Eventually Maya climbed the Jeep out of the gully and headed uphill. The jungle didn't thin, it simply became slanted. The going got rougher as we bounced along a rudimentary trail. At one point we slowed to a crawl to negotiate our way past a pair of old huipil-clad women, each leading a burro-powered wagon.
We stopped where the ground leveled out in a narrow pass between a couple of the mountains. Maya had brought along some rice and beans wrapped in thick corn tortillas, and we ate them, washing them down with cool tea from a thermos.
After a bumpy ride through the pass, we made it to the other side of the mountains. It was drier here, and the trees seemed more coniferous, but it was just as green.
“Why travel all this distance for tines?” I said. “You seemed to have a nice collection back in Katonah.”
“Yes, but they are mine. I am taking you to places where you can find your own. They will help you harmonize with the Mother.”
“You're talking about a planet as if it's a person. The earth is a clump of stellar debris circling a ball of fusing hydrogen.”
Maya shook her head. “The earth is a living thing, the All-Mother. Some call her Gaea, some call her Tellus, but by whatever name, she is alive.”
“Sorry,” I said, always careful about treading on someone's holy ground, “but planets are not alive.”
“Maybe Mercury and Venus and Mars and the rest aren't, but ours is. When the living things on a planet reach a certain critical mass, the combined life force imbues the planet with a life of its own, separate from the creatures it nourishes. The planet itself becomes an entity.”
I said nothing, just rolled my eyes.
“I know some things that you do not, Dr. Burleigh,” she said with a touch of heat that brought a bit more French into her accent. I kind of liked that. “And this is one of them: Gaea is real, she is the All-Mother, your mother. Your mother loves you. She will heal you if you will let her.”
I was struck by the sincerity and deep belief in her voice. But that wasn't enough. I could not accept her Gaea.
And I knew I was on her holy ground.
“Call me Will,” I said to change the subject.
“No,” she said. “I will call you Cecil.”
“Forget it!”
“Yes,” she said, smiling now. “You are Cecil until you learn to see.”
Swell. I'd always hated that name.
Around us the trees were thinning enough to allow glimpses of the sun. From its angle I gathered that we were presently traveling northwest.
“All right,” I said. “So we're going in search of these tines. What's so special about them?”
“They are hidden in four places, and the tines you will find in those places have not been touched by another living creature for ages. Once you take and hold one, it will become yours forever.”
“‘For ages,’ eh? How come?”
“They are ancient, from another time, forged by another race. Their locations are secret. And even after you know the locations, the tines are not easy to reach.”
I wasn't sure I liked the sound of that.
We wound along a sloping path until the trees abruptly disappeared, leaving us in the open.
“Here we are,” Maya said.
I expected to see a clearing, but instead an open pit gaped before us. I got out and walked to the edge. It looked as if a giant angry fist had punched into the crust of the mountainside, leaving a rough hole about a hundred feet across. A meteor, maybe? Or just some sort of sink hole. I peered over the edge. Ragged sandstone walls dropped a good fifty feet to the sloping, sand-covered floor.
“You're going to tell me the tines are down there, aren't you.”
“Only one of them. There's a little cave at the bottom that—”
“You really expect me to go down there?”
“You must. How else will you find your first harmonic?” She stared into the pit. “I was hoping it had rained here, but apparently the storms stayed on the other side of the mountains. This will make it more difficult.”
More difficult? Not what I wanted to hear. I considered those steep walls and didn't like what I saw.
“Look, I'm not a mountain climber. There's no way I can make it to the bottom.”
“You had almost no sleep last night. Do you not feel strong enough today?”
“I'm okay that way. I just—”
“Are you afraid of heights?”
“No. Not really.”
“Good. Because we must stay on schedule.”
“What schedule?”
“You must have all your tines before the full moon.”
“What's the full moon got to do with it?”
“You will see. Come,” she said, turning away. “Help me.”
I followed her back to the Jeep and might have been more interested in the sway of her hips beneath her huipil if that pit hadn't been yawning behind me. I helped her haul a long coil of half-inch rope from under my duffel.
I grunted as I hefted it onto my shoulder. “How long is this?”
