Chapter 8

Dane was relieved that Jade did not argue with him. She squinted and looked at the approaching helicopter for a moment before nodding her assent. They collected their gear, and Jade and Saul made a rapid descent. Not wanting to leave any evidence behind, Dane took the ropes loose and dropped them down to Jade. He looked back at the Sikorsky and found that it still seemed headed directly toward them, and it was coming fast. There was no way he could make the free climb to the bottom before it was upon them. He knew he was being overcautious, but his instinct told him that the black bird on the horizon was bad news.

“Go on! I’ll catch up!” he shouted down to Jade and Saul. She put a hand to her ear and tilted her head. “I can’t get down in time!” He pointed toward the path along which they had hiked. They understood then. Jade shook her head, but Saul took her by the upper arm and trotted away. Jade had to follow or be dragged. He’s happy enough to get rid of me, Dane thought.

He stole a last glance at the approaching helicopter before beginning his descent. It was slow going, feeling for the cracks and ledges he had climbed earlier. He wanted to look back and see if Jade and Saul had gotten away, but it was critical that he maintain his concentration.

A low hum filled his ears, quickly growing into a sound like a thousand angry hornets. The bird was almost there. Down and to his right was a crack in the stone face that looked almost wide enough to squeeze into. He made for it, his fingertips clutching at the most miniscule lumps of stone as he scooted across the rocky face. He slid his right foot out onto an egg-shaped protrusion, and shifted his weight to his right hand and right leg. Almost there.

With a soft crunch the rock broke away and he was dangling by scraped, raw fingertips. He held on tight, not panicking. A less experienced climber might scrabble his feet against the stone searching for a foothold, and actually force his body away from the rock. Dane took a deep breath, ignoring the scorching hot pain that coursed through his wrists and forearms. Sliding his right foot upward, he found an angled crack in the rock into which he could push his toe. Soon he had found purchase for his left foot, and he was on steady footing four feet away from the fissure.

The helicopter was virtually on top of him now. Bits of sand and rock blown by the wash of the rotors rained down on his head. He searched for a way to get to the fissure, but the intervening space was worn smooth by sand and wind. He looked up to see the craft hovering over the butte. Had they seen him?

His senses sharpened by adrenaline, he spotted a crack running horizontally along the far inside wall of the fissure, level with his waist. Ignoring his better judgment, he flexed his knees, ankles and wrists as much as possible, gathered his strength, and leapt sideways across the face of the rock.

For a panicked instant he thought he was going to fall. As he had intended, he overshot the fissure, reached in and hooked the crack with his left hand. A violent yank nearly tore his shoulder from its socket, but he held on. His feet swung out, and he felt as if he were going to be upended, but then he swung back and caught hold with his right hand. Sucking in his breath he squeezed back into the shadowed opening.

He waited there, listening to the beat of the rotors. His arms burned with the effort of holding his weight, and he squeezed deeper into the crack, forcing the rock to bear some of the load. After about thirty seconds, though it seemed a half hour to his weary mind and body, the bird flew away to the east. As the sound faded away, he heard voices.

“See anything?” The voice was a man’s, youthful with a Midwestern accent.

“Nothing. I wondered if we’d find anyone out here. This place is pretty remote.” The second speaker pronounced “out” so that it rhymed with “remote”. Canadian, perhaps. “I’m just glad we got here first.”

“How can you tell? The rotors would have washed away any footprints. Never mind. What’s the radar say?”

“It says…” The man Dane now thought of as Canuck paused. “Rock. Lots and lots of rock.” He paused again. “All over the damn place. Rock.”

For no apparent reason, Dane thought of songs with “Rock” in the title. “Rock Rock Til You Drop”, “Rock of Ages”, “Written in Rock”, “Rock Me”… He corralled his subconscious and focused on what was being said up above.

Midwest man uttered a vile oath, and must have kicked a fist-sized stone, because one nearly cracked Dane’s skull as it tumbled down. “You’re absolutely positive?”

“Yup,” replied Canuck. “The big man won’t like it so much, but that’s how it is.”

“Fine.” The tone of Midwest’s voice said that it was anything but. “I’ll call the bird back.”

“Suit yourself.”

The chopper returned less than a minute later, hovering over Fajada Butte long enough to pick up the two men, before heading west, back in the direction from which it came.

