Authors: Cordy| Michael
Chapter
47.
Ross woke with a start. A pearlescent moon still hung in the sky, but, when he looked over the lost city to the horizon, a soft glow told him dawn was imminent. He couldn't remember falling asleep but he felt alert and fresh. He also felt compelled to act.
He stood up, stepped round the sleeping Hackett and Mendoza, passed Zeb's still form and knelt beside Sister Chantal. He shook her gently until she opened her eyes.
'Wake up,' he murmured. 'We've got to go.'
'Where?' She touched the bruise on her head, dazed, disoriented and frightened.
He kept his voice soft but firm. 'You get up now and take us to Father Orlando's garden, or we turn back and go home.'
She reached out her hand. 'Where's the notebook?'
'It's ruined. There are no more directions. It's up to you now. You say you're the Keeper, that you've been to the garden before. Now's the time to prove it.'
'What about the others?'
'They'll be with us.'
'But they can't--'
'I don't care about secrecy any more. Your plan to use this place to distract them didn't work. Juarez is dead.'
Her eyes widened. 'Juarez is dead?'
'The jaguar that attacked you killed him. We're in the middle of nowhere - literally - and there are two choices. We go on to the garden together or we go home. We're depending on you. Lauren's depending on you.'
'All the directions are destroyed?'
He handed her the notebook. 'See for yourself.'
She rubbed her head, thinking. 'The others can come only if they vow to tell no one of the garden and to take nothing from it.'
'They'll make that promise.'
'There might be one other way to find the garden, but I need a compass.'
'Here's mine.' He reached into his pocket. 'I doubt it'll work, though. There's some strange magnetic field here. The GPS is out and our watches have stopped.'
'Give it to me.'
He glanced at it, then at the rising sun. Wherever the needle was pointing, it sure as hell wasn't magnetic north. 'Like I said, it's not working.'
She took it, sat up and smiled. 'Follow the needle.'
'What do you mean?'
'Follow the needle. It should lead us to the garden.'
He took the compass from her. Normally when a compass wasn't working correctly the needle became erratic. This one wasn't. It pointed firmly in one direction. It wasn't north but it was steady. His pulse quickened. Was the interference coming not from the ore-riddled ridge they had passed through but from the garden - or the source? 'You sure this will lead us there?'
She nodded, eyes sparkling.
'Good.' Ross hardly dared to believe they were continuing the quest. 'In that case, I'll wake the others.'
Within an hour they were ready to leave. They climbed the path out of the valley to the high shelf above, then turned in the direction of the compass needle. As they were about to re-enter dense jungle, Ross looked back. From this elevation, the valley again seemed lush but unremarkable, its secret concealed beneath the vegetation. He strained to glimpse the ziggurat to no avail.
Then he caught a glint of light, the reflection of the sun on metal or glass, coming from the high shelf near the ridge. He wondered what it could be, then pushed it from his mind and followed the others into the jungle.
Father General Leonardo Torino lowered his binoculars and squinted in the early-morning sunlight. For the first time since Iquitos he could see Ross Kelly and the others. It took all his self-control to prevent the relief showing on his face.
'How did you know they would be here, Father General?' said Fleischer. 'We found their trail in the jungle but how did--'
'I told you, Feldwebel, we're on a sacred mission. The Lord is guiding us.' Torino fixed him with his most intense stare. 'Did you doubt me?' Fleischer and his men bowed their heads and crossed themselves. Torino raised his binoculars and focused on the spot where he'd seen Kelly. 'However, the Lord may need our help from here, Feldwebel. We must follow our quarry and not lose them in the jungle.'
'I understand, Father General.' He pointed to one of his men, a shorter, muscular man with thick eyebrows and a jagged scar on his right cheek. 'Weber, keep close, but make sure you aren't seen. Leave a trail for us to follow. If your pack's too heavy, share its weight with Petersen and Gerber.'
'It's fine, sir. I can move fast enough to track them.'
'Good.' Fleischer reached into his pack, pulled out a pair of basic two-way radios and handed one to Weber. They switched them on and both crackled into life, unaffected by whatever force had stopped their watches. 'Keep us informed.'
As Torino and the others watched Weber hurry along the high shelf after Kelly's party, not one noticed the lost city in the valley below, slumbering beneath its blanket of green.
Chapter
48.
Juarez was in their thoughts as they hacked their way through the steaming jungle over the next two and a half days. They missed his alert presence and nimble ability to thread a path through the densest forest. Even the immaculate Hackett was dishevelled. They slept by night, suspended above the forest floor in hammocks, sheltered beneath tarpaulins to keep out the rain. By day, they moved at a slow but determined pace, oblivious of any trail they left.
