The Crisis Artifact (Book 1 in the Crisis Trilogy)

Caesar was studying the fire symbol on the wall when he noticed a thin vertical division at the center of it. The fissure ran the entire height of the wall, from floor to ceiling. Doors, he thought, but these doors were taller than any he’d ever seen.

“Now what?” Galton asked Caesar.

Caesar gestured toward the doorway. “This wall is a pair of doors.”

“Uh-huh. How we open ’em?”

“I’m not sure.”

Caesar reached out and rested his palm flat against the embossed surface of the symbol, which was no longer emitting a visible glow. The lights in the room flickered, and the large stone doors began to slide apart with a grating sound.

Another immense room was revealed.

As the five men made their way into an enormous chamber, Galton whistled. “Sweet daisies. Look at the size of this place. It’s bigger’n Dallas in here.”

“It seems bigger on the inside than out,” El Capitán noted.

“The ancients were good at illusions, but I don’t think this is one of them,” Caesar said. “It really is big. We must be near the base of the temple.”

In the center of the room stood a black circular dais, six feet off the ground and more than ten feet in diameter. Four sets of steps led up to what appeared to be four black carved thrones situated at right angles to one another. Caesar pulled his compass from a pocket of his jungle vest and determined that the thrones faced north, south, east, and west. Each supported a stone figure, most likely deities that represented the four elements, which were also represented aboveground at the entrances. On the chest of each statue was an embossed symbol denoting its element.

While Caesar examined the fire figure, one of the guards whistled and said, “Mira aqui,” while pointing at one of the walls in the room.

The wall was glowing. The other walls started to glow, and tiny bursts of blue light appeared randomly around the room.

Caesar pulled out his compass again and flipped it open. The needle was spinning so fast it was a blur. He looked at Galton. “This temple is a giant energy collector. These blue bursts are excess energy dissipating into the room. The entire outer shell, which must be twenty feet thick, is the conductor, and the empty interior—this room—functions as the housing. This is where the collected energy is stored. A lot of that energy is also being released into the room we just left.”

“Figures why it’s so bright in there,” Galton said. “Bright as the sun you ask me.”

“In a way, it is the sun,” Caesar continued. “When I retraced the fire symbol on the wall in that room, I redirected the energy away from the passageway, which is why you could make it down here unharmed. The energy was absorbed back into the walls. You can tell that from the lit sconces—they’re actually energy release points— which the ancients designed.”

“Smart hombres, them ancients,” Galton said.

Caesar nodded. “At first it puzzled me, but entering this room and seeing the blue electric bursts makes it all clear. The sconces in the other room reveal the full intensity of the energy. It’s like staring into the sun. This room contains no sconces, which is why it’s not as bright, but sunlight is still reaching us through the luminous walls.”

“How you know all this, Caesar?” Galton asked. “Because I have to tell you, I have read your books—hard as that may be to believe— and I don’t recall you mentioning any such things.”

“It isn’t in my books,” Caesar said.

“You just dreamed it up, then, huh?”

Caesar smiled. “Funny you should mention dreaming.”

“Yeah, I’m a right funny guy.”

“Remember the strange waking dreams I told you about?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, everything is slowly being revealed to me. I’ve seen all this in dreams—bits and pieces here and there—but it comes together in my mind as time passes.”

“Don’t let too much time pass,” Galton said.

Caesar glanced at the random blue bursts. “This all seems so familiar. In a way, I feel like I’m home.”

Galton chuckled. “Then head on over to your room, grab the artifact from the top drawer, and let’s hightail it outta here.”

Caesar ignored his father-in-law and turned to face the others. “I’ll need you to look for smaller symbols on the walls, mainly circles within squares. Use your UV blockers and search each wall carefully. Mr. Galton and I will be over there.” He pointed to the center of the room.

Just to the side of each set of steps leading up to the dais were four openings in the floor that revealed stairs leading down to a lower level. Caesar closed his eyes for a moment as if deep in thought, then turned to Galton. “Each set of stairs represents a doorway to the soul,” he said, as he stared down into the stairwell that lined up with the Earth deity.

Galton raised an eyebrow. “More dreams?”

