Map of Bones (Sigma Force 2)

Rachel spoke quickly. “The mazes in all the cathedrals. They represented symbolic journeys. From this world to the next. To spiritual enlightenment in the center.” She pointed to the dead body, cut in half at the waist, the height of the mirrored windows. “But to reach there, pilgrims crawled. On hands and knees.”

Gray nodded. “Below the level of these windows.”

Across the floor, her uncle groaned, seated on the floor, blood seeping between his fingers. Seichan sat with him. Rachel knew it wasn’t the pain that elicited the moaned response. She saw it in her uncle’s eyes. He had already figured out this last riddle, too. But he had kept silent.

By speaking, Rachel had betrayed the future, risking the world.

Her eyes found Gray. She had made her choice. With no regret.

Even Raoul believed her.

He waved for Gray to hand over the key. “I’ll take it there myself—but you’re going first.”

Plainly Raoul did not have full trust in her idea. Gray passed him the key.

“As a matter of fact,” Raoul said, pointing his gun at Rachel, “since it’s your idea, why don’t you come along, too? To help keep your man honest.”

Rachel stumbled forward. Her hands were cut free. She crouched down with Gray. He nodded to her, transmitting a silent message.

We’ll be okay.

She had little reason to feel confident, but she nodded back.

“Let’s get going,” Raoul said.

Gray went first, crawling out onto the maze without hesitation, fully trusting in Rachel’s assessment.

She was held back by Raoul until Gray was a full body-length away.

The glass floor remained quiet.

“Okay, now you,” she was ordered.

Rachel set out, following Gray’s path. She felt a vibration through her palms. The face of the glass was warm. As she moved, she heard a distant hum, not mechanical or electric, more like the murmur of a vast crowd across a distance. Maybe it was the blood rushing through her ears, pounded by her worried heart.

Raoul yelled behind her to his men. “Shoot any of the others if they move! The same goes for the two out here. Upon my orders, take them out.”

So if the maze didn’t kill them, Raoul would.

Rachel continued onward. With only one hope.

Gray.

7:49 A.M.

RENDE PLACED a hand on the demolition expert’s shoulder. “Are the charges primed?”

“All sixteen of them,” the man answered. “Just tap this button three times. The grenades are daisy-chained on a ten-minute fuse.”

Perfect.

He turned to the row of sixteen men. Other wheelbarrows stood out in the hall, waiting to be loaded. Five handtrucks also stood ready. The first truck had been carefully backed to the main gate, and the second was on its way. It was time to empty the vault.

“Get to work, men. Double time.”

7:50 A.M.

GRAY’S KNEES ached.

Three-quarters around the maze, it became torture on his kneecaps. The smooth glass now felt like rough concrete. But he dared not stop. Not until he reached the center.

As he made his turns around the circuit, he crossed alongside the neighboring paths with Rachel and Raoul. It would only take a hip check to knock Raoul off his path. Even Raoul suspected this, pointing his gun at Gray’s face as they passed.

But there was no need for the caution. Gray knew if he crossed the platinum etched lines with even a hand or a hip, he’d be killed as quickly as Raoul. And with the glass face activated, Rachel would probably be electrocuted, too.

So he let Raoul pass unmolested.

When he crossed paths with Rachel, their eyes remained fixed upon each other. Neither spoke. A bond had grown between them, one built on danger and trust. Gray’s heart ached with every pass: to hold her, to comfort her. But there was no stopping.

Around and around they went.

A droning grew inside his head, vibrating up the bones of his arms and legs. He also heard a commotion above. In the cathedral. Soldiers involved in some activity up there.

He ignored it all and crawled onward.

After a final turn, a straight shot led to the center rosette. Gray hurried forward, glad to reach home base at last. With his knees on fire, he lunged the last distance and sprawled onto his back.

The droning grew into a murmuring just beyond the range of the audible. He sat up, his hairs vibrating with the noise. What the hell…?

Rachel appeared and crawled toward him. Staying low, he helped her into the center. She slipped into his arms. “Gray…what are we—?”

He knelt with her and squeezed her silent.

There was only one hope.

A slim one.

Raoul appeared and crawled over to them. He wore a huge grin. “The Dragon Court owes you both for your generous service.” He pointed his gun. “Now stand up.”

“What?” Gray asked.

“You heard me. Stand up. Both of you.”

With no choice, Gray tried to pull himself out of Rachel’s arms, but she clung to him. “Let me first,” he whispered.

“Together,” she answered.

Gray met her eyes and saw her determination.

“Trust me,” she said.

Gray took a deep breath, and the two of them stood up. Gray expected to be cut in half, but the floor remained quiet.

“A safe zone,” Rachel said. “In the center of the star. The lasers never crossed this part.”

Gray kept his arm around Rachel. It fit like it belonged there.

“Keep back or you’ll be shot,” Raoul warned. He stood up next, stretched a kink, and reached into a pocket. “Now to see what prize you delivered to us.”

Raoul pulled out the key, bent down, and shoved it into the keyhole.

“A perfect fit,” Raoul mumbled.

Gray pulled Rachel tighter into his arms, fearful of what would happen next, certain of only one thing.

In her ear, he whispered the secret he had been holding from everyone since Alexandria.

“The key’s a fake.”

7:54 A.M.

GENERAL RENDE had come down to oversee the first load of treasure. They could not take everything, so someone had to perform triage, pick the choicest bits of antiquity, art, and ancient texts. He stood near the landing with inventory pad in hand. His men crawled along the topmost tier of the massive structure.

Then a strange rumble vibrated through the cavern.

It wasn’t an earthquake.

More like something shook all his senses at once. His balance shifted a few degrees off kilter. His hearing roared. His skin chilled like someone had just walked over his grave. But worst of all, his vision shimmered. It was like the world became a bad television picture tube, fritzing the screen image, playing with perspective. Three dimensions dissolved to a flat two.