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They squeezed through a narrow cleft in the volcanic rock and emerged into a chamber lit by battery-powered lamps. Maddock drew in a sharp breath. The walls were covered in relief images of deities and guardians out of Polynesian religion. At the center of the chamber lay a rectangular-shaped slab of gray rock. Maddock crinkled his nose. There was a faint, acrid smell in the air that he couldn’t quite place.
“We call this the Room of Snares,” Isla said, as if that explained the odor. “That slab in the center is a replica of the Naha Stone,” she continued. “It was used to prove the true bloodline of the Naha Clan, a bit like the legendary Sword in the Stone. When a boy was born, his father would set him atop the Naha Stone. If he remained silent, his bloodline was true. If he cried, he would be cast out.”
Maddock nodded. He was familiar with the legend.
“We’ve identified all the carvings, too.”
“How did you ever find this place?” he asked, thinking of the many twists and turns they had made along the way.
“Kamehameha’s body was hidden by his two most trusted friends, Hoapili and Hoʻolulu. Years later, the king’s great-grandson, Kamehameha III, persuaded Hoapili to show him the way to the tomb. Hoapili let him to the pit, but he would proceed no further. He claimed he could no longer remember the safe path beyond that point.”
“What about the markings on the floor?” Maddock said. Here and there were small, shiny dots.
“Stars,” she said. “We think they represent the night sky at the moment of Kamehameha’s birth. You can take a closer look. Just don’t touch the walls. You’ll get zapped.”
Maddock realized what he had smelled earlier. The sickening smell of burnt human flesh.
“You’ve lost people?”
“Only a few of our own,” Lark interjected. “We’ve mostly brought on contractors to identify the booby-traps, tunnels that collapse, floors that fall out from under you, that sort of thing.”
“What kind of contractor does that?” Maddock asked, making a slow circuit of the room, and inspecting each relief sculpture.
“The kind that won’t be missed,” Lark said.
“Are you the cause of the recent wave of disappearances among the homeless?” Maddock asked. Lark shrugged indifferently.
“That wasn’t my decision,” Isla said. “The Tuatha are working with another organization. They are much more powerful than we, and they have some very specific beliefs about certain classes of people.”
“That’s disgusting,” Maddock said.
“It’s done and dusted, so no point arguing about it now. Unless you’re ready to call off our deal.”
Maddock bit back a sharp retort. As long as Spenser was under his captor’s thumb, he had to play along. He racked his brain, trying to remember all he had read about the legendary king.
According to traditional local beliefs, people possessed mana, a sort of spiritual energy related to forces of nature, such as wind, thunder, and lightning. Kamehameha the Great was said to have been a divine child, born with an abundance of mana, and accumulating it at a prodigious rate during his lifetime.
“Wind, thunder, and lightning,” he said aloud.
“Way ahead of you,” Isla said. “Haikili, the god of thunder, is represented over there.” She pointed across the room. “Touch anywhere on her surface and you get a deadly shock. Same with Kaha’i, demigod of thunder and lightning.” She pointed to another figure. “And then there’s Paka’a, god of the wind. Touch him and he blasts you with poison gas.”
Maddock scratched his head. “Kamehameha the Great was associated with Kū, the god of war. I suppose you’ve tried that one?”
Isla nodded. “A trapdoor sprang open and dropped Lark’s ‘contractor’ into a lava pit. The other images on the wall seem to be benign. They don’t trigger any traps, but neither do they open anything or appear to hold any secrets.”
“What’s that figure over there?” Maddock pointed to the stylized image of a reptilian warrior bearing a shining spear.
“We believe that is Waka, the lizard goddess,” Isla said.
Maddock had seen artistic representations of Waka before, and she bore no resemblance to this figure. It was humanoid, with reptilian scales and a flat nose.
“You sure about that?” he asked.
“It might be one of the other lizard deities. But I know for certain that it’s only a statue. No traps.”
Maddock had a feeling she was hiding something, but he let it drop for the moment. He looked down at the floor, stamped his foot.
“Any hollow spaces?”
“Only the trapdoor that leads to the lava. Everything else appears to be solid, including the ceiling.” Isla glanced up. “We even tried moving the Naha Stone, but it won’t budge.”
That left the star pattern on the floor as the only possible clue. Maddock knelt and ran his fingers across the constellation at his feet. The stars that made up the constellation Orion had been melted into the rock, leaving a glossy sheen on the surface. They sparkled when the beam of his flashlight passed over them.
“What celestial objects are associated with Kamehameha?” he asked.
“Only Halley’s Comet, but it’s not represented here.” Isla heaved a tired sigh. “So close, yet so far away. Who knows where the bones are hidden?”
“That’s it!” Maddock sprang to his feet and hurried to the other side of the room.
“What’s it?”