Ross lost count of the exotic creatures they encountered: golden-pelted monkeys, brilliantly coloured snakes, spiders the size of a man's hand. He was sure some must have been unclassified species. When he thought of the strange plants and animals he had seen since entering the Amazon, how commonplace the bizarre had become, Falcon's garden, with its exotic flora and fauna, seemed less and less inconceivable.
On the third day another ridge blocked their path. It was concave and topped with tooth-white rocks. Immediately Ross knew it must be the one other landmark he remembered from the notebook, La Sonrisa del Dios, the Smile of God.
It occurred to him then that the garden was protected by a number of concentric circles of high rock, like ripples when a stone is dropped into a pond. They had passed through the first via the fierce waterfall of El Velo de la Luz and the second by La Barba Verde. As Ross gazed at La Sonrisa del Dios, adrenalin surged through him. Was this the final barrier protecting Father Orlando's mythical garden?
As if reading his mind, Hackett asked, 'Are we almost there?'
'Yes,' Sister Chantal said. 'The cave system that leads to the garden cuts through the ridge beneath those white rocks.'
Ross checked his GPS again, hoping to determine his exact location, but two words filled the screen: Signal Error.
The sun was setting and, though Ross and Sister Chantal wanted to press on, the others decided to rest and tackle the caves in the morning. Ross feared his racing mind would keep him awake, but when he collapsed on to his hammock he fell instantly into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Only Sister Chantal did not sleep that night. Clutching her crucifix she lay awake in the dark, listening to the sounds of the forest, waiting for dawn to break. Though she was consumed by fatigue, and her body ached, she couldn't relax. Not yet. She burnt with the need to reach the end of her long journey. She yearned to finish her ordeal, fulfil her promise and reap her elusive reward.
Chapter
49.
The next morning, Ross, Zeb, Hackett and Mendoza followed Sister Chantal to the cliff beneath the white rocks of La Sonrisa del Dios. She led them to a vertical fissure crowned with a natural arch and, one by one, they squeezed through the opening until they found themselves in La Catedral, the cathedral-like cave described in the Voynich. Shafts of sunlight illuminated the vast space and Ross saw dozens of small openings hundreds of feet above their heads, which shone like stars among the stalactites on the soaring vault of the roof. The shafts of sunlight picked out glittering, gilded veins in the rock walls.
'Gold,' said Mendoza, with greedy eyes.
Ross studied a vein. 'It looks like gold but I'm afraid it's pyrites, fool's gold.'
'Whatever it is, this is the band of gold that Father Orlando and the conquistadors followed to the garden,' said Sister Chantal. 'We must follow it, too.'
They had entered the vast cave on what amounted to a mezzanine level. Its ceiling, with the star-like apertures, rose above, and its floor was over an abrupt edge to their right, many feet below. A Boeing 747 could have parked in it with ease. Hell, a fleet of them could land and take off in it, Ross thought. The air was surprisingly hot, and tainted with a foul smell, which worsened as they went deeper. Ammonia made his eyes water and Hackett, sucking at his inhaler, was scrabbling in his medical bag for a surgical mask.
Deeper into the cave, the ground sloped down and the passage became narrower until they were walking in single file along a ledge. Now Ross could see the source of the overpowering stench. Over the abyss to his right there was a conical mountain of bat droppings. At least forty feet across and easily as tall, it rose from the floor below to its peak, a few feet from where they were standing. A rustling, clicking sound came from the mound and its dark surface was constantly moving. Every inch was beaded with writhing cockroaches, feeding on the waste. Zeb covered her face. The sight was almost worse than the smell, and Ross put his hand over his mouth to stop himself retching. Above the surgical mask Hackett's eyes showed his disgust. For a man who hated anything remotely dirty or sucio this was a nightmare.
In the darker corners of the ceiling, Ross spotted thousands of bats hanging from the rock. He dreaded the possibility of their waking suddenly and overwhelming them as they fled the cave in their thousands. He pointed upwards to warn the others, who instinctively pushed themselves closer to the wall, putting as much distance as they could between them and the edge.
The danger, however, came from below.
Hackett saw the sandy-coloured snake first, wriggling along the ledge, trying to evade them, but Zeb almost stepped on it. It reared and struck her thick walking boot. As it prepared to strike again Hackett kicked it away, inadvertently towards Mendoza, who jumped out of its path and lost his footing. Trying to regain his balance, he fell on then rolled off the ledge. He scrabbled frantically for a handhold on the sharp rock but gained only a momentary grip before he dropped into the seething mound of filth. He sank fast. Cockroaches covered his boots and lower leg, then swarmed up his body.
