“If we can clear a large enough hole for me to fit through without bringing the whole thing down, I’ll drop in there and see what I can find,” Dane said, sliding back from the hole and climbing to his feet.
“I’m going too,” Jade said, standing and brushing the dirt and bits of rock from the front of her clothing. “I’m not letting you have all of the fun. This is much too cool to miss.”
“One of us has got to stay up here with the rope in case something goes wrong,” Dane said. “If we’re both down there and the roof comes down…” He did not need to finish the sentence.
“In that case,” Jade said, “I should be the one to go down there. I’m lighter, so there’s less chance of me bringing something crashing down. And if there is a problem, you’ll have a much easier time pulling me up than the other way around.”
Dane wanted to argue, but her logic was impeccable. Besides, he had seen her in action, and she was far from helpless. Still he did not like it.
“I see your point,” he said. “I just think I should be the one to go down there. We don’t know what we’re going to find.”
“And why should you be the one to take the risk?” she asked. Her voice held a note of challenge. She folded her hands across her chest. “And you had better not say it’s because I’m a woman.”
Actually, that was exactly what Dane had been thinking. He knew it was irrational, but it was the way he had been raised. He also knew Jade would not find it an acceptable reason.
“Suit yourself,” he said. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Thanks, Galahad,” she said, smiling. She put a hand on his cheek in a gesture that was somehow both condescending and affectionate at the same time. “I promise I’ll be careful.”
They began clearing way the rubble, until there was enough space for her to wriggle through. They secured a rope to a nearby boulder and doubled it around the base of one of the larger scrub brush for added strength. Dane took hold of it and held tight while Jade squirmed backward through the hole and slid down into the darkness.
The oppressive darkness seemed to press down on Jade. She shone her light on the ceiling above her. The mass of earth and stone seemed to strain against the roots that bound it, seeking to pour down upon her. It seemed more threatening than the well in which she had dove. Somehow, the water had felt like a safeguard. Here, it was painfully obvious that nothing would protect her should gravity finally win this centuries-long battle.
“You’re wasting time, Jade,” she chided herself. She let the light play across the floor and then around the walls, searching for a clue. Maddock had better not have brought her on a wild goose chase. She continued to search, occasionally brushing dirt off of a likely-looking stone, hoping to find something, but to no avail.
She paused, dropping to a knee and looking around. What might she be forgetting? Solstices were important. What was the connection between solstices and kivas? The axes of kivas were usually built on solstice lines, which meant the solