The Eye of Heaven

40

Maribela looked at Antonio with astonishment.

“I don’t … understand. That’s unlike any of the Toltec images we’ve ever come across.”

“Yes, it’s more typical of the sort of thing the Vikings were known for,” Remi said, her camera clicking as she captured multiple angles. “Look at the skull. It’s got a beard. I think we’re seeing the first example of Viking iconography ever found in Mexico.”

“The juxtaposition of the indigenous art and the Viking is … striking, to say the least,” Maribela said.

“Not particularly welcoming, is it?” Lazlo commented.

“It definitely makes you stop and think twice,” Sam agreed. “I wonder why they sealed the temple entry?”

“Perhaps they got tired of waiting for the ship to return?” Lazlo said.

Sam nodded. “There’s only one way to find out what’s inside. Might as well see if we can break through this while we’ve still got some light to work with.” Sam turned to Antonio. “What do you think? Do you have any problem with us creating an opening here?”

“I’d say your instincts have been quite good so far.”

“All right, then. Let’s see what this mud is made out of, shall we?”

The mortar had hardened to the consistency of rock, and the sun was sinking below the mountains by the time their picks had punched the first hole. The sight of the gap widening encouraged them, with mortar crumbling away in large chunks, and within minutes they’d cleared the entire entryway.

Maribela had brought flashlights from the SUVs and she flicked one on and handed it to Sam. He squinted and peered inside. Remi edged next to him, bringing her beam to bear on the interior.

“This wasn’t what I was expecting,” she said, and stepped back so that Antonio and Maribela could see inside. Lazlo approached and looked over their shoulders as they played their lights over the interior.

“This is another first. I’ve never seen a mass burial in a temple like this. How many skeletons are there?” Maribela asked. Antonio counted quietly in Spanish.

“A dozen. But look at how they’re dressed,” he said as he took a tentative step down the single stair into the temple. Maribela followed him in, trailed by Lazlo. Sam and Remi nodded to each other and joined them. The chamber was larger than it had looked from the outside — at least twenty feet square. The skeletons sat against the walls as though waiting for something. Each had on a chain-mail tunic, and several had Viking helmets sunk over their skulls, decayed teeth grinning into eternity, swords and battle-axes by their sides.

“Look! There,” Remi said, pointing to several objects near the entry stairs. She trained her flashlight on the long wooden trough and the tools near it. “That’s where the mortar came from.”

“Bloody hell. They walled themselves in,” Lazlo exclaimed.

Nobody spoke as the weight of what they were seeing sank in. There was no way of knowing how many of the skeletons belonged to men who had been alive when the doorway had been sealed, but the tools were ample evidence that at least one, and probably more, had lived long enough to complete his grim work before spending his final time on Earth trapped in his own tomb.

“Look at the pictographs. They’re cruder. But look at what they’re portraying,” Remi said, gazing above the assembled bodies at the carvings.

A bearded warrior, part snake, part bird, was slaying a group of men attacking a small temple. Above the peak, a cloud hovered. The imagery was grizzly: the bodies hacked apart, several beheaded. Lightning bolts blazed from the warrior’s eyes, setting fire to the surroundings, where still more figures burned in the flames.

“Not terribly cheery, is it?” Lazlo whispered. “Bit Armageddon for my taste. Still, the message is clear.”

Sam nodded. “I’ll take it as a warning to anyone who tries to breach the temple.”

“Like we have,” Remi said.

Everyone was quiet until Antonio moved back toward the doorway. “It’s getting dark. We should gather our things and have the police guard this overnight. I’ll speak to them about it.”

“I’m not ready to leave yet. Let’s get the portable work lamps from the trucks and set them up,” Remi said.

“But there’s nothing that can’t wait until morning,” Maribela protested.

“I’m not tired. If the guards are going to be here all night, I see no reason we can’t work through the night, too. It wouldn’t be the first time. The batteries should last at least that long.”

Sam gave Antonio a weary look. “You heard the lady. I just follow orders.”

“I don’t understand what the urgency is. We can just come back tomorrow. Everyone will still be dead,” Maribela said.

Remi glanced at Sam. “There’s more at stake here than just the temple.”

“What do you mean?” Antonio asked.

“Somewhere inside may be the Eye of Heaven. Left for the returning Vikings so they could claim their position as the leaders of the indigenous people of Mexico.”

Maribela blinked in astonishment. “Are you serious?”

“I didn’t want to say anything until we found the site.”

“Then where is it?” Maribela asked. “The Eye of Heaven?”

Sam shrugged. “That’s the problem. The language isn’t specific. ‘Beneath the temple’ is all the rune stone said. Which could mean below us in a chamber or vault, or in a cave somewhere down the cliff, or buried in some hidden corner of the temple. For all we know, there are more clues in these pictographs. Nothing about this has been straightforward and I see no reason to believe it will be from here on out.”

Remi moved into the center of the space. “Which brings us back to our sense of urgency and desire for secrecy. This project has been plagued with problems and we’d rather avoid one out here in the middle of nowhere. The only people who know anything about this are in this room. But the longer it takes for us to find the jewel, assuming it really exists, the greater the likelihood that something goes wrong.”

Antonio nodded. “I understand. We’ll get the lamps and negotiate with the police to spend the night guarding the area. Tomorrow we can arrange for heavier security while we work — these men will have to go home and, when they do, they might talk, which around here could mean serious problems. Everyone’s aware of the violence that’s been an unfortunate part of the region’s recent history.” Antonio didn’t need to say anything more.

“Not to mention the snakes,” Lazlo added, lightening the mood only slightly.

Half an hour later, the three lamps were in place and one of the officers was sitting outside the temple, his companions back in the SUV, where they could spot approaching vehicles. Lazlo was pacing in front of the entry, scratching his head, as Sam and Remi tapped on the floor, Sam with the handle of his machete, Remi with her flashlight. Antonio and Maribela were taking photographs of the carvings.

Lazlo stopped midstride and stared at the wall. “Sam? I just noticed something.”

“What is it?” Sam asked, still tapping.

“The walls. They don’t end at the floor.”

“What are you talking about, Lazlo?”

“Look at the walls. The stone blocks. They’re symmetrical. But the ones at the base are only a third as deep. So this floor isn’t set on bedrock, as you might expect. Either that or the blighters dug a footer for the walls, which isn’t likely circa 1000.”

“What’s your point?” Sam asked.

“My point is that you’d expect to see this if there was more structure below us. Or as the rune stone said, beneath.” Lazlo unsheathed his machete and began scraping the floor, removing the film of dirt that had accumulated over the centuries. “And if the entire thing’s hollow below, you might not hear a difference by tapping. In fact, I’d wager it’ll all sound the same.”

Sam eyed Remi and nodded, and soon they were all on their knees, working away. An hour passed, and then Antonio called out.

“I found a peg.”

Remi rose and went to him. “A peg?”

Antonio tapped part of the floor. “Do you have a pocketknife?”

Remi unfolded her knife and handed it to him. He used the point of the blade to clear dirt away and soon they were staring at a circle in the floor, six inches in diameter, crafted from stone.

“We’ve seen these in Mayan ruins,” Maribela explained. “The builders would affix a movable slab, using stone pegs to prevent the slab from shifting — effectively locking it in place. There will most certainly be others.”

Antonio wedged the knife blade down the edge of the peg and wiggled it. The peg moved.

“Does anyone else have another knife? We’re going to need at least two.”

Sam handed him his SOG Ae-04 Aegis folding knife and Antonio worked at the stone plug. He was able to raise it three-quarters of an inch, and Sam gripped the edges and pulled it free. He sat back, admiring the precise tapering of the granite cone, and then set it to one side.

“Let’s find the rest of these.”

An hour and seven pegs later, the distinct outline of a stone slab, three feet wide by four long, was clearly evident. Lazlo and Antonio had gone in search of some saplings they could use as makeshift rollers, and Maribela had commandeered a bottle of motor oil to lubricate the edges, hopefully making it easier to break free. Once Antonio returned with two decent lengths of tree trunk, Lazlo following with two more, they placed the wood on the floor and went to work with the pry bars, wedging them along the slab’s edges.

“Get this side lifted and I’ll try to push it from the end using my bar,” Sam instructed. They worked at the stone rectangle, Remi and Maribela using the shovel tips for greater leverage as the men worked the bars, and one end slowly rose from the floor.

“Great. Hold it there … hold it …” Sam heaved on his bar and levered the slab, first one inch, then another. “Lazlo, get one of the rollers under it. Watch your fingers!”

Lazlo pushed a sapling to the edge, directly beneath the lip, and they eased off the bars, lowering the slab. Antonio quickly rolled the other three in line, so as the slab slid farther it would roll along the trunks. Lazlo joined Sam and got his bar into the opening and heaved. The slab moved another few inches. Sweat dripped from their brows, and Sam paused to wipe it out of his eyes.

“I thought you had a bad back.”

“Bit miraculous, isn’t it? I feel like a teenager again,” Lazlo said.

“It’s a wondrous time. Now, let’s get this thing out of the way so we can see what’s under it.”

They pried together as Maribela poured the last of the motor oil on the grooves. Remi squeezed next to Sam and added her weight to the effort. The heavy stone covering lurched up onto the saplings, revealing a yawning opening. Maribela and Antonio rolled the slab toward them and it ground to a halt near one of the skeletons. Sam freed his aluminum flashlight from his belt and directed the beam into the inky gap. Nobody spoke until Lazlo broke the silence.

“I just hope there aren’t any snakes.”