Chapter Twenty-Six

The group gathered around the opening. Several feet down, the darkness absorbed the beams from their headlamps. Each step was a chiseled ledge too small for human feet. The descending staircase was so steep that looking down gave Imogen vertigo. An odor escaped from the hole, damp and earthy, like a creek after a storm.

Trummel lit a torch and dropped it down the staircase. The torch kept falling, down and down. At last the flames snuffed out.

Quig chattered nervously.

Trummel hushed him. “Listen…”

Hollow sounds echoed from somewhere deep within the shaft.

The blind man nodded. “We’re very close. Yes, yes. Do you feel that, everyone?”

Imogen’s body tingled. A strange vibration emanated from below. It rose up her boots, her legs, reverberating in her chest. “A rhythmic pulse of some sort.”

Quig held up his shaking hand. “Bloody hell. I’m vibrating like a tuning fork.”

Trummel grinned. “It’s powerful. All that energy stored for centuries.”

“Kahf Alssulta,” Imogen said. “Grandfather wrote that the Greeks and Romans called this cave system ‘the Cave of Power.’”

“It contains a source that men have been seeking for ages.” Trummel’s eyes were alight.

“Is that what you’re after then?” she asked. “Power?”

“I’m here for the same reason as you. To succeed where your grandfather failed.” Trummel waited to see that his insult had stung.

“You’re here because I was kind enough to lend you his map.”

Trummel knew better than to argue. Imogen always had the last word. He looked at his watch. “We’ve burned over half a day. We need to conserve batteries. Everyone except Goss and me, turn your headlamps off.”

After seven people shut off their helmet lamps and electric torches, the group remained silent.

Trummel turned to Gosswick. “Rig up the climbing rope.”

* * *

Once the rope was secured with a pulley system, Trummel looked at his team. “We need a volunteer to make the first descent.”

No one spoke.

“I’ll go first.” Caleb looked past the steep staircase into the black void. Whatever lay beyond that darkness, he wanted to be the first to see it. He switched on his helmet lamp, but the beam only lit up a dozen more steps that led deeper down the cave’s throat.

“Are you sure you’ve got the climbing skills for this?” Trummel asked.

“I’ve rock climbed before.” This was true. Only it had been outside, in broad daylight, scaling mountains. This was like descending into a bottomless well. The narrow steps would offer purchase but not much. “When I finally reach bottom, how do I signal you?”

“Tug on the rope a few times,” Gosswick said.

“Here take this with you.” Trummel handed Caleb a small Union Jack flag the size of a kerchief. “If there’s enough passage to continue down there then stay at the bottom. Tie this flag to the rope and send it back up. We’ll join you as quickly as we can get everybody down.”

Caleb nodded and tucked the flag kerchief in his pocket.

Gosswick wrapped climbing rope around Caleb’s waist. “You’ve got bollocks, Flash. Don’t break your neck.”

Quig and Sykes worked together, lowering Caleb into the hole. Cool, clammy air struck the back of his neck. He kicked off the steps to guide himself down, leaping a few feet at a time. The light above diminished as the circle where the others stood grew smaller and farther away.

The tube’s walls were engraved with alien symbols. Caleb’s hand traced the etchings as he passed them on his way down.

A hundred feet down, the staircase disappeared into a dark silver pool. Its surface mirrored his reflection.

“Hold up!” Caleb called. He grabbed on to the side of the stairwell. The rope tightened. Using the rock steps for guidance, he lowered himself until his hand reached the pool’s watery surface.

Only it wasn’t water. Its texture felt dry, like running his fingers through liquid mercury. The reflective surface rippled when he touched it. He couldn’t see what lay beyond.

Trummel called down, his voice reverberating. “Are you at the bottom yet?”

“I’m not sure,” Caleb responded. “I seem to have reached a spot that defies the laws of physics.”

He slowly stuck his entire arm through the pool. The surface yielded and a texture, like tiny mercury beads, formed around his bicep. This sensation only happened for a few inches. Then on the other side, he felt air that was slightly cooler than the air in the stairwell. Other than that, his outstretched fingers touched nothing. When he pulled his hand back out, it was completely dry.