The Bone Labyrinth (52 page)

He nodded and followed her as she entered with the others.

The walls showed a riotous display of life cavorting around them: lions, herds of deer and bison, galloping horses, even a cave bear rearing up on its hind legs. But here, set among the animals, were smaller figures, clearly men and women.

Roland stepped closer, examining the features of one, composed of tiles no larger than the nail of his pinkie. He hovered a finger along a prominent brow and glanced to Lena for confirmation.

“I think it’s supposed to represent one of the Neanderthal hybrids, like Kircher’s Eve,” she whispered. “From the way they’re depicted here, it’s like these people are trying to protect or preserve the animals. But I think the art is meant to be more metaphorical.”

Gray joined her. “How do you mean?”

“I think it’s showing these people defending life in all its forms, perhaps as guardians of the future.”

“Like the Watchers described in ancient texts,” Roland realized.

“Or Plato’s Atlanteans,” Lena added.

“And they went by other names, too,” he said and continued as the others all looked at him. “When I was reading about Crespi’s belief in a lost civilization in Ecuador, I came across references to the Theosophical Society, which was founded in the late nineteenth century. They believed that a small group, what they called the Brotherhood of Saints, were the secret driving force behind mankind’s development, by guarding and disseminating knowledge.” He nodded to Lena. “Much like your own hypothesis of ancient teachers rising from the hybridization of Neanderthals and early man.”

Seichan stood a few yards away, her face lifted high. “Watchers, Atlanteans, Saints, or whatever you want to call them . . . If these are
guardians
, then it’s easy enough to tell what they were guarding against.”

Roland understood. He craned his neck and stared beyond the animals and their handful of defenders—to the figures that loomed menacingly above. Back in Croatia, these figures had been ominous shadows cast by sculpted stalagmites. But here the enemy was depicted in as much detail as the beasts and their guardians.

He shifted his light to better illuminate those figures. They were shaggy-headed and giant-boned. Under craggy brows, their eyes shone with a fiery bloodlust. They attacked the animals around them with clubs and crude spears. But Seichan had stopped at the most gruesome portrayal: a pair of giants ripping apart a child, tearing the little one limb from limb.

“What are they supposed to be?” Gray asked.

“I don’t know.” Roland frowned. “Maybe these creatures were meant to be metaphorical, too. Some portrayal of the brutality of ignorance, illustrating what these guardians were defending against.”

Lena shook her head. “No. The detail and conformation of these large figures are too accurate. Look at their faces, the rendering of their limbs. I think this was a
real
enemy.”

Gray looked aghast. “Who?”

“Perhaps a competing hominin tribe, another branch of mankind’s past. We know early man lived alongside more than just Neanderthals. There were small pockets of other tribes.”

“But a species this
large
?” Seichan asked.

Lena shrugged. “Some offshoots of
Homo erectus
were considered to be veritable giants. Like a species called
Meganthropus,
or Large Man.” She waved a hand to encompass the ring of art. “I think this is a depiction of a real war with this other tribe, a fight for the future of mankind, a battle between brawn and brain, between ignorance and intelligence.”

Gray reached toward one of those monstrous figures. “If you’re right, this enemy might have been the driving force that eventually united the Neanderthal hybrids. Without this external threat, the tribe of ancient teachers might never have been forged.”

Lena nodded. “Perhaps such a danger also explains
why
these teachers needed a home of their own. A place to retreat from the world where they could study and learn in peace, preserving what was important while occasionally venturing forth to share that knowledge.”

Roland stared toward yet another staircase on the far side of this room. “But what happened to them? Where did they go?”

As they all headed toward those dark stairs, he feared they might never know the truth—but he was equally scared they would.

1:47
A
.
M
.

Gray led everyone down the wide stairs. The steps seemed to stretch forever ahead of him. He calculated they must be at least fifteen to twenty stories belowground. He pictured their group winding down into a dry well with water surrounding them on all sides.

How far down does this go?

He swiped sweat from his brow. Each level grew perceptibly hotter, the air heavier with sulfur, as if they were descending into hell.

Finally the end of the stairs appeared ahead. A silvery brilliance shone up from the bottom. Initially, he thought there was some light source down there, but once he reached the last few steps, he recognized that the radiance came from their own lights, reflecting off crystal surfaces.

“Incredible,” Roland murmured.

Like the golden room above, this chamber was circular, about the same size, only here every surface was covered in crystals. The floor and walls were tiled in what looked to be quartz sheets, set off with gems and other colored crystals. The ceiling featured a moonless starscape created by chunks of quartz set within plates of obsidian. A colonnade of crystal pillars supported it all, appearing Gothic in design with pedestals and capitals adorned with gems and linked one to another by arches.

Under those arches stood a circle of doors encrusted with jewels, their jambs sealed with black wax. Two of the doors—one on each side of the room—had been pried open. Broken bits of their seals littered the floor.

Roland headed to one, Lena to the other.

Gray and Seichan moved together toward the room’s center, drawn by what stood in the middle of the space.

Roland called from one side. “It’s a library.” His light glowed from inside the room. “There are hundreds of bookcases in here, all gold-plated and spreading on and on. And so many books . . .” He knelt down. “There’s one on the floor, like someone pulled it off a shelf and left it there. Maybe the handiwork of Jaramillo.”

“I found the same over here,” Lena reported from the opposite side, using her own flashlight. “Golden shelves. And I can make out more rooms beyond this one.”

