Excavation

Soon two large men in blue suits appeared at the open door. They flashed identification and entered. “We’ve called the police. They’ll be here in a moment to take a statement. Another room is already being prepared for you.”

Henry turned to Joan. “Why don’t you head home. I can take care of matters here.”

“I suppose I’d better. But tomorrow bring the crucifix with you to the lab. I’ll have Dr. Kirkpatrick look it over. He’ll know for sure if it’s gold or not.”

Henry looked about the room with a forlorn expression. “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

She moved to leave, but he stopped her with a touch on her arm. She turned to find him smiling at her. “As weird as this may sound considering the state of my room, I had a nice night.”

She squeezed his hand and held it a fraction longer than professionally necessary. “I did, too.” She returned his smile, if only a bit more shyly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nodded, and as she stepped from the room, he added softly, “I look forward to it.”

Joan didn’t turn, pretending not to have heard, when actually she feared her reddening face would reveal too plainly her heart. Only when she was safely in the elevator and the doors had closed did she let out a long sigh of relief. “Get ahold of yourself,” she warned the empty elevator. “He’s an old friend. That’s all.”

Still as the elevator headed down, a small shiver of pleasure passed through her. Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

As another tumble of rocks echoed down from above, Sam glanced up from where he knelt. His eyes flicked to the others gathered around the three bands of hematite. Norman stared up toward the roof with a small flinch of his shoulders. Ralph only grumbled and continued swathing the yellow dye across his band with a small paintbrush. Denal sat to one side, running his hands slowly up and down the crowbar in his lap.

Only Maggie met his eyes. “The second level must be collapsed by now,” she whispered.

Sam nodded with a deep sigh. None of them wanted to consider what that meant. He glanced to his watch. It was a little after ten in the evening. At this rate, there was little chance the pyramid would remain intact for another two days. To distract from the weight of rock slowly crumbling down upon them, they had attempted to keep busy. Sam’s suggestion that they test his experimental dyes on the hematite bands had been grudgingly accepted.

“Now what?” Ralph asked. He stretched a kink from his back where he bent over his band.

Sam scooted closer. “Next you need to sponge the excess dye gently away with this lipophilic agent.” He passed Ralph a dry sponge and a jar of clear solution.

“I’m ready, too,” Maggie said, and reached for a second sponge.

With Sam directing, the other two students soon had the bands prepped for deciphering. Sam lifted the black Wood’s lamp and switched it on. “Okay, extinguish the flashlight.”

Once done, darkness suddenly collapsed tighter around them. A pool of purplish light was all that stood between them and absolute blackness. Bathed within the glow, the two bands fluoresced a soft green. The group clustered tighter.

“Amazing,” Maggie exclaimed.

Under Sam’s ultraviolet lamp, the ancient writing stood in stark relief, the green lettering glowing brightly, as crisp as the day it had been etched into the metal.

“Cool,” Ralph said, patting Sam on the shoulder.

Holding back his own whoop of pride, Sam ran a finger along the lettering, carefully reading the writing on the first band. “Nos Christi defenete. Malum ne fugat.” Sam concentrated intently as he translated the scrawled Latin. “ ‘Christ protect us. May the evil never escape.’ ” A chill passed down Sam’s spine.

“Not the words you want to hear trapped in a collapsed tomb,” Ralph said.

“Especially when we’re sitting right outside the cursed chamber,” Norman added, eyeing Sam. “What was that you said about the pictograph in the next room? The gateway to Heaven, the gateway to Hell?”

Sam waved the photographer’s fears away. “That’s just a rough interpretation from a Judeo-Christian viewpoint. The ancient Peruvians didn’t believe in a biblical heaven or hell, but in three distinct levels of existence: janan pacha, the upper world; cay pacha, our world; and uca pacha, the lower or interior world. They believed these three worlds were closely linked, and that certain sacred areas, named pacariscas, were where the three worlds came together.” Sam glanced over his shoulder. “From the pictographs next door, I suspect that chamber was revered and protected as a pacariscas.”

Norman stared toward the open doorway to the booby-trapped chamber. “A gateway to both the lower and upper worlds.”

“Exactly.”

Maggie elbowed Sam. “Enough already! Get on with the second band.”

Sam cleared his throat and bent over the etched hematite, this time translating as he ran a finger along the Latin scribblings. “ ‘Lord above, keep us safe. We beseech you. We leave this tomb to Heaven. May it never be disturbed. Beware… ‘ ” Sam read the last two lines and his breath caught in his throat. He leaned away. “Oh, God!”

Maggie leaned nearer. “What?”

Sam glanced at the others. “ ‘Beyond lies the workings of Satan, the will of the Devil. I seal this passage against the Serpent of Eden, lest mankind be damned forever.’ ”

Five pairs of eyes turned to the open doorway.

“The Serpent of Eden?” Norman asked nervously.

Maggie explained, voice hushed. “Genesis. The corrupter of mankind, a tempter of forbidden knowledge.”

“It’s signed,” Sam said, returning their attentions to the hematite bands. “Friar Francisco de Almagro, servant of our Lord, 1535.”

Ralph glanced over Sam’s shoulder. “Didn’t your uncle say he thought the mummy was probably a Dominican friar?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. This may be the fellow’s last written testament. After sealing the tomb here, he must’ve been killed for some reason. But why?” Sam knelt back upon his heels. “What happened here? What was it about the next room that scared the man so much? It couldn’t have just been the booby traps. Not with that reference to the Serpent of Eden.”

Maggie nodded toward the open doorway. “Whatever the answer, it lies in there somewhere, maybe something the Moche discovered and the conquering Incas usurped. Something that spooked the bejesus out of our dead friar.”