Outside the Cave Entrance
Emily’s features brightened as Michael ran with Chris’s observation. ‘A measure. Especially in ancient cultures, the hand was a commonplace rule. It’s not exact, but it’s reasonably effective for general lengths. The width of an open hand, usually a man’s, measured from the tip of the pinky to the tip of the thumb.’
‘So we have a measure directing us towards our real objective,’ Chris affirmed, taking up the concept and pushing it forward. ‘But what do we measure from?’
‘From the “X”,’ Emily replied, standing upright. ‘From right here. We’re standing on the ledge outside the mouth to this cave. We need to measure off thirty-two hand widths from this spot, bearing a line south-west.’
Michael asked the obvious question. ‘Which way is south-west?’
‘Always be prepared,’ Chris muttered, repeating his mantra as he fished a small plastic compass out of his bag. He made a point of elbowing Michael sternly in the ribs as he held it up to the light, his face aglow with a new optimism. ‘That way,’ he indicated, taking his bearing. His hand motioned upwards along the cliff-face, askance and twenty degrees to the right of their position.
Michael shook his head. ‘No, I mean which way is south-west, according to that map.’ He pointed again to the printed document.
Chris’s expression was unreadable, and he simply held out the compass a second time. ‘I’ve already told you, south-west is—’
‘Today,’ Michael interrupted. ‘South-west is that direction today. But this map was drawn several centuries ago.’
Emily nodded. ‘Two hundred, maybe two hundred and fifty.’
‘And?’ Chris probed.
‘I’m sure you’re experienced in magnetic field variations, as they affect map reading today?’ Michael brought his gaze back to Chris’s as the FBI operative nodded, perplexed.
‘The variation between magnetic north and true north has to be figured into any computation made from a compass.’ Chris looked down at the small, plastic device in his hand, catching a faint glimmer of where Michael was going, but not yet fully able to follow.
‘And that variation depends on geographic location,’ Michael added. ‘As well as . . . anyone?’
Emily and Chris both gazed at him, neither daring an answer.
‘Time,’ Michael finally said, answering his own question. ‘Magnetic declination varies over history. It won’t be the same today as it was two hundred and fifty years ago. It’s a factor we have to allow for all the time in historical digs.’
‘This is your region, Mike,’ Emily noted. ‘Does that mean you know the figures?’
‘I can only make a rough approximation, since we don’t know the exact date the map was produced. But if your guess of two hundred and fifty years is correct, I would put the negative declination here at about ten or eleven degrees, more or less.’
‘Which means?’
‘Which means south-west on that map is south-south-west on our compass.’
Chris, now absorbed in the computations, glanced down at his compass and then held out his arm at a new angle. ‘That puts it down that line.’
‘Okay, that’s the direction. It’s time to measure. Use your right hand, Mike,’ Emily ordered. She marked an ‘X’ in the sand of the ledge with the toe of her shoe. Michael bent down to comply, flipping his hand, pinky to thumb, again and again, working his way to the right of the cave entrance and further up the steep, stony landscape.
No wonder the instruction was written, not marked, Emily thought to herself as he worked. It was not only meant to keep it hidden, but it’s a scale too small for the map itself.
After thirty-two measures, Michael stopped. Emily clambered up the rocks after him, balancing at his side.
‘Em’, Michael began, ‘there’s nothing he—’
‘Shh!’ she commanded, cutting him off. Everything in her told her they were on the right track.
Standing upright, clinging to Michael’s arm for support, she surveyed the scene before her. Below, to their left, was the small cave, Chris still standing outside it. To her right, nothing but more rock. Above, the cliff continued, the stone folding, arching and bending into the darkness of shadow and light.
And then, as her gaze swept over the scene, her eyes caught the illusion.
From her new position, the gap between two large stone protrusions slightly above them came into view. And there, in the tiny space between, a spot of blackness. Her heart began to race. She took a step to her left and the angle changed, the hidden space disappearing. Two to her right, to the same effect. Only when she returned to Michael’s side, at the spot exactly thirty-two hands south-west of the ledge marked ‘X’ on their map, did the tiny pin-prick of darkness above them become visible.
It was the entrance to another cave.
The speed with which the trio climbed to the new cave’s entrance matched the enthusiasm that filled them after Emily’s discovery. There was no ledge here, only the support of the two angular folds in the stone that kept the cave hidden from view below. Reaching them, out of breath and clinging perilously to the rock face, there was no opportunity for casual discussion. Michael, who arrived first, pulled his body into the darkness. Emily followed, and Chris brought up the rear.
In a matter of seconds, they had disappeared from the desert landscape, as hidden from view as the cave itself.