“Absolutely. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Lazlo led them into the chamber next to the one they’d been in and pointed to the pictograph. “See? The dignitaries are positioned differently, and so are the landmarks. That pyramid is more to the right.”
Sam frowned. “That could be natural variation. Just a result of the materials available or the artist. Meaningless.”
“True. But now let’s go into the next room. You’ll see yet another slight difference.”
“If the artists were carving from an illustration, as they most likely were, there’s probably no significance to any of it,” Antonio said from the threshold.
“Normally, I’d agree with you. But humor me. Let’s go to the next one.”
Everyone filed into the third vault, where two lamps bathed the carvings in light.
“Yet more variation, do you see?”
Remi nodded slowly and took several photos. “I do. But what does it mean?”
Lazlo’s face cracked into a wry grin. “That’s really the question, isn’t it? To know the answer, you have to get a little lost.”
Sam and Remi exchanged a puzzled glance.
“Sorry. I’m not following you,” Sam said.
“I wanted to confirm my suspicion, so I went to look at the fourth tomb. There, in the dark antechamber, I could make out carvings on the wall at nearly ceiling height—above eye level. There was no lamp, which made it hard to see, so I borrowed Antonio’s penlight. And what do you think it was?”
Sam shook his head. “GPS coordinates?”
“Ha. Close. Come. Have a look.”
He led them into the narrow stone corridor to the far tomb and stopped before entering. Remi directed her penlight beam at the carving Lazlo was pointing at. “Look familiar?” he asked.
“It’s the procession again.”
“Indeed it is. Except look closer. Do you see something that isn’t in any of the larger carvings?”
Sam stepped nearer to Remi, nodding.
“We’ll I’ll be . . .”
Remi looked up at Sam’s profile, realization written across her face.
“Those are planets and stars.”
Lazlo nodded like a proud father. “Yes, they are. And with the celestial waypoints, we should be able to decipher where the true location of the tomb lies.”
Back in the second tomb, Antonio gestured at the procession pictograph. “In this one, there are faint outlines of the moon and several stars, too. But almost as an afterthought.”
“Yes, as there are in one of the others. Only the constellations are as different as the drawings, I’m afraid,” Lazlo confirmed.
“Then I don’t understand. How will we know which of the depictions is the correct one?”
Lazlo stood mute for a moment, thinking. “I can’t help but believe that the repeated pictograph has meaning. I’m guessing that it’s an astronomical depiction—a clue to those who were adept at reading the stars. Maybe . . . Maybe the reason that the position of the landmarks is different in each rendition is because the images are representations of the same thing at different times of the year. Major events. Summer solstice, winter solstice . . .”
“How will we decide?” Remi asked.
Lazlo’s eyes widened. “You have images of the manuscript and the pictographs from Cuba, right?”
“Of course. But they’re back at the motel.”