“I believe the ancients saw the opening as a conduit through which they could pass on unlimited knowledge to the one who entered safely and took possession of the artifact. We have to choose the right opening.”

Caesar pointed to the stone Earth deity enthroned directly in front of them. “If you look at their chests, you’ll see the same symbols as we saw on the walls outside the temple, but I doubt they align with those. For one thing, given the vantage point of that dais”—he pointed his finger at the vast pedestal—“you’ll notice that the thrones point toward the four corners of the temple, and not the walls.”

“Why don’t they line up?” Galton asked. “Makes common sense if them symbols line up inside and out.”

“My theory is that the ancients figured anyone intent on stealing the artifact would draw the same conclusion. Any thief who happened to make it this far would likely choose the same symbol as he chose on the ledge. But only one opening will lead to the artifact. The others are traps.”

“You saying the fire symbol ain’t the way in this time around?” Galton asked.

“Highly unlikely.”

Caesar paused a moment and thought about the bodies of the dead scientists strewn about the base of the temple and how it had been impossible for them to survive even the first entrance. No one in his right mind would have attempted to enter after seeing another person die like that. Someone must have forced them, someone who knew of the existence of the artifact. Whoever it was had sacrificed the entire crew in a desperate attempt to seize the artifact. Too bad the Peruvian government hadn’t overseen the operation. Unless someone had paid off the government to stay away.

A shadowy movement drew Caesar’s attention, and he thought he saw the old man from his dreams dart by. Memories of the dreams flooded his mind, and he heard the old man’s whispered voice inside his head. You are destined to be the Keeper of the Keys.

He looked at Galton. “You hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Caesar looked around, but all he saw were the two bodyguards and El Capitán standing before the temple walls searching for symbols. “Never mind.”

Galton stared at him. “You startin’ to worry me, son.”

Caesar ignored him and shifted his focus to the earth symbol in front of them. The voice inside his head faded, and his professional knowledge and experience came to the fore. Since the artifact was buried deep within the temple, or in the “earth,” the earth symbol was the obvious choice.

“I’m going in,” he announced.

Galton arched an eyebrow at him. “Ain’t you gonna do something fancy, like cover your head in a tater sack or hop around in a rain dance?”

Caesar pointed toward the stairs at the base of the Earth figure. “I’m going to walk down those steps. That fancy enough for you?”

His aching leg forced him to step carefully, and he reached out to steady himself against the side wall. Halfway down, he stopped, an uneasy feeling coming over him. The temperature in the narrow space had dropped about thirty degrees in an instant.

Something wasn’t right. Caesar backed up a step and squinted as he tried to make out a shadow moving about in the darkness below him. A sudden gust of wind seemed to pass through him, and the force of the invisible presence pushed him backward. He lost his balance and toppled. He slid down a few steps before he could stop himself. As he struggled to his feet, the dark apparition reappeared and circled around him, finally coming face to face.

“Grace?” he whispered, as he reached out to touch her, or it— whatever it was. But the shadow faded into the blackness of the passageway below.

Caesar pulled himself up and scrambled up the steps, ignoring the pain in his leg. When he emerged through the opening, he nearly collided with Galton, who was peering into the passageway.

“What’s up?” Galton demanded. “You look like you seen a ghost.”

“I might have made a mistake,” Caesar said. “This may not be the right passageway.”

“If for sure it ain’t, then we just improved our odds,” Galton announced with a grin.

“I need to think,” Caesar said. He sat down and closed his eyes to contemplate the symbols again. He sat so long that El Capitán and the bodyguards finished their search for circles within squares. Silently, each man, including Galton, sat on the steps with Caesar as he continued to ponder.

After nearly an hour, something clicked inside his mind. If it was Grace he’d encountered, then she was trying to keep him from entering the wrong path. But had his daughter’s ghost really paid him a visit?

He knew the Earth deity’s opening had been a guess. Unlike his previous decisions, choosing the Earth symbol had been based on what seemed to be obvious information. When he realized that the obvious could actually be misleading, another piece of the puzzle was revealed to him, as a sudden insight from his waking dreams.