“Almost two hundred feet.”
She pulled a cloth sack from the Jeep and together we returned to the edge. I dropped the rope near an ocote pine and peeked again into the pit. I felt my insides begin to constrict. How was I going to do this?
I licked dry lips. “Where's that cave you mentioned?”
“Straight down from here,” she said. “Because the sand is dry, it is best to approach the cave from directly above.”
“How many people do this?”
“Very, very few. It is a secret place.”
“You've been down there?”
She nodded. “Many years ago.”
“What's the problem with the sand being dry?”
“If you disturb it too much, it will start sliding into the cave mouth.”
“And that's bad?”
“It will seal the cave until the next rain.”
I took a deep, anxious breath. I didn't want to do this, but couldn't bring myself to tell Maya I was too scared to try. Especially since she'd already been down and back.
Male pride—it's a hell of a burden.
She began looping the rope around my waist.
“This will keep you from falling.”
I liked that idea. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad.
She secured it with some sort of non-slip knot, then reached into her bag and brought out a flashlight and two pairs of sturdy-looking work gloves. She clipped the flashlight to my belt, then handed me the larger pair of gloves.
“To protect your hands on the climb.”
I pulled them over my sweaty palms. It was hot out there in the direct sunlight, but that wasn't why my palms were wet.
Maya slipped into her own gloves, then freed a length of rope from the coil and wound it around the trunk of the pine.
“Ready?” she said.
No, I was not ready. Not even close to ready. Every neuron in my body, especially the more primitive ones in the hindbrain where selfpreservation was the prime directive, screamed in protest. They thought they were still part of the old safe-and-sane Will Burleigh who'd never be part of a crazy stunt like this. But I'd left the old Will behind in New York. The new Will was damned if he wasn't going to live differently.
On the edge . . . very literally.
I can do this, I told myself. Maya did it. So can I.
Steeling myself against a rush of vertigo, I knelt on the edge and slipped my foot over. I found a toehold, paused for a deep breath, then lowered myself over and began my descent.
The first ten feet or so were rough going, and I was glad Maya had supplied me with gloves—the practice of internal medicine does not exactly prepare hands for clinging to rock. After that the wall sloped outward at a slight angle which made it easier to see where to put my feet.
Maya was leaving about two feet of slack in the rope. I learned that the hard way when my foot slipped and I lost my grip. I heard myself cry out in panic as I began to drop—but I fell only two feet before the rope snapped taught, cinching tight around my waist. I spun 180 degrees, bumping the back of my head against the rock.
“Are you all right?” I heard Maya call from above.
“Yeah,” I said, dizzy and hurting as I frantically turned myself around and clutched at the sandstone. “Fine. Just a little slip.”
I found a new perch on the wall, waited for my taching heart to slow, then continued down.
Somehow I managed to reach the bottom without catastrophe.
“I'm here!” I shouted.
I saw Maya's face appear over the ledge above. She smiled. “Wonderful. Stay right there while I send more of the rope down.”
Almost immediately a seemingly endless length of rope began to snake over the rim and collect in a coil at my feet.
I looked around. The sandy floor of the pit sloped up and away from me at a good thirty-degree angle. The sand seemed to funnel down to a point a dozen feet to my right. I stepped away from the wall and spotted a dark crescent in the sandstone, maybe two feet high at its widest point. That had to be the cave mouth she'd mentioned.
I wiped my dripping face with my sleeve. Not a whiff of a breeze down here, and with sun directly overhead, the floor of the pit was like a giant wok.
The rope finally stopped falling, but a length still trailed up the pit wall. Maya's face appeared again.
“I have fastened the other end up here. Leave the rope tied about your waist.”
“Why?”
“So you do not get lost in the cave.”
Lost? How big was this cave?
“All right,” I called. “You're the boss.”
“Stay close to the wall as you approach the cave mouth,” she said. “Disturb the sand as little as possible. And once inside, stay to the right. That path will take you to the tines.”
“Gotcha.”
“And remember, touch only one tine, the tine you will take and make your own. Leave the others alone.”
