Excavation

“Watch out!” Sam yelled. “Above you!” He had spotted the corresponding gold tile on the roof drop open. A thick rain of spears shot out, whistling, and disappeared into the pit opened under the silver tile.

Maggie had backed from the cascade of blades, legs trembling fiercely. She fell to her knees as the silver tile swung closed again. “Sam…?”

Gesturing wildly, Denal explained, “She must no come back. If starts, Miss Maggie must finish.”

The woman’s eyes were wide with fear as she stared back at Sam across the six yards of floor. Sam could see a glaze of panic beginning to set in. What was he to do?

Suddenly the entire room shook violently. A thunderous roar accompanied it. Sam was thrown to the floor. Maggie ducked, covering her head with her arms. Two metal tiles dislodged from above and crashed with loud clangs.

Only Denal managed to keep his feet. The Quechan boy glanced toward the room’s entrance. Dust and clouds of silt rolled toward them. “The temple! It falls!”

Sam rolled back to his feet as the floor settled. “Oh, God… Norman and Ralph…”

As if hearing his call, two figures suddenly burst through the cloudy silt. Coughing, Ralph skidded to a stop beside Sam. From head to foot, the large black man was grey with granite dust, as was Norman behind him. The photographer sneezed loudly.

Ralph was out of breath. “It’s all coming apart!”

The groan of shifting stones seemed to come from all around them. Occasional loud crashes still erupted regularly, as close as the antechamber next door.

Norman wiped his nose on his sleeve. “There’s nothing above us now.”

Ralph pulled Sam to the neighboring wall of the short passage. “Feel.”

Sam placed his hand on the wall of stacked granite stones. It trembled under his palm as the stresses from the tons of granite blocks and clay strained these last bulwarks. “All that’s holding this place together is a lick and a promise,” Sam realized aloud.

Norman suddenly drew their attention with an urgent call. He pointed toward the patterned floor. “Maggie!”

Sam swung around. Across the tiles, he spotted the Irish student sprawled on her side on the same gold tile. Her limbs twitched and spasmed. She was having another seizure.

“What the hell is she doing out there?” Ralph asked angrily.

“I don’t have time to explain.” Sam unslung his rifle and passed it to Ralph. “Stay here!” He darted onto the gold tiles.

Denal yelled a warning, but Sam ignored the boy. Sam danced from silver to gold as he climbed the staircase pattern toward janan pacha. Reaching Maggie’s tile, he knelt beside her and cradled her head in his lap. His touch seemed to calm her slightly. Using this cue, he stroked her hair and called to her softly. Her trembling limbs quieted. “Maggie… if you can hear me, come to me. Follow my voice.”

A small moan escaped from her lips.

“C’mon, Maggie… we need you… this is no time to be napping.”

Her eyelids fluttered, and then she was staring at him. “Sam…?”

He leaned down and hugged her tightly. The smell of her hair and sweat sharp in his nose. “Thank God!”

Maggie pushed from his embrace and quickly took in the scene. “You shouldn’t have come out here,” she scolded, but there was no heat in her voice, only relief. “The temple?”

“It’s comin’ down around our ears. This is the last level intact.”

Maggie glanced up at Sam, an unspoken question in her eyes.

Sam answered, “An hour at most, I’d guess.”

“What are we to do?”

Helping her to her feet, Sam stood. Maggie had to lean on his arm for support, her legs still weak. Her palms were hot on his bare skin. “You got me thinking earlier. Just why did the Moche or Incas build this room so it was one-way only?”

Maggie shook her head.

Sam glanced to the far wall. “It makes no sense… unless… unless there was another way out.”

“A secret passage?”

“There must be more than just this booby-trapped room. Why the dire warning from the mummified friar? There’s nothing here. Something must lie beyond this chamber.”

“But if you’re right, where’s the entrance?”

Sam pointed to the large statue of the Incan king. It seemed to glower at them, gold against the dark stones. “If anybody would know, he would. A clue must lie with him.” Sam met Maggie’s eyes.

“So we’ll have to cross over there,” she said, swallowing hard. She offered Sam a wavery half smile. “One last puzzle.”

The roof again rumbled ominously. “Right. We either solve it, or we kiss our asses good-bye.”

Ralph called over to them. “What’re you two doing? We’re running out of time!”

Sam quickly related what they planned to do.

“That’s insane! You’re risking your lives on pretty thin guesses!”

Sam nodded toward the roof. “I’d rather take my chances than just wait for the sky to fall.”

Ralph had no answer. He just shifted from foot to foot nervously. “Okay, boss, but be careful,” he finally conceded.

Denal stepped onto the tile floor, his face ashen. “I come with.”

“No!” Maggie and Sam called out in unison.

Denal just continued onward. “I know old stories. I help. I no die without a fight, too.” He followed their path to join them. He glared up at Sam. “My mama, before she die, she teach me to be brave. I no shame her.”

Sam stared for a moment, then clapped the boy on the shoulder. “Thanks, Denal.”

He smiled weakly, but his eyes kept flicking between the Incan king and the patterned floor. With shaky fingers, he fished out a bent cigarette from a pocket and slipped it between his lips. He caught Sam eyeing the unlit cigarette and stared back defiantly. “Let’s go.”

Sam turned to leave. “You know those things will stunt your growth.”

“Not if I don’t light them,” Denal said sourly.

“You find a way out of here,” Sam said, “and you can smoke your lungs black.”

Maggie trailed behind them. “Keep moving. This roof isn’t goin’ to last forever.”

Sam continued in silence. Each step onto a new tile brought an ever-growing sense of dread. But nothing happened. Between Maggie and Denal, they seemed to have solved the riddle of the tiles, but what then?

Sam came to the midpoint of the floor and froze.