“The entrances associated with the symbols correspond with global cataclysms that either have or will destroy the earth,” he announced. “The higher the entrance, the more recent the corresponding cataclysm—with some still to come. Since the first entrance was near the apex, it corresponded with fire. Various myths and legends, and a variety of religions across many cultures, hold the belief that the earth will be destroyed by fire. Those who built this temple believed that as well. Since this is a future event, the fire symbol had to precede the others.”

Caesar stood and made his way to another opening in the floor. He pointed to the stone deity that sat above it. “Only one global cataclysm has happened already, and it’s also known across many cultures—the Great Flood. This is the symbol that leads to the artifact.” He pointed to the water symbol.

“You sure?” Galton asked.

Caesar gazed at him. “I’m sure.”

Galton stood up. “Let’s go fetch this thing.”

“What about traps?” El Capitán asked.

Caesar shook his head. “Nothing to worry about here. We now have more knowledge than we did before we came into the temple.”

The bodyguards rose to their feet, stretching as they did.

Caesar turned to El Capitán. “I need you three to stay up here and keep an eye out while Lionel and I retrieve the artifact. Do not try to enter any of the stairwells. You won’t survive if you do.”

“Not to worry, my friend,” said El Capitán. “We have seen the unfortunate results of stepping unwisely around here.”

Caesar turned toward the passageway to begin his descent, but El Capitán touched his arm. “Tell me something, amigo,” he said.

“Yes?” Caesar asked.

“How do we get out of here?”

Caesar smiled. “Haven’t figured that part out yet.”

Caesar and Galton headed down the stairs through the water deity’s passageway.

When they reached the bottom of the steps, Caesar noted the water symbol above the opening. He pulled Galton’s canteen off his shoulder and told his father-in-law to pour some water into his cupped hands. Not trusting his bum leg, Caesar told Galton to brace him while he reached above them to the water symbol. He let the water dribble out of his hands over the stone marker. He repeated the process until the canteen was empty and the stone was soaked. They watched for a sign that the trap had been disengaged.

The deep etchings in the symbol began to weep water. The trickle increased to a stream, until the etchings were gushing water over the opening. “It’s safe to enter,” Caesar said.

As soon as the two men passed through the waterfall, the water stopped flowing. They had entered a much smaller room than the chamber above. It was round, and three other entrances led to it. Each featured the same symbols that were above the entrances on the ledge and on the chests of the stone deities.

“If I never see those fool symbols again, it’ll be too soon,” Galton said, glaring at them.

“Here’s something odd,” Caesar said.

“You got a keen sense of understatement, son.”

Caesar pointed out that the stairs to all four entrances led away from the dais above, but seemed to converge here, even though the stairways took a straight path down.

“How could that be?”

“It can’t,” Caesar said. “It’s geometrically impossible.”

Caesar walked to the stairway below the water symbol and yelled up. “El Capitán, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” came the reply.

“I’m going to ask you three more times, so keep listening for me.”

Caesar went to each of the other three entrances and yelled into all of them. A reply came every time. He knew the temple would be full of illusions, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around this one. He figured it was best if they didn’t enter any of the other passageways.

The small room was filled with the familiar bursts of blue electric discharges, but these were brighter and more frequent than in the room above.

“Is this room giving off more juice than the others, or is it just me?” Galton asked.

“It isn’t you. There’s something powerful in here. The artifact. A lot of energy is concentrated in this room. I can feel it in the air. It’s all around us.”

In the center of the room was a small, round pillar. They walked toward it. The shiny black altar appeared to be carved from a single piece of stone and had no apparent edges at the base. It seemed to grow out of the floor. Nearly everything in the temple seemed to be made from the same material.

Atop the altar was the artifact, a shimmering twelve-inch bronze disc—a dodecagon with twelve symmetrical edges featuring the twelve raised symbols of the zodiac embossed against a field of blue. Its edges were overlaid in gold, and lying on top of the disc was a gold tumi in the form of a brilliant sun.

Galton pointed at the ceremonial knife and whistled. “That a tumi on top of that thing?” he asked.

Caesar nodded.

“What’s it there for?”

“Andean mythology holds that the Incas and those that came before them—the ancient tribe that built this temple—descended from the sun. Each year a high priest sacrificed a llama as they worshipped the sun during a special festival. He used a tumi for the sacrifice.”