With my back brushing the rock, I sidled along the wall to the mouth of the cave and peered inside. Dark as a grave in there. I went back and dragged the coils of rope to the mouth. The idea of an umbilical cord to the outside was looking better all the time.
I crouched and slid my feet toward the opening. Despite the heat, a chill of foreboding rippled over my skin at the thought of allowing myself to be swallowed by that hole. Who knew what was in there?
I pulled out my flashlight and aimed it through but the sun was too bright for me to make out any details.
Then I noticed the sand I'd disturbed starting to slide into the opening. I figured I'd better get moving before I disturbed some more. I entered feet-first on my belly.
More sand followed me inside and I noticed that the floor of the cave continued the slope of the pit. Maya had said to stay to the right and that was the way I rolled.
I sat up and brushed myself off, watching with mounting unease as the sand continued to slide into the opening, further narrowing the crescent of sunlight it admitted. Finally the sand slowed and stopped. I was relieved to see that I still had enough room to get out.
I closed my eyes to speed their adjustment to the darkness. At least it was cool in here, almost cold compared to the floor of the pit. When I opened my eyes again and played my flashlight beam along the walls, I saw that I was in a small chamber. A few large stalactites hung from the ceiling, but the sandy floor before me was smooth as baby's skin. No tracks other than my own. That was encouraging—I could safely assume that I wouldn't be running into any animals in here.
The chamber connected to a pair of tunnels; the one on the left was larger and ran steeply downward into yawning blackness. The one to the right had only a slight decline.
I started along the right. The ceiling of the tunnel gradually lowered until I was walking in a crouch, and then crawling on my hands and knees. It widened eventually into a chamber some twenty feet across—a blind chamber with a rutted ceiling only slightly higher than the tunnel's.
I squatted on my haunches and looked around, puzzled. I knew Maya had said stay to the right, and I had, but there was nothing here. Had I missed a side passage somewhere?
I was about to turn and go back when I noticed a darker area in the shadow behind one of the ceiling ruts. I crawled over for a closer look at what I assumed was a pocket recess and instead found a twofoot opening in the ceiling. I shone may flashlight inside and saw a narrow passage running upward at a steep angle for a couple of feet, then making a sharp turn . . . to where?
It looked like a tight fit. I wasn't claustrophobic, but the very real possibility of becoming wedged in that sandstone straitjacket, unable to move forward or back, broke my skin out in a clammy sweat.
I thrust my flashlight further into the opening and aimed the beam around the corner. The light that filtered back was brighter than I'd expected, and had a warm buttery glow . . . as if reflecting from a glossy surface.
I was going to have to crawl in. I didn't like the idea, but I'd come this far already. I simply told myself that if at any point I felt the passage was too tight, I'd retreat.
Keeping the flashlight extended before me, I eased myself into the vertical section and scraped my way up to the turn. I trained the light along the horizontal passage and blinked at a shimmering array of smoky yellow crystals, a huge pincushion of glittering six-sided needles not ten feet away.
I hauled myself up and belly-crawled the rest of the way on my elbows and knees with only a few scrapes and scratches. I thrust my head, arms, and shoulders into the three-foot-wide geode at the end of the passage and stared in wonder at the dazzling display around me. Hundreds of glittering golden spikes of all sizes jutted from every angle, like the ventricle of a crystal heart.
And jutting from the floor of that heart . . . four golden metal tines.
I stared in awe. Someone had fashioned these, hammered them into shape, then inserted them into the base of this huge, damn-near inaccessible geode. How long ago? And why? So that someone like me could come along ages later and find my “first harmonic”? It seemed beyond belief.
It seemed like sacrilege to take one, but I'd come this far and I wasn't about to come away empty-handed. I reached for the nearest tine and wrapped my fingers around it. Did I feel a surge of magical warmth arc up my arm? Did I feel a tingle of All-Mother energy course through me?
No. The only thing I felt was that I was somehow desecrating this beautiful display. But I had put myself in Maya's hands, and she'd sent me here to find them and make one my own.
I worked the tine free and started backing out. I had a bad moment when the rope around my waist bunched up and caught on the turn, but I wriggled around that and dropped back into the chamber below. I took another look at the tine, twisting it in the flashbeam and watching the golden reflections dance on the stone walls. Then I shoved it into a pocket and headed back the way I'd come.
