Deep Fathom
Basalt and more basalt. No crystals, no indication of any writing.
Mwahu frowned hard at her, then continued to lead them on.
Jack whistled. “This place is massive. You described it, but to see this construction firsthand…It must’ve taken thousands and thousands of people to build this single building, even aided by a pair of the magical brothers.”
Too awed to speak herself, Karen nodded.
They left the huge hall and entered another low passage. The press of stone overhead seemed to weigh down upon Karen’s head. She wasn’t prone to claustrophobia, but there was a certain heaviness about the place that couldn’t be ignored. The passage turned sharply and sunlight flared ahead.
Mwahu led them into a rear courtyard. Karen stepped back into the brilliance of the sunlight—and the heat. Miyuki shook open her umbrella again.
Around the space, the once-tall walls lay toppled. Lengths of cracked basalt logs were tumbled amid boulders and smaller rocks. Still, the solemnity of the yard was not diminished. Though no longer inside the keep, Karen still felt the weight of centuries there.
Adding to this effect was the courtyard’s central altar: a massive hewn block of prismatic basalt. At four meters in length and a meter high, she guessed that it weighed several tons. They were all drawn to it as it glowed and sparked in the last rays of the afternoon sun. None of them could keep their hands from touching its surface.
Mwahu dropped to his knees.
Karen noted that the spot where he knelt was worn into the rock. How many generations of his people had made the pilgrimage here? she wondered, moving beside him. “Is this the gravestone of your ancient teacher?” she asked.
He nodded, head bowed.
Jack circled the great block. “I don’t seen any writing. No clues.”
Mwahu stood and indicated that Karen should give respect and kneel. She nodded, not wanting to offend, dropped her pack and knelt. Mwahu pointed toward the stone.
She stared, not sure if she was supposed to bow, recite a prayer, or perform some other act of respect. As she looked at where Mwahu pointed, however, she had her answer. “Holy shit.”
“What is it?” Jack said. Miyuki stepped to her other side.
“Come see.” Karen stood and returned to the stone. She brushed the block’s surface with the palm of her hand. It was no optical illusion. “I’m not surprised you missed it. You can only see it if you’re kneeling.”
“See what?”
She tugged Jack down by an arm so he could look across the stone’s surface. She traced a finger. “There.”
Jack’s jaw dropped. “A star!”
“Carved so thinly, or simply worn faint by time, that the only way to see it is from an extreme angle.”
He straightened. “But what does it mean?”
Miyuki took a peek, too, then answered from under her umbrella, “It’s like back at the pyramid. We need the crystal.”
Karen nodded and tugged open her pack.
Jack still looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
Karen hadn’t told him about how she’d used the crystal star, and now she tugged out a black cloth bag and shook it out. Behind her, Mwahu gasped with awe. She crossed to the stone as the others gathered around her, carefully placing the artifact atop the thin carving. It was an exact match. She held her breath, not knowing what to expect. Nothing happened.
Disappointed, Karen stepped back. “The crystal star must act as a key, but how?”
Miyuki, leaning over the stone, said, “Remember back at the pyramid—darkness was the final key.”
Karen slowly nodded. It had taken perfect darkness for the crystal star to function as the key to release them from the heart of the Chatan pyramid.
“So what do we do?” Jack asked. “Wait until nightfall?”
Miyuki looked sick at this suggestion.
“I don’t know….” Karen studied the stone. Something didn’t sit right with her. Then it struck her. She recalled the symmetry and balance of the Chatan pyramids. The yin and the yang. “Of course!”
“What?” Jack moved to her side.
“It’s not darkness we need!” She waved Miyuki away from the stone. Her friend’s umbrella had been casting a shadow over the crystal. As Miyuki stepped back, raw sunlight bathed the crystal. The star burst with radiant brilliance. “It’s light!”
A loud crack sounded from the stone. The others moved back a few steps but Karen stood her ground.
A hidden seam appeared around the solid block. It outlined a four-inch-thick lid resting squarely atop the stone block.
Karen stepped forward.
“Be careful,” Jack warned.
She touched the block’s lid and pushed. The slab of basalt shifted, moving as easily as if it were Styrofoam. “It hardly weighs a thing!”
Jack moved beside her, his gaze fixed on the crystal star. He shadowed his hand over it. “Try pushing now.”
She did. The lid wouldn’t budge.
Jack removed his hand, exposing the crystal to sunlight again, and using a single finger, he moved the slab of stone to the side. “The star has somehow extended its weight-altering properties to the basalt.”
Karen was stunned. “Amazing. This must be how the magical ancients ‘floated’ the stones in the past.”
“It looks downright magical enough to me, that’s for damn sure.”
Miyuki, beside them, pointed into the block’s interior.
Karen leaned over as Jack pushed the stone lid back farther.
Inside the altar there was a carved alcove, lined by a shiny metal. Karen touched it. “Platinum.”
Jack nodded. “Like your story. The platinum coffins the Japanese divers discovered underwater during World War Two.”
Karen nodded. “But this coffin isn’t empty.”
Resting inside were the bones of a human skeleton.
Mwahu spoke at Karen’s shoulder, a whisper. “Horon-ko.”
Karen studied the remains. Clinging to the bones were a few scraps of dusty cloth, but what had captured her eye was a book, bound in platinum, clutched in the bony grip of the coffin’s occupant.
Carefully, she reached inside.
“No!” Mwahu cried.
Karen could not resist. She gripped the book and lifted it.
Disturbed, the bones of the fingers fell away to dust. Then, like toppling dominoes, the degradation of the bones spread. The rib cage collapsed, the femurs and pelvis disintegrated, the skull caved in. Soon the form was no longer recognizable.
“Ashes to ashes,” Jack mumbled.