“We talkin’ about sacrifices now?”

Caesar shrugged. “Seems like it. Not sure what’s supposed to be sacrificed though, or if one is even required at this time.”

“If it ain’t required, why put the dang thing there?”

“I don’t have all the answers, Lionel. And nothing is coming to me right now.”

Galton pointed to the artifact. “Any thoughts on the twelve symbols?”

Caesar shook his head. “No.”

“Maybe it’s time to reach out and touch the thing,” Galton said. “Maybe that’ll give you a jolt or a flashback from your dreams or some such. We need to know what this thing is, what it was used for.”

Caesar looked at Galton. “I know what it is.”

“Well?” Galton said.

“It’s a pectoral disc. It was worn by the Keeper of the Key. The old man in my waking dreams wore one, only it was much smaller, like a pendant. My guess is that this is the one the Keeper wore when he lived among the tribe.”

“What’s it used for?” Galton asked.

“I don’t know, but I think I’ll take you up on that suggestion about touching it.” Caesar reached out his hands toward the artifact, which sat in a recessed space on top of the altar. Both men held their breath as Caesar grasped the object and lifted it from its holder. They remained silent, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, Galton let out a rebel yell.

Caesar shot him a baleful look.

“Just glad to be alive, son.”

Suddenly every muscle in Caesar’s body went taut, and a faint buzzing resonated in his ears. The sound grew so loud that he had to set the disc back in place so he could cover his ears with his hands. When the disc was back on the altar, the recessed area lifted two inches above the top of the pillar with a click. A series of small holes spanned the edge of the projection. The men stared in horror as red smoke flowed out of the tiny holes in all directions, enveloping them.

They held their breaths as long as they could. When they finally inhaled, neither man could move. Then the visions came.

Caesar saw spectral ancient elders step through the walls and approach. One group walked to the altar and formed a circle around it. The red smoke vanished, and the old man from Caesar’s visions materialized in front of him. The old man touched his shoulder, and Caesar realized he was awake and not dreaming. The man spoke in his ancient tongue, but Caesar understood. “Break it in two.”

Caesar picked up the disc with both hands and snapped it in half as if it were Styrofoam. A blinding white light burst forth from the artifact’s two halves, and the Sagittarius symbol began to glow. Caesar’s eyes rolled back and he fell to the floor, still clutching the two shining halves of the artifact.

In his dream state, the old man sat in front of him, smiling. They were still in the small circular room, which appeared to be empty and dark, save for the light emanating from the pendant-sized disc that hung from a silver chain around the old man′s neck. The elders were gone. Caesar’s hands were empty.

“Where is Lionel?” Caesar asked.

“He is lying beside you, but he cannot see us. He sleeps.”

Caesar looked around and saw nothing. Only the walls of the room were visible, but the stairs leading out of the room were gone.

“I am happy that you finally arrived,” the old man said. “I have been waiting here since our last meeting.”

“Am I dead?” Caesar asked.

“No. You are not home yet. It is your time to work. But time is running out.”

“What are the symbols on the artifact for?”

“They grant the power of the four elements to the bearer who receives the essence of the artifact. Since the essence passed into you when you touched the artifact, your sun sign has determined which element you will express. This is based on when you were born.”

“December ninth,” Caesar said.

“Sagittarius. Fire. This is the element you will control. Your moon sign also points to Air, therefore you will wield a degree of power over this, but fire will be your main expression, whenever you choose to unleash the essence. These elements will also serve as your method of healing.”

“I don’t understand it all.”

“You will understand soon. Another must touch the artifact— the half that opposes yours. He will express the elements that are opposite those you express. Water and earth. Whoever wishes to gain access to all four elements must make the sacrifice.”

Sacrifice? Caesar understood none of it. “How do we get out of here?”

“The way will open for you. No more questions now. You must act as the artifact until she who is destined to be the Scroll becomes the living words. Once the Sacred Scroll can no longer be read, it will be done. Until that time you must protect the artifact by guarding its essence within you. Once you receive the entire essence, she who is destined to become the Scroll will be revealed to you.

