cavern. Sam aimed his light at a square oxidized-bronze charcoal burner. “That looks like it matches the lid on your mantel.”

As they moved closer, they noticed a tall, lidded cylindrical vessel made of bronze, standing behind it. Simple in structure, there were no markings anywhere on its surface except a Greek inscription in chased silver on the lid that read

Alítheia kai armonía.

“Truth and harmony,” Remi translated.

Lazlo moved closer. “Truth—from Parmenides’ poem ‘On Nature,’ perhaps?”

Amal took a breath. “If my grandmother’s stories are correct, this is what we were meant to protect.”

Renee, her attention on the vessel, circled around it and the charcoal burner, leaning in close. “Exquisite. We need photos, José.”

He opened his camera bag and set up his tripod and took photos from several angles around both artifacts. When he finished, Renee examined the taller vessel. “The moment of reckoning. Who wants to open it?”