“You reminded me of an old proverb I turned up in my research. ‘The morning star alone knows where Kamehameha’s bones are guarded.’” He dropped to his knees beside a large, diamond-shaped mark on the floor. “Another name for Venus is The Morning Star.” He looked up at Isla, who was staring dumbfounded at him. “Got a knife?”
Isla shook her head.
“Here you go.” Lark took out a large folding knife and slid it across the floor to him.
Maddock opened it and lined the point up with the center of Venus. If he was wrong, he might be the next victim of this strange room. Gritting his teeth, he raised the knife and plunged it downward. The glossy surface shattered, revealing a slot cut into the rock. Maddock inserted the knife into the slot and gave it a twist. It turned slowly and then locked into place.
Silence, and then a series of loud clacking sounds like giant boulders knocking together. The floor vibrated. In the center of the chamber, the section of floor on which the Naha Stone lay gradually flipped up onto its side.
“There’s another part of the Naha Stone legend,” Maddock said. “If someone were to overturn the stone, that person would be granted the power to unify all of Hawaii.”
Isla nodded. “And the mana stored in the bones of Kamehameha the Great would be a prize for any aspiring ruler.”
For a moment, things felt normal between them, two colleagues discussing a topic of mutual interest. It was over in an instant.
Where the stone had lain moments before was a round shaft. Stone steps were set in the wall, and they followed them down to the next level. Lark kept her eyes on Maddock and her hand close to her revolver. His success had not earned him any trust.
They found themselves standing before another pit, this one so deep they could not see the bottom. A stone bridge spanned the gap, leading to a pyramidal-shaped doorway on the opposite side. Five stone warriors stood single file in the middle of the bridge. They were clad only in seaweed. Their decaying flesh was sloughing off the bone. They were armed with spears and shark tooth clubs. The one in the lead held a conch shell to his lips.
“What are those?” Lark asked. For the first time, she appeared nervous.
“Nightmarchers,” Maddock said. “They are the vanguard of a sacred king. They rise from the sea at night. They float above the ground, but witnesses report hearing their drums, conch shells, and the sound of marching feet.”
“These statues are going to try to kill us, aren’t they?” Lark asked.
Maddock looked the statues over. They were magnificent works of art, but they appeared purely ceremonial to him—a royal guard to escort the king on to the next world.
“I think we’re safe from the statues, but the bridge might present a challenge.” Its surface was set with hexagonal paving stones, each with a different image engraved on its surface—sea creatures and local flora and fauna. “I have a feeling there’s a right way and a wrong way to do this.”
“Does the legend mention a way to kill a Nightmarcher?” Lark asked.
“Pure light, whatever that means. And you can keep them away by planting live shrubbery around your house.”
“We want a shrubbery!” Isla said in a high-pitched voice.
Maddock didn’t crack a smile. Their days of inside jokes were long past.
“Night-blooming jasmine. That’s a shrub.” Isla pointed to a distinctive pattern of leaves and blooms.
“You’re sure about that?” Maddock asked.
“Pretty sure, but I’m still going to let you go first.” Isla flashed a tentative smile, but it flickered and died.
“If it helps, night-blooming jasmine is known as the Queen of the Night,” Lark offered. “A queen for the king.”
“I’ll take any connection I can get, however tenuous, at this point.” Figuring there was no time like the present, Maddock stepped out onto the nearest jasmine tile. He held his breath as he put his full weight on it. Nothing exploded or otherwise ended his life and he saw no reason to stand around waiting for something bad to happen. He leaped from one stone to the next, keeping a sharp eye out for the so-called ‘Queen of the Night’.
“You all right?” Isla called when he was halfway across.
“I’m not dead yet.” He chimed instinctively, then kicked himself for the lapse. “Right now, I’m more concerned that one of these statues is going to fall on me. They are wobbly as hell.”
To symbolize their ability to fly, the Nightmarchers had been set on blocks of quartz crystal. Now, the crystals were crumbling, and a couple of the statues were barely standing upright. Maddock figured that whatever trap or snare was lying outside the safe path, it wouldn’t differentiate between a falling man and a falling statue. He slowed his pace and cautiously continued his trek across the void. When he came abreast of the last Nightmarcher, he paused.
“What in the hell?”
The first four Nightmarchers had been human—two male, two female—the sculptor had rendered enough flesh on their decaying carcasses to make the distinction. But the last in line was something else entirely.
It had a narrow face, bulbous eyes, and a flat nose. The flesh that clung to its arms was scaly. Maddock was forcibly reminded of a discovery he and Bones had made on a recent expedition in South America. Another reptilian. But that was a mystery for another day.
He reached the other side safely and waited for Isla and Lark to catch up. A few paces away loomed the arched doorway into the next chamber. They shined their lights inside and Isla gasped.
“Oh, my Goddess! We found it!”