“At this moment, the pendulum swings in your favor, but it begins to swing in favor of another. Such is the way of fate. While the next cataclysm is about to be witnessed, it can be prevented. But you have not much time.”

Caesar raised his head as the old man began to hover in the air. As he ascended, he began to dematerialize, and he spoke his final words: “Because you have broken the artifact and released its essence, I am no longer restricted to the land of my people. For that I thank you. You are now the Keeper of the Key that will unlock that which conceals the one who is to become the Scroll.”

The old man disappeared, and Caesar found himself on his back, the room the same as before. Galton was coming to, shaking his head as he tried to get his bearings.

“What just happened?” Galton asked.

Caesar sat up and stared at the two pieces of the artifact in his hands. “The old man came to me.”

Galton’s eyes flashed with excitement. “What’d he say?” Then he saw the broken artifact and his expression became one of dismay. “Why in blazes is the artifact busted?”

“He told me to break it.”

Galton grabbed Caesar’s arm. “Are you crazy? You know how much that thing was worth?”

“A great deal more than you imagine,” Caesar said.

Galton stared at him and released his arm.

“You’re spooking me, son. At least tell me we got the answers we came for.”

Caesar rose to his feet, no longer favoring his left leg. “We did.”

Galton stared at Caesar’s leg and swallowed.

“Doesn’t hurt anymore,” Caesar said. “In fact, I feel like a new man.”

Caesar threw the artifact half that held the Sagittarius symbol to the floor and brought his heel down on it, smashing the brass as if it were clay. Galton frowned as he looked down at the pieces.

Caesar reached down and pulled Galton to his feet in an easy motion. “I’m the artifact now, Lionel. Well, that half anyhow. Let’s head back up and—”

Before he could finish, the ground around them began to quake and rumble, and they were thrown to the floor. The walls shook, and the altar at the center of the room toppled. The two men crawled along the floor, trying to make their way to the exit, but the shaking intensified. The shaking stopped, and stillness returned to the room, but destruction lay all around them. Walls were cracked and pitted, and the floor had buckled. The altar lay smashed before them.

Moncada stood at the back of a military jeep, manning a mounted Browning .50 caliber machine gun. His hulking figure towered over the pedestal mount, and he hunched down to grip the handle to steady himself. The jeep brought up the rear of an eight-vehicle military convoy racing over rough jungle roads toward the temple.

“Más rápido, amigos!” Moncada shouted. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

The lead driver accelerated, whipping around curves at breakneck speeds. Two other drivers, trying to keep up, lost control, and their jeeps slid over the edge of a newly formed canyon and plummeted hundreds of feet to the dust below. The screams of the men inside could be heard over the roar of the convoy.

“Hit the brakes!” Moncada screamed, and the six remaining jeeps skidded to a halt. Moncada climbed out of his jeep, walked to the rim, and looked out at the vast canyon that now revealed the most beautiful piece of architecture he had ever seen. It was awe inspiring. The canyon encircled the fully revealed temple. It would have to be destroyed, of course, despite its breathtaking beauty. That was the price of his getting the artifact.

The survivors lined up next to him, staring openmouthed at the huge depression. It had been only four days since they had left the site when only the top third of the enormous structure was exposed. The camp was gone, along with the research stations and bodies of the dead scientists. Only the huge canyon remained, with the temple still standing, like a beautiful black jewel, at its center.

There was no evidence of anything that could have caused such a cataclysm. They had seen no equipment, heard no noise, felt no earthquakes. A few of the men crossed themselves as they contemplated the mystery.

Moncada barked orders. “Spread out, surround the perimeter, and get me some rope.” He selected a dozen men, and they rappelled down the side of the canyon, avoiding the burning wreckage of the two lost vehicles. Fully armed, they crept toward the base of the temple like cats stalking mice.

“Let’s go!” Caesar shouted and waved Galton toward the broken stairs below the fire symbol. The other three exits had caved in. Galton had his smartphone in hand and was furiously taking snapshots of the writings etched in the walls, using a lens of his sunglasses to cover the camera lens.