By the time Ross was on his knees and holding out his good hand, Mendoza was up to his neck in bat faeces. As his head sank below the cockroaches, he stared up at Ross, lips sealed, eyes wide with terror. Ross hung further over the ledge but couldn't reach his flailing right hand. Then an arm circled his waist and a rope tightened over his shirt.
'You're okay,' said Hackett. 'Zeb and I've got you.'
Eyes watering, nostrils stinging, Ross edged over till his face was inches from the filth and grabbed Mendoza's hand just as it disappeared. Mendoza's other hand reached for him and the sudden weight almost yanked his face into the mire. 'Pull me up!' he shouted.
His arm jerked so hard that Ross had to use his broken wrist to avoid dislocating his shoulder. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he felt the rope tighten round his waist and drag him up. Gradually, Mendoza emerged, and when his head cleared the surface he breathed out and gasped.
As they dragged him on to the ledge, Sister Chantal sprayed him with insect repellent. Lying there, he writhed like a madman, knocking Hackett's glasses and medical bag into the filth. His panic only abated after Hackett patted down his clothes, scattering the remaining cockroaches. As Mendoza recovered his composure and changed his clothes, Ross watched Hackett's medical bag and spectacles sinking beneath the seething cockroaches. He also saw the snake, writhing in its death throes. After a few seconds the mound had consumed it.
Zeb patted Hackett's shoulder. He was rubbing his hands as if to erase any trace of the cockroaches he had brushed off Mendoza. 'Thanks for kicking the snake away from me.' She gestured to his usually clean, pressed trousers and grinned. 'You should regard this as aversion therapy.'
Hackett smiled thinly. 'I've lost my glasses. I'm almost blind without them.'
'I can't believe a man like you doesn't have a spare set,' said Zeb.
'I do,' Hackett said. He pointed at the mound. 'It was in my medical bag.'
Mendoza stood up and helped Ross to his feet. 'That's the second time someone's saved my life. How's your wrist?'
Like my hand's coming off, he thought. 'It's fine,' he said.
They continued along the pyrites seams, descending until they reached another vast chamber, not as wide or as long as before but taller, illuminated by a single, distant opening above. A Manhattan skyscraper could have stood in that cavern and not protruded from the hole.
'Look,' said Hackett.
Ross's heart skipped a beat. A few yards from where they were standing, half concealed by stones, corroded but still recognizable, lay a metal helmet of the same peaked design used by the Spanish conquistadors, and a pewter goblet.
'Surely they can't be from Falcon's quest,' said Zeb, as Hackett picked up the goblet, rubbed it clean and put it into his backpack.
The heat was oppressive now and Ross could see a causeway of black pumice stepping-stones ahead, leading across a chasm through which a stream of molten lava flowed: the river of fire mentioned in the Voynich. Beyond, they would encounter an unwelcoming network of dank, dark, dripping caves.
They were now at the threshold of the garden, and for the first time since he had embarked on his quest, Ross allowed himself to believe that Falcon and Sister Chantal had been telling the truth. He might indeed find something remarkable and miraculous here to help Lauren.
'These are the last obstacles,' said Sister Chantal. 'Beyond the river of fire lie caves of burning rain and poisonous gas, but if we follow the veins of gold we will reach the garden.' She paused, glanced at Ross, then focused on the others. 'Remember your vows. Tell no one of this place and take nothing from it.' She looked at each in turn, only moving on when they nodded.
Hackett didn't look happy. 'Mountains of bat shit, cockroaches, rivers of fire, burning rain, poisonous gas. I hope this garden of yours is worth it. Good God, it's like one of those old adventure stories.'
Ross put on his sunglasses. 'There's only one way to find out.' He pointed to the causeway. 'I'm going to cross that. Then I'm going to hold my breath, cover my skin and eyes, and rush through those caves, following the pyrites to the other side. When you follow me, you mustn't breathe the air or let the liquid dripping off the ceiling touch your skin or eyes. It's basically concentrated sulphuric acid.' He put on his waterproof and pulled up the hood, leaving as little skin exposed as possible, then walked to the causeway. 'You guys ready?'
Sister Chantal smiled.
'You, Zeb?'
Zeb nodded, eyes bright. 'Yep.'
Mendoza stepped forward to join them but Hackett hung back.
Ross's heart was beating fast. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so excited. He realized then that this was no longer just about saving Lauren and their child. His passion for geology, stifled for so long by Big Oil, had reawakened. He called to Hackett, 'What are you waiting for? Want to discover what drove a priest to write the most mysterious manuscript in the world? Want to see a place even more amazing and magical than your precious Eldorado?' He began to walk across the causeway, heat wafting up to him from the lava. 'If you do, follow me.'