Relieved, Dane scrambled down the rock faster than was safe, but he’d had all the rock climbing he could take for one day. At the bottom, he scanned the horizon but saw no sign of the helicopter. No reason it should return anyway. Not stopping to regain his breath, he set off at a jog toward the hiking trail.

Jade met him halfway back to where they had left their Range Rover. He wondered where Saul was, but did not care enough to ask. After assuring her that he was hale and healthy, he recounted what had happened on the Butte.

“Who could they be?” Jade frowned, her intense eyes boring into him. “And what are they looking for?”

“Probably the same thing we’re after,” he said, taking her by the hand and setting off down the trail. He had thought about it, and nothing else made sense. Surely Jade wasn’t the only person in the world who had heard of Fray Marcos de Niza and his connection to the legend of Cibola.

“But how would they know?” she protested. “Do you think it’s the same person who broke into your boat?”

“I suppose there’s a connection,” he said. “Right now, that’s our only suspect in any event.” With nothing left to them but idle speculation, they lapsed into silence.

Ten minutes later they stood in the empty spot where they had parked the Range Rover. Jade exhaled noisily and punched Saul’s number into her cell phone. She made a face and snapped it closed. “No signal. The jerk! We had an argument. He read somewhere that Casa Rinconda, which is the largest kiva in Chaco Canyon, and not too far from here, has a solstice window. Every year at the summer solstice the sun shines through into an alcove. He wanted to check it out, but I told him the kiva had been excavated before. Whatever sat in that alcove, if anything, is long gone.”

“Let me guess,” Dane said, “He wanted to blow it up.” The look on Jade’s face was answer enough. “If he’s fool enough to try it, let’s at least hope he leaves the keys in the Range Rover before they cart him off to jail.” That got a grin out of her. “Are you up for a hike?” he asked cheerily.

They took their time walking back to the park’s main loop. Dane went through two of his water bottles and still felt parched. They passed the time looking over park brochures Dane had stuffed into his pack. As he was flipping through a pamphlet on Pueblo Bonito, something caught his attention. “Listen to this,” he said, “it might be nothing, but in Pueblo Bonito there are seven corner doorways.”

“The doorway is on the corner of the structure?” Jade echoed. “That’s unusual.”

“Very rare. And one of them is an astronomical marker. It’s a second floor doorway, and at the time of the winter solstice, light passes through and shines on the base of the opposite corner of the room.” Jade looked skeptical. “Think about it,” Dane said. “The picture on the breastplate was of Pueblo Bonito. It’s a solstice marker, and it’s cast by a highly unusual doorway. It’s one in seven, as in…”

“Yes, I know,” Jade said. “As in the ‘Seven Cities’. All right, Maddock, I’ll grant you it’s worth a shot. But if we’re wrong, don’t say anything to Saul. He takes great pleasure in my mistakes.”

“Few though they are,” Dane added.

“Of course.”

Pueblo Bonito, the largest and most complex of the Chaco Canyon ruins, was an amazing sight. Set against the backdrop of sand colored hills, it was built in a half-circle, the outer rim a complex of multi-storied stone rooms that reminded Dane of college dorm rooms, except of course for the odd, keyhole-shaped doors that led into each section. Another, narrow line of rooms ran across the straight edge, and another bisected the half-circle. There were many kivas here of varying sizes. He marveled at the scale and workmanship of the structures. Unlike the more famous Anasazi cliff dwellings that were constructed of large block, Pueblo Bonito was entirely constructed of small, flat stones that fit together with precision, giving the impression of a brick structure.

“The walls were built in the ‘core and veneer’ style,” Jade explained. “The inner core is made of mud and sandstone. The shaped stones are the veneer. When people lived here, the veneer was plastered over and painted bright colors.”

“So it wouldn’t be out of the question for something to be hidden within the core of a wall?” Dane said. Jade shrugged. “It’s more likely than something being hidden under the slab up on Fajada Butte.”

“I suppose so,” she admitted. “The place is deserted. Let’s find this room and you do whatever it is you’re going to do before someone shows up. By Chaco Canyon standards, this is the most popular attraction.”

They quickly located the solstice room. A small, keyhole-shaped second story window was cut into the corner of one of the larger structures. It was about eight feet off the ground, no problem to reach, but it would be a tight squeeze to get inside.

“Make it quick, Maddock,” Jade said, watching for any unwelcome approach.