“You don’t have to do that, Lionel, I know what it says. ‘Herein lies the crown of kings, which is the key to knowledge. Once discovered, the key to knowledge lies within the king of crowns.’ It’s seared in my mind.”

“Nice,” Galton said as he made for the stairway. “What’s it mean?”

Caesar didn’t know—yet. But he believed the meaning would become clear, as had so much else throughout this adventure.

As the two men crawled up the crumbled stairway, Caesar thought about the negative aspects of the artifact. He knew that in the wrong hands its power could bring about the end of a great civilization, or worse. Yet he knew he’d have to give up the other half of the artifact and deal with the consequences. He also believed he was destined to acquire all of its power, and he was ready to die trying to get it.

As they climbed, they heard the sound of gunfire and ricocheting bullets. Caesar felt his energy fading away and realized that the blue bursts of electricity had ceased. They reached the top of the stairs and emerged into the room above. Caesar was horrified. The temple lay in ruins, and sunlight poured into the once-magnificent structure from all sides.

Gunfire was coming from the south side of the temple. Caesar’s bodyguards, El Capitán, and a few of the men who had come down from the ledge returned fire from behind the toppled dais. Two of the men from the ledge, armed with rifles, ran out from behind the dais and fired a flurry of shots toward the south entrance as they advanced. They took out three enemies each before they were shot dead.

Caesar and Galton crawled behind the dais and took cover next to El Capitán.

“What’s going on?” Caesar asked.

“Earthquake, then something strange,” El Capitán said. “The temple rose up out of the ground, or maybe the ground lowered, I don’t know. It nearly shook us to pieces. The whole temple is exposed. My men came in straight through there.” He pointed at a gaping hole in the north wall.

Caesar and Galton peered through and saw a high ravine where the clearing had been. They were hundreds of feet below the rim. Escape would be impossible.

The gunfire suddenly ceased. They turned toward the south entrance and saw more men rappelling down the side of the crater. Armed men, perhaps twenty or thirty, were approaching the hole in the wall, Moncada at their head.

Moncada approached the ruined temple and stepped inside.

“I could kill him with one shot from here,” El Capitán whispered.

Galton placed a hand on El Capitán’s pistol as he held it. “Do that and those men out there’ll poke so many holes in us your angels’ll be using us as salt shakers.”

“What do you suggest we do?” El Capitán asked.

Galton pulled out a white handkerchief, clipped a ballpoint pen to one of its corners, and used the pen to slowly hoist it over his head. “We surrender, ya’ll,” he called out.

As the defeated group stood up, Caesar looked around and counted. They’d lost six men.

The twelve remaining were ordered to come out from behind the dais. They walked toward Moncada with their hands behind their heads, warily watching the guns that were trained on them. Moncada pressed forward until he was nose to nose with Galton.

“I told you not to come to this temple.”

Galton felt the urge to spit in his ugly face, but he suppressed it and just shrugged.

Moncada scanned the faces of the men that stood before him, then shifted his gaze to the object nestled between Caesar’s belt and vest. He came face to face with Caesar. “Is this what all the killing was for?” he asked, staring grimly at the broken artifact.

Galton gritted his teeth and wondered why Caesar hadn’t hidden the object, hoping his crazy former son-in-law had a plan. Maybe he was creating a diversion.

Caesar met Moncada’s gaze. “How interesting. A murderer speaks of killing as if he had nothing to do with it.”

Moncada didn’t so much as blink. “Well, well. I like this one,” he said to Galton. “I didn’t think he had much of a backbone at the airport.” He set his bloodshot eye on Caesar again. “Looks like you grew a spine—just in time for me to rip it out.”

“I’ll rip out your other eye before you rip out any spines,” Galton snarled.

“Shut up, old man,” Moncada snapped. “I’m talking to this one.”

“Why did you kill those scientists?” Caesar demanded.

“It was necessary,” Moncada said. “The lead researcher stuck her foolish head through what should have been a wall.” He sneered and then spat. “Smelled like burnt toast. The others panicked and tried to leave. Imagine the rumors they would have spread, rumors that would reach the ears of the people funding the excavation. We had to squelch the rumors.”

“So you murdered them.”

“No, my friend. We have just found the stinking foreigners responsible for the deaths of our scientists. And now we will take you into custody. We’ll make sure you get a fair trial. Like the last time you were here, eh, Caesar?”

Moncada’s men laughed.

“As for El Capitán,” Moncada said, looking at the rebel leader, “or should I say, El Traidor. You’ll get what’s coming to you.”

Moncada turned to Caesar. “For someone of such great intelligence, your notes were useless.”

“You knew I’d find a way in, didn’t you?” Caesar said.

“Yes,” Moncada replied. “With our lead scientist dead, we couldn’t figure out which entrance to take. So we allowed you in. Cameras watched your every move. And when you and your four compatriots successfully entered the temple, we came in for the spoils. God, who surely loves us, made an earthquake to seal our victory. Now, if you’ll kindly hand over the artifact, we can be on our way.”

“You’ll have to kill me first,” Galton said as he stepped toward Moncada.

Caesar pulled Galton back and stepped forward.

“Don’t give it to him, Caesar,” Galton said.

“Don’t listen to the old man,” Moncada said. “Hand it over now, willingly, and maybe I’ll let you live.”

“You gonna run the artifact over to your boss for a biscuit, lapdog?” Galton snapped.

“I will have no boss by the time the sun sets. The artifact is mine now.”

Moncada took the handgun he had taken from El Capitán and struck Galton on the head, knocking him senseless. He nodded at Caesar and fixed him with a menacing one-eyed glare.

Caesar slowly removed the remaining half of the artifact from his waistband and held it out. As it changed hands, a bolt of energy leapt from Caesar to Moncada. In that moment, it felt as though the two men had become conjoined twins who had spent an eternity in each other’s memories. Each man understood everything the other understood. Moncada stepped back and shifted the gun from Galton to Caesar. Before he could pull the trigger, Caesar’s hand flew up, palm out, and a burst of air shot toward the gun. The force Caesar had summoned sent the weapon flying through the south gap in the temple wall toward the ravine. He could feel the elements coursing through him now, air and fire together, as though his body was formed of them.

Three of Moncada’s men drew weapons, and Caesar’s bodyguards and El Capitán and his men threw themselves to the ground as firing commenced.

Bullets whizzed past Caesar as he crossed his forearms in front of his chest, his fists clenched. When he extended his arms toward the shooters, a fierce windstorm streamed from his fingertips. Blasts of wind sent Moncada and fifteen men hurtling thirty feet into the air. Thuds resounded as they landed in the distance.

Only Moncada survived the impact. He sat up, his eye patch gone, and stared in disbelief, still clutching the artifact. His damaged eye had been restored, but his left arm was broken. He looked at the exposed bone, amazed that he felt so little pain.

Caesar eyed the remaining mercenaries, those who had been out of range of the windstorm. They were staring at their fallen commander like lost sheep.

Suddenly the air rang with the sound of chopper blades and gunfire. Moncada’s troops tried to flee, but dozens were cut down by heavy fire from the chopper as it flew overhead. It circled around for a second pass and unleashed another barrage of gunfire that took out most of Moncada’s remaining troops.

The helicopter swung around the temple toward the top of the canyon and fired two missiles at the military vehicles parked along the edge. Several jeeps exploded, scattering debris.

Caesar, Galton, and the others ran to the temple entrance. Caesar suddenly grew weak. He stumbled just inside the south entrance of the temple and fell to the ground. He’d been shot when Moncada’s men began firing. A bodyguard bent down and picked him up. Galton snatched a walkie-talkie from the man’s belt and began screaming into it. “Get down here now, Caesar’s been shot!”

Moncada’s remaining men regrouped on the other side of the temple. They moved to the south side and began firing at the chopper and into the temple. One of Caesar’s bodyguards arched backward as a round penetrated his spine. Three of El Capitán’s men fell in the hail of bullets. Their leader fired blind backward shots at the south entrance as he ran toward the dais. His men followed, firing behind them as they ran.

“Break for the north entrance!” Galton screamed.

Just before he passed out, Caesar turned his head in that direction and peered through the opening. The helicopter was hovering low to the ground, just outside the entrance, Galton’s chauffeur, Fiero, in the pilot seat.