I was feeling a little giddy as I followed the rope, looping it and carrying it along as I traveled. I'd done it. This wasn't like climbing Everest, or breaking the sound barrier, but for Will Burleigh, this was quite a feat.
When I saw the opening and the sunlight blazing through from beyond, I quickened my pace. I felt like a little kid finally getting his turn at Show and Tell. I wanted to show the teacher my prize.
I ducked into the opening and started to scramble through.
“Maya!” I called as I hit the sunlight. “I did it! I got one!”
“Will!” she cried from above. “The sand!”
I'd forgotten about the sand. It began to fall away beneath my feet, sliding into the passage opening, carrying me with it. I struggled to get free, but that only caused more sand to break loose and slide toward me, pushing me further. I was being carried back inside.
I cried out and frantically grabbed hold of the lip of the cave mouth but the sand kept coming, faster and faster in a miniature landslide, filling in around me, choking the opening. I fought to keep my head free but the sand was flowing too fast. In seconds I was covered. Now I panicked and struggled like a madman—the cave entrance was filled; I couldn't move forward or back. I was trapped and I could tell by the increasing weight on my head and arms that more and more sand was collecting above me. No air! I was going to die!
And then I felt something snaking by me, rubbing against my left leg and arm—the rope. I grabbed at it, got a grip and held on with whatever strength was left in my air-starved muscles. My head banged and dragged against the upper edge of the cave mouth but I wasn't letting go. I felt myself pull free of the smothered opening, and then I was in the light, gasping lungfuls of air.
I let go of the rope and rolled to the side. I landed on my hands and knees, coughing and retching.
Suddenly I felt the rope tighten viciously around my waist. Next thing I knew I was being hauled into the air, kicking and struggling as I banged against the wall of the pit. But how? Maya didn't have the strength for this. Even if Ambrosio had arrived to help her, they couldn't haul me up at this speed. Did she have superhuman strength?
Abruptly I stopped rising and hung suspended thirty feet above the floor of the pit. I tried to call Maya's name but I still had too much sand in my mouth and throat. I looked up and saw her face reappear over the edge.
“Oh, my!” she said. “I went too far. Stay there! I'm going to pull you the rest of the way up!”
Stay there? What else could I do?
Seconds later, I began rising again. To avoid getting banged up even more than I already was, I grabbed the edge of the wall when I reached the top, and levered myself up and over.
The rope slackened immediately and I slumped face first onto the ground, panting and groaning.
I heard running footsteps approaching, and Maya's anxious voice.
“Will? Will, are you all right?”
I rolled over. Maya was looking down at me with a worried expression.
“Do I look all right?” I croaked.
“No. You are covered with sand and your scalp is bleeding.”
“I feel worse.”
“Is anything broken?”
I didn't think so. I struggled to my knees and Maya gave me a hand up to my feet.
“I'm okay,” I told her. I wasn't, really. I hurt all over, my head was pounding, and my insides were jittering with adrenaline overload. “But that was too close. I damn near smothered down there.”
“When I saw all that sand breaking free and sliding toward you, I didn't know what to do.”
“You knew exactly what to do—and you did it. But how? One person, I don't care how strong, doesn't have the strength to . . .”
As I was speaking my gaze had been running along the length of the rope, following it all the way to the rear bumper of the Jeep.
“Oh,” I said. “I see.”
Quick thinking. Would I have thought of that if positions had been reversed? I felt a burst of warmth for this strange woman, and a little guilty that I'd doubted her motives for bringing me here. Even if she had discrepancies in her background, she'd just saved my life.
“Thank you.”
“Do not thank me. It was I who endangered your life by sending you down there. I am so sorry this happened.”
“I got careless,” I said, reaching into my pocket. “I was kind of excited about finding this.”
I pulled out the tine and handed it to her. She backed away with her hands flying out to the sides.
“No. Do not let me touch it. Do not let anybody touch it. That is your tine and only you may touch it.”
“Why's that?”
“I will explain later. We will be spending the night not far from here. After we clean you up I will tell you.”
Cleaning up—what a wonderful thought.