“My, aren’t we testy?” he teased. “I didn’t take you for the nervous type.” He took off his backpack and dropped it at her feet. He’d never fit through the window with it on his back. “Toss that to me when I’m inside.” Not waiting for a response, he sprang up, catching the wider parts of the keyhole with his tender fingertips. He ignored the stinging- at least there were no helicopters around this time- and pulled himself up. It was not easy to find toeholds in the well-fitted stone wall, but he managed, and was soon squeezing through the small window. He wasn’t the biggest guy, though broader of shoulder than average, but he was forced to go in on his side, which made for an awkward spill down to the bottom. The walls mercifully hid his fall from view.

“Everything all right in there?” Jade called.

“Sure thing. Toss me my backpack.” She did not reply, but the black canvas pack came flying through the opening a moment later. He caught it and turned to inspect the opposite corner wall.

Protected to a greater degree from the elements, the inner walls in this particular room were in better condition than the outer walls. The plaster was still intact in several places, including the bottom corner opposite the window.

Using a small metal detector, he scanned the target area, and was pleased at the resulting squeal that indicated something substantial lay behind the wall on the bottom left, a foot above the floor. Had he not gotten a hit, he would have tried Jade’s radar unit, but he was satisfied. From his climbing gear he pulled out a spike and small hammer, and began chipping away at the plaster over the area where the detector had found something.

He felt guilty at damaging a historic site, but he told himself that the damage would be minor, and the result might be of greater historical value. The plaster came away in half-dollar sized chips, and soon he had uncovered a stone two hand-widths square. His heart raced as he noted how different this stone was from the others around it. All the rest were thin, rectangular slabs like those he had seen everywhere else. This one was out of place.

He scoured the surface of the stone, rubbing away the last of the plaster. His fingertips found something strange. Something was carved into the rock! Using the spike, he scratched at the surface. When he was finished, his breath caught in his throat as he stared at it. It was a clover with a cross in its center.

With renewed vigor he worked the space around the stone. It was not fitted as tightly as the other stones. The space around it was filled with plaster. He had cleared the area around it and was about to pry it free when he heard Jade called a quiet warning. He stopped and listened.

He soon heard two elderly voices, one male and one female, engaged in friendly conversation with Jade. He could not understand the words, but by their tone, it was doubtless small talk that was trying her patience as much as it was his. The conversation finally came to an end, and he waited for Jade to give him the go-ahead, but she did not speak. Should he call to her, and risk discovery? After a count of twenty, he called her name softly, but no answer. He dared not climb up to the window, not without knowing who might be outside. He made up his mind to finish the job as quickly and quietly as possible.

The stone came free with surprising ease. He placed it on the floor with care, and scratched the hard, dry surface of the core. The mixture of mud and rock crumbled at the first touch. An inch below the surface he struck something solid. Hastily he cleared the dried mud from around it, and pulled it forth into the light.

It was a metal box, seven inches square and four inches deep. The clover and cross of Fray Marcos was engraved in the surface. It was neither hinged nor lidded, but a careful inspection of the bottom surface showed that it had been soldered closed. They would have to take it somewhere else to open it.

With a pang of regret he wrapped it in a poncho and stuffed it into the bottom of his backpack. He flipped the stone over to hide Fray Marcos’ cross, and slid it back into the wall. Quietly he gathered the loose sand and plaster and sprinkled it around the far corners. At a casual glance, he doubted anyone would notice what he had done, and how often was someone likely to enter this room?

Just as he was wondering what to do about Jade, he heard her call to him.

“Are we clear?” he asked. At her confirmation, he climbed up to the window, and held the backpack out through the window. “Careful. It’s heavy,” he cautioned. Her delighted smile was almost as great a reward as finding the box. His good mood was dampened only slightly when he saw that Saul stood nearby, keeping watch. He managed to climb out of the window more gracefully than he had entered, and in a matter of seconds they were headed back through the ancient site.

“Sorry I ditched you,” Jade said. “Those old people invited me to walk with them, and I couldn’t very well stand in one place all that time without raising their suspicion. Saul showed up a few minutes later and I told them he was my husband.” Saul smirked and Jade grimaced.

“So,” Saul said, sounding annoyed that Dane had succeeded where he had failed, “what exactly did you find?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said, “but I’ve got a feeling it’s something good.”

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