Roland examined the abandoned book. “No wonder Jaramillo never returned this to the shelf. It’s got to weigh twenty kilos. The covers are made of a blackish metal with pages that look like thin sheets of copper. The writing inside is indecipherable, but it appears to be the same linear script we saw on the standing stones aboveground and along the bottom row of that hall of languages.”

Lena called out, her voice full of awe. “My books . . . the books over here are composed of fine sheets of a crystalline material, meticulously etched. I can make out geometric shapes and strange designs in them, along with what I swear look like mathematical formulas.”

Before the two could wander deeper into those libraries, Gray ordered them both to return. “I need everyone over here.”

He and Seichan had stopped at the room’s greater mystery.

Standing in the center of the room was a long dais sculpted from a large block of translucent quartz. A human skeleton sculpted of gold rested on top, each bone and joint perfectly rendered. The figure lay on its back, holding a familiar length of golden rod.

“What do you make of this?” Gray asked Roland and Lena as they joined him.

“That must be the Rib of Eve, like we saw carved of ivory at the chapel.” Roland ran the beam of his light over its shaft, illuminating the fine striations that marked this ancient yardstick, a length associated with the circumference of the earth. His voice grew hushed with awe. “There’s a reference in the Book of Revelation. Chapter 21, verse 15. ‘The angel who talked with me held a golden reed to measure the city, its gates, and its wall.’ Could this be that same golden unit of measurement?”

No one answered.

Instead, Lena focused her light on the breadth of the skeleton. “That’s odd,” she mumbled.

“What?” Gray could tell from the skull’s conformation that it was a representation of a Neanderthal hybrid, but from Lena’s reaction, she must have discerned something else about it.

She gave a small shake of her head. “The physiological detail is amazing . . . but it’s also
wrong
.”

“Wrong how?” Seichan asked.

“Look at the pelvis.” She concentrated her light. “One half is anatomically
female
, but the other half is clearly
male
. There are the similar discrepancies throughout the skeleton, a blending of feminine and masculine conformations.”

Gray frowned.

Strange
.

Seichan shifted over to the head of the dais, where a waist-high column stood. “And what’s this supposed to be?”

Gray joined her. The pillar’s top surface was cut at an angle, displaying a symbol they had all seen before. It was a six-pointed star, composed of 73 pieces.

“It’s the same as the petroglyph that marked Eve’s grave,” Lena noted. “Only instead of palm prints, this one is made up of metal and crystal marbles.”

“What’s it doing here?” Roland asked.

“I don’t know,” Lena admitted. “But the prominent placement must be significant.”

Seichan shrugged. “Or maybe someone really liked playing Chinese checkers.”

Gray picked up one of the metallic marbles from its concave socket, wanting to examine it more closely. As soon as he lifted it free, a deep tonal chime sounded, reverberating from all around, as if a gong had struck the crystal room.

Everyone froze.

“Put it back,” Lena urged.

Gray obeyed and dropped it back in place. They all held their breaths—but the ringing chime sounded again a moment later.

“Too late.” Seichan dropped to a knee and examined the pedestal. “You triggered something, and now there’s no putting the cat back in the bag.”

Gray pictured the walls of water surrounding this dry well. Was this some sort of booby trap?

Maybe we should’ve heeded Chakikui’s warning about this place.

Another chime sounded.

Seichan squinted at the base of the pillar. “Look at this. I can make out thin threads of copper or gold running from the sockets on top. They disappear into the floor.”

Gray dropped to a knee and concentrated his beam into the column. “She’s right. It’s likely the triggering mechanism.” He stood and studied the pattern on top. “And this may be the way to stop it.”

“How?” Lena asked. “Are you thinking this is some sort of test?”

“Maybe.”

She grew thoughtful. “Like a puzzle, a challenge of one’s
knowledge
.”

He nodded. “Perhaps to continue from here, the builders required you to prove yourself worthy.”

Seichan crossed her arms. “Then I suggest you don’t fail.”

As if emphasizing that warning, the room rang out again, louder this time.

“I . . . I think that one came faster,” Roland noted.

Gray searched around.
If the interval is growing shorter—

Roland finished his thought. “I think it’s acting like a timer.”

Gray found
all
their eyes upon him. He took a deep breath, knowing they were depending on him to solve this riddle. He concentrated again on the star pattern, remembering Seichan’s reference to a board of Chinese checkers.

But what are the rules of this game?

With the line already crossed, Gray plucked up the metallic ball again, feeling its heft and weight in his palm. He turned to Roland. “You said the covers in your library were made of a dark metal. Would you say this is that same material?”

Roland examined it closer and nodded. “I think so.”

Gray removed one of the quartz-like stones from the display and held it toward Lena. “And these are crystal, like the books in the other library.”

“Do you think that’s significant?” Lena asked.

“Maybe.” He held the marbles in his two palms, noting the difference in their weights. “There’s a pattern of opposites here. Opaque and translucent. Metal and crystal.” He nodded to the golden skeleton. “Male and female.”

He sighed heavily, feeling he was close to understanding something but couldn’t quite get there. He knew one of the reasons he had been recruited into Sigma was because of his unique ability to see patterns where no one else could, to make connections between disparate elements, to see the whole amidst the parts, the forest from the trees.

Maybe I’ve lost it. Maybe this time I get lost in those woods.

The chime pealed again, setting his teeth on edge.

“Opposites,” he mumbled, knowing that was the answer.

Metal and crystal . . .

Dark and clear . . .

Heavy and light . . .