The rustle of cottonwood leaves in the sparse breeze put him to mind of a rattlesnake lying in wait. How could such an open, empty space seem so sinister? He had no time for such thoughts. He needed to hurry.
He hadn’t believed it when he found it on the map: three hills, almost perfectly round, like the lobes of a clover, and a butte where the stem would be. And the place was perfectly positioned! This had to be it.
He crested the closest hill and gazed down into the valley. It was beautiful, as so much of this land was, but didn’t look like much. Lots of scrub, yucca, juniper, and oxeye sunflowers. A flash of movement caught his eye and he dropped to a knee, though there was nowhere to hide up here. He relaxed as he realized it was a lone pronghorn deer wandering past.
He trotted down the hill and began picking his way through the tangle of flora. As he walked, he saw the remains of low walls, piles of stone, and a few overgrown holes that likely had been kivas. That was encouraging.
At the center of the valley, the ground dropped off in a circle forty feet across. His heart leapt. This once had been a massive ceremonial kiva. The roof had long since collapsed, but hopefully…
Choosing a spot where the remains of the roof had piled against the edge, forming a ladder of sorts, he clambered down into the ancient center of worship and moved to the center, careful not to turn an ankle on the loose rock. He squatted down and started clearing away the debris when the ground suddenly seemed to churn and something brown and black burst forth from the hole he had created. Scorpions!
He snatched his hand away and stumbled backward, landing hard on his backside. Seven or eight of the angry creatures scurried out across the rocks and vanished into the cracks and crevasses among the loose piles of stone. They were huge! Each one was at least five inches in length. He was no expert, but he thought they were called desert hairy scorpions. They ought to be called desert harrowing scorpions after that surprise.
He got to his feet, breathing a deep sigh, brushed himself off, and even more cautiously returned to the hole he had created. He really didn’t want to get stung, but he had to do this. He would regret it if he didn’t.
Slowly, one rock at a time, he cleared a hole about a yard in width. He bit his lip when he saw only hard, dry earth underneath. But he couldn’t be wrong. It had to be here. If it wasn’t in the center, he’d have to go back for the metal detector and inspect the whole place, and who knew how long that would take? He pulled out his pocketknife and scraped at the hard-packed earth. The blade caught on something. He continued to scratch the surface, revealing something round. This was it! Ten minutes of digging and clearing rewarded him with precisely what he had been looking for. A clay seal bearing the sigil of Fray Marcos de Niza!
Not wanting to waste time working the seal loose, he picked up a heavy stone, raised it above his head, and brought it crashing down onto the seal. The ancient clay shattered, falling into the dark hole that had been the sipapu — the ceremonial hole in the center of the kiva. He reached into the sipapu and his hands closed on a metal box. He had found it!
The pitted, dirt road bounced their rental, jostling them as they drove.
“Ow! My coffee,” Jade sputtered, dabbing at her pants with a napkin. “Cheap gas station lids. When we get back to civilization, the first thing I’m going to do is find a Starbucks.”
“Sorry,” Dane said. “I don’t know how you can drink that stuff in this heat.” The arid southwest climate was not as oppressive as the humidity of the Caribbean, but the feeling of perpetual dehydration was wearying. They came to a fence line with a gate blocking the way. “Are we in the right place?” he asked, bringing the vehicle to a stop. “This looks like a ranch or something.”
“It says here that the road crosses private property,” Jade said, consulting the directions she had printed off the web. “You don’t need permission. Just close the gate behind you. I got it.” She slipped out the door and strode into the hot midday sun.
Dane watched as she walked to the gate and swung it open. He loved the way the sun played off her glossy black hair and lithe, athletic figure. Best of all, she was smart. Bones might like them dumb, but not him.
“Sometime today would be nice,” Jade called, waving him on. Grinning, he stepped on the gas and pulled through the open gate. Jade secured it behind them and hopped into the cab. “It is seriously hot out there.” She picked up his water bottle and uncapped it.
“Hey, what about your coffee?”
“Are you crazy? It’s too hot for coffee. Besides, caffeine dehydrates you.” She rolled her eyes at him as she took a drink.
Dane shook his head and grinned. There was no point in trying to win.
They arrived at the site a short while later. There was no parking lot. The dirt road simply faded into flat, open ground, ringed by post and wire fences. A ranch lay off to the right, and a brown sign with white lettering directed them through an empty horse corral to the main gate on the other side.
Mesa Verde lay in the distance, clearly visible in the clean, clear air. Dane looked out at the fabled Anasazi settlement, and wondered what it was about that place that seemed to tug at him.
“Jade, have you checked any of the shield symbols against Mesa Verde structures? I mean, why wouldn’t it be one the Seven Cities? Seems like an obvious choice to me.” They arrived at a small gate flanked by a brochure box and a dented, green garbage can on the left and a faded brown National Park Sign. He gave the sign a cursory glance, and helped himself to a brochure before opening the door and motioning her through.
“I have done some checking,” Jade said. “The problem is that it’s such a large settlement, and the images on Fray Marcos’ shield are so small. It could be any little corner or section of a cliff dwelling. As to why it wouldn’t be Mesa Verde, I suppose because it’s too obvious. I’m still working on it, hoping to find a likely location.”
Dane followed her through the gate. He felt a little strange securing the gate behind them in this desolate place, but he supposed it was there for a reason.
“Have you checked out the solstice angle?”
Jade looked back over her shoulder at him, crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. “Yes, I’ve checked. There aren’t any structures that are specifically designated as solstice markers. In such a big place, there might be some structures that fit the bill, but…” She shrugged.
“Needle in a haystack,” Dane said. The thought didn’t discourage him. In fact, the challenge made him even more determined to solve the riddle. Men who were easily discouraged didn’t make good marine archaeologists. The countless hours going back-and-forth on sonar sweeps saw to that. “So, where is this place?”
“Right here.” Jade pointed to a series of overgrown mounds ahead of them. “Not what you expected, I take it?”
“Hardly,” Dane said. The site was surprisingly large, but there seemed to be nothing still standing, except a single wall running along one side. “All of these mounds… is this it?”
“This is it,” Jade said. “Really, Maddock, don’t you read your own research? The largest one is Upper House.” She indicated a mound in the center of the complex, then handed him a computer printout. “Here’s a sketch drawn by William Holmes, the man who initially discovered the site. Of course, much of it is speculation. The site was already in ruins when he found it.”
“Oh,” Dane said, scratching his head. “I stopped reading at the solstice part. Okay Boss, where do you want to start?”