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“Looks like Striker was on the right track,” Maddock said as he and Bones followed the path laid out by the map. “Hopefully he didn’t actually find the treasure.”
“Of course he didn’t,” Bones said. “That’s what you and I are for.” He was limping a little. Maddock wasn’t the only one who had been through the wringer.
With a map to guide them and no fear of running into human traffickers, they moved quickly. Although the directions were easy to follow, many of the passageways they entered were well-hidden. It was easy to see how they had gone largely undiscovered.
The way grew steep, plunged them deep beneath the earth.
“It’s going to be one hell of a climb back out,” Maddock said.
“Maddock,” Bones said seriously as he ducked beneath a low-hanging stalactite, “I’m too tired to deal with your negative take on everything.”
“Fair enough.” Maddock glanced down at the map, then looked around. The caverns down here were pristine. They were likely the first people to pass this way since Striker. And before him? Maybe Juan Iturbe.
He looked around, got his bearings, and shone his light on a meter-wide crack in the wall. “The next chamber is that way. According to Striker’s map, this is the end of the line.”
They slipped through the narrow opening and found themselves in a chamber that was more like an art gallery than a cavern. The stalactites had been sculpted to resemble the tentacles of the kraken. Stalagmites and boulders were shaped like coral, eels, and even a mermaid. It was like being deep beneath the sea. They shone their lights all around, marveled at the sights.
“Somebody must have spent a lifetime on this place,” Bones said. Maddock couldn’t disagree.
They made a quick inspection of the small cavern but found neither treasure nor another way out.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Bones complained. “Tell me this isn’t the end of the line.”
Maddock took out his cell phone and reviewed the photos of Iturbe’s map. He quickly located the chamber in which they stood.
“Look at this! Iturbe’s map doesn’t end here. There should be a passageway leading out.” He looked up. “Should be right about one o’clock.”
“Doesn’t look promising,” Bones said as they moved in that direction.
Sure enough, there was nothing there. Just a blank wall. No stray boulders hiding a passageway, no obvious trapdoors, not even a crack.
“Could the map be wrong?” Bones asked.
“No, there’s no way,” Maddock said, shining his light around. “Can you imagine the time and effort that went into making this place? And why put it way the hell down here unless it’s a place of significance.”
“That was my thinking, too. So, what did Striker miss?”
“The map is two-dimensional, which could mean that the passageway could be, I don’t know, above or below us. But, if that’s the case, how do we get in?”
They looked around. Maddock marveled at the wonders of this very strange place. He ran his hand across a starfish. The texture was perfect.
“I don’t think Iturbe and his men ever tried to find civilization. I think, like you said, they stayed here and made this place their life’s work.”
“All of that work for a cargo of pearls?” Bones said. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
“I know. Which suggests this is more than just a treasure vault.”
Bones folded his arms. “Isn’t that always the way?” He reached up and touched the tip of one of the stone tentacles. “Any bright ideas?”
“This place was built by sailors,” Maddock said. “Men who, above all else, loved the sea.”
“I hope you’re not expecting praise for that brilliant insight,” Bones said. “Considering what we’re surrounded by.”
“That’s what I’m saying. Striker was a prospector at heart. So, what did he overlook down here that a true man of the sea would recognize immediately?”
Bones shrugged. “I recognize everything in here. Doesn’t help.”
“Start over with an open mind. There’s got to be something here. Iturbe went to the trouble of leaving the map. What would be the point if it didn’t lead somewhere?”
Finally, Bones spotted something.
“This thing over here is weird-looking. At first, I thought it was a tentacle wrapped around something, but now that I look at it up close, it’s not quite right.”
Maddock looked at the odd sculpture. It rang a bell. And then he remembered. “That’s because it’s not a tentacle. Those are the entrails of Saint Erasmus. The thing they’re wrapped around is a windlass.”
“Explain,” Bones said.
“Erasmus of Formica, commonly known as Saint Elmo, is the patron saint of sailors and of abdominal pain.”
Bones cocked his head. “How in the hell do you become the saint of upset stomachs?”
“By pissing off the Roman Emperor over and over until he has your guts tied to a winch and cranked out of your body. Which is why this is one of the symbols associated with Saint Erasmus.”
Bones absently rubbed his belly as he reassessed the oddly carved stone. And then he stood stock-still.
“We forgot something.”
“What’s that?” Maddock asked.
“The message included with Iturbe’s map. ‘Walk with the luck of the saints.’ Could that be a clue?”
Maddock instantly knew Bones was on to something. “That would make sense. This is the only sculpture we’ve seen that obviously relates to one of the saints. It’s also the sort of thing a seventeenth century sailor might identify as significant in a way a prospector like Striker wouldn’t.”
He took out his knife, knelt, and prodded at the base of the object. The stone was different, more porous than the other sculptures. He dug in and twisted the knife and a large chunk of stone broke off.
“It’s fake,” Maddock said with a note of triumph in his voice.
Bones took out his own knife and they chipped away at the mortar until they struck metal. Some more work revealed a hexagonal iron rod set in the floor.
“Holy freaking crap,” Bones said. “The sculpture is covering an actual crank.”
“So, even if Striker recognized this one shape as being unusual, he wouldn’t have been able to turn the crank unless he cleared all the mortar away from the base.”
Bones grinned. “What are we waiting for?”
They worked for a few more minutes until they’d cleared the mortar from the base of the crank. Maddock’s heart raced. What were they about to find?
“You found it, you do the honors,” he said.
Bones stood and gripped the windlass in both hands. He paused and looked to Maddock.
“Righty tighty, lefty loosy, you think?”
“It’s got to be one or the other. Just don’t break it.”
“Here goes.” Bones grunted as he put all his strength into the effort. Slowly, the handle began to turn. “Help me out, here.”
Maddock lent his strength and they rotated the crank a full turn.
There came a series of clicks and bangs from somewhere below them as the gears of some unseen machine began to turn for the first time in centuries. The floor vibrated and a low rumbling filled their ears. Dust floated down from up above and Bones eyed the ceiling nervously.
“I hope we didn’t just activate a booby trap.”
“I think we’re good.” Maddock pointed.
A few feet away, a hole opened in the floor. From somewhere below came the sound of running water. Maddock shone his light in to reveal a narrow stone staircase winding down into the darkness.
“What did I tell you?” Bones said. “Finding the treasure is what you and I do.”