The Mayan Priest (43 page)

His likeness was created specifically to blend into the colour of the tile. In fact it would be virtually impossible to pick out the image unless you knew what you were looking for.

Her heart beat rapidly. The subtlety was so out of character for Kinix that it could only mean that she had discovered something that he had wanted to keep a secret.

Samuel rushed to her side. ‘Did you find something?’

‘No,’ Gillian lied as she picked up a random sample of debris and tossed it aside using the distraction to slide the piece in question into her pocket.

Samuel gazed at her with distrust in his eyes. ‘Get a move on. We don’t have time for your garbage.’ He was displeased at the delay and pushed Gillian roughly towards the opening.

She did not argue, intent on keeping her secret and keen to discover what lay on the other side of the opening.

Gillian was not disappointed this time. She felt as if she had stepped back 500 years.

The room could only be described as large and ostentatious, and Gillian absorbed the details like a dry sponge. The floor was unpolished but glorious in its pale natural state and offset the highly coloured walls to perfection. The ceiling was constructed with twenty plaster panels, each painted with alternating scenes of Kinix’s life and the general living conditions in Tikal. Gillian indulged in the mating ritual of the jaguar, the abundance of food in Tikal, the advanced building talents of the Mayans and Kinix’s many journeys. The walls were equally telling and Gillian was able to follow Kinix from his first days as a priest to the confusing time after the death of his beloved Bahlum Paw Skull. It was so wonderful and she was so captivated that it took a few minutes before she registered the existence of a door in the wall to her right. Gillian moved to it with slow deliberation, taking a moment to make sense of what she was looking at.

The door was of solid stone and set into an equally solid square frame. A series of twenty rotating blocks with a standard arrangement of Mayan hieroglyphics were placed in the centre, allowing Gillian to recognise the same type of code she used to enter the room where they located the third Kinix diary. In principle it looked to be quite basic, but it was this simplicity that caused alarm bells to ring. Kinix was not simple and, combined with an overly elaborate room, she sensed a bluff. It was almost as if this room was like a fly trap, designed to draw in its prey and move them towards an entrance that promised further treasures beyond. The simple access code was just enough to seem realistic but easy enough to break. Gillian had that sinking feeling that treasures on the other side were anything but.

She wondered why Samuel had not just blown the door like he did with the walls.

He seemed to understand her thoughts. ‘Our scientists have hit a wall. There appears to be some type of shield blocking our ground-penetrating radar and we’ve been unable to determine the contents of a solid mass behind this door. As far as we are aware, the Mayans did not have access to this type of technology.’

Gillian did not respond. She recalled a thesis she read a couple of months ago about vast sheets of mica being used in the pyramids at Teotihuacán. Its purpose was unknown but its heat repellent properties could certainly deter radar.

‘Surely you could just drill through?’

‘We could, but Arun does not want to damage any potential treasures.’

‘You don’t need me to open this door. The lock consists of twenty blocks, the same amount of panels that are contained in the roof. The corner of each painted panel has a Mayan hieroglyph that represents their gods. It’s my guess that you just need to place them in the order of their importance.’

Samuel gazed at her with an expression that she almost mistook as admiration. She shook her head; there was no way that this brute of a man would show her respect. She would not be silly enough to believe that his intentions were anything but selfish even if there was a clear case of brainwashing.

‘It’s time to open the door,’ Samuel insisted as his demeanour reflected determination and obedience. He would do whatever was necessary to fulfill Arun’s demands and Gillian almost felt an inkling of sympathy for him. It would be awful to be controlled by another human to the extent that you were unable to think for yourself.

Gillian studied the locks and quickly spun the dials until they hit their predetermined order, pausing only when she arrived at the final combination.

Samuel growled in anger, but Gillian refused to comply. She was fearful of what she would find. The entire situation was wrong. Kinix loved puzzles and yet there was nothing here to connect the journals or any of the clues they had discovered to this room, in particular the small square plaque they had found in the last obsidian box. All did not bode well and she did not want to be here when the door was opened.

Samuel’s face reminded Gillian of an angry puffer fish. Blood rushed rapidly to the surface of his skin and his eyes reverted to the cold, calculated glare she had become used to. Any semblance of his more considerate side had vanished and he raised his hand to strike her when a very familiar voice interceded.

‘Gillian, my love. How I have missed you.’

Gillian felt her heart leap. An uncontrollable mix of overwhelming relief and love flooded her very soul and she longed to run to him with a newly found, unabated joy. Emotion overtook sense and she spun where she stood to find herself face to face with her beloved fiancé. The familiar, well-groomed black hair, piercing blue eyes and toned body filled her with so much adoration that she almost threw herself into his outstretched arms.

Her feet refused to move and try as she might, her heart was unable to overrule her brain. Gillian could not make sense of her feelings. What was wrong with her? Why was she unable to go to him?

‘Are you all right, love?’

‘Yes,’ Gillian lied as she looked at his face and saw what she had overlooked all of these years. It was almost as if someone had drawn back the curtains and revealed to her what her treasured father had failed to impart to her despite his numerous warnings. Gillian felt like a fool as she gazed at the man with the smile as false as zirconia.

‘Lucky, my arse! What did you do to them, Fred? Did you murder them so you could survive? And why are you here with Samuel?’ Gillian shrieked in sudden understanding. She felt sick to her very core and despite the fact that she was not a vindictive person, she would have gladly shot Fred where he stood.

‘You were in on this all the time. That’s why you agreed to accompany me in the first place.’

Gillian was so horrified that she could barely contemplate the thought that crossed her mind: if Fred had been bought by Arun, perhaps their whole relationship had been a fake. She felt betrayed, soiled and cheated. Fred had used her. Arun’s desire for antiquities was well known and he had instructed Fred to get close to Gillian for the purpose of obtaining inside information on new digs. Although Fred was also an expert in archaeology, Gillian was closer to leading authorities like Richard and she was also far more knowledgeable on hieroglyphics. It was also her connection to Richard that led them all to Tikal. In effect, Gillian has caused her friends’ potential demise. She was devastated.

‘Where are my friends, you bastard!’ she screamed in fury as she pummelled Fred with all her might before ripping off her engagement ring and throwing it in his face.

‘My love, why are you so angry? All you need to do is open that door and I will tell you where to find them.’

Gillian gained control of her emotions and took a moment to note the shallow and somewhat demonic expression that fleetingly appeared on Fred’s face. In some ways, she realised that he was even worse than Samuel. Samuel had been brainwashed from childhood. His gentle essence had been squashed and manipulated before he had the sense to choose for himself. Fred, however, made his choice as a thinking adult. He had been bought with the promise of wealth and notoriety.

She spat in his face and watched in disgust as he licked the dribble that ran past his mouth.

‘My dear … as I recall, we have swapped more spit than I care to remember.’

Gillian was mortified and barely reacted when Fred forced her to face the door. He kissed her passionately on the lips before smacking her backside. ‘Now, be a dear and open this door.’

Gillian considered her options. She was surrounded by two burly men and was very much alone. There was no option but to comply.

She spun the last dial and heard a resounding click. The door unlocked and seemingly developed a life of its own as it swung inward, revealing a dark abyss beyond. It was both beckoning and frightening and Gillian paused. Samuel and Fred did not.

They stepped forward with confidence, backed up by an unexpected group of people who had arrived in the room behind them. Gillian turned to see the immense hulk of Arun’s repulsive body and gagged. He was the epitome of evil, the lowest of the low. If the Mayan society still existed, he would be a member of mitnal the lowest and most horrible of the nine hells of their underworld. It was ruled by the decaying and skeletal death god Ah Puch and was reserved for those who would suffer for all eternity.

Everyone moved aside for Arun as he stepped in behind Samuel and Fred and lit the room with a large fluorescent globe.

Gillian’s mouth dropped in awe.

The room was not overly large but sported a high vaulted, pure white plaster ceiling. The walls were erected from large stone blocks and alternate panels of solid jade and gold. The floor was a white marble. However, the feature piece was the solid jade carving of the Mayan world tree that stood atop a gold and obsidian mound in the centre of a very large pool of water. The effect was quite striking with the glistening walls and fifteen foot tree reflected in the water and rebounding off the pure white ceiling.

Arun was the first to speak. ‘I want it. I don’t care if this is all there is. I want that tree. Can you imagine what it would be worth? I will be the toast of the society with something like this in my possession,’

His greed was beyond comprehension.

‘Get it for me,’ he ordered as a general unrest filtered throughout the room. Gillian was aware that everyone was of the impression that they would receive substantial payment for their time and assistance. They had no intention of leaving unrewarded, yet no one dared defy Arun despite the sudden understanding that he planned to take the entire treasure for himself.

Gillian contemplated the scene carefully. She knew that this was a decoy. Rich enough to allow potential thieves to believe they had found the mother lode and remove them from the area that contained the true cache. It also posed the question that continued to puzzle her: the presence of water that appeared as fresh and new as the day it was first placed in this room. The only answer she could think of was that there must be a running spring, but where? It was not immediately evident although the lack of movement would suggest a slow but continual seep in and out of the area. It would have to be placed beneath the circular pond, the most likely position being under the central mound that contained the tree. Her only concern was the trap she knew lay in the room.

Gillian scanned the walls and floor. There was no obvious evidence of any ruse, but it was in its apparent emptiness that the greatest threat lay. It was almost like a trapdoor spider, unseen until its prey strayed into its lair. The roof looked to be secure as did the outer walls. The floor was also safe, taking into consideration that it was supporting half a dozen people. As a matter of deduction, the only threat remaining resided in the water.

Gillian viewed it thoughtfully. On the surface it resembled a large pond complete with intricate border tiles and raised surrounds. The edges were well-connected to the floor although years of training allowed her to discover a very tiny gap between the floor tiles and the upright surrounds of the pond. She found this curious, taking into account the expert craftsmanship otherwise exhibited. The opposite side appeared to be equally fashioned and even though she could not see an equivalent join, she suspected it was there.

‘Get a plank,’ ordered Arun as his servants hurried to comply, returning momentarily with an electronic extension ladder long enough to span the thirty foot gap. One of the assistants went first which created an unstoppable chain of events.

As soon as a certain amount of weight was spread across the ladder and imposed on the pond, a small change began to occur. Gillian noticed it immediately and stepped back in concern. The entire pool had dropped almost an inch, but it was enough to bring about an increased flow of water. Bubbles began to appear on the surface and a distant but resounding clunk shuddered throughout.

And then it happened.

The pool dropped five feet into the ground, retaining a level so perfect that even the finest of engineers would have been proud. Water spouted unabated like a fountain from large square holes cut into the base of the central island, drenching all those on the opposite side. The rush was sudden and unexpected, filling the room at a rate that was almost impossible to measure.

Everyone panicked and ran for the exit, finding that they were blocked by Arun’s massive bulk and caught between possible death and the repercussions of pushing him forcefully.

They chose the latter, deciding that death was the less favourable option, causing Gillian to ignore the urge to laugh. In less dire circumstances, she would have found the situation highly amusing although the rapidly rising water quickly brought her back to her senses.

Gillian yelled. She was stuck between Fred and Samuel and forced to wait as the water swirled around their legs with such intensity that it had extended up past her calves before rapidly and unexpectedly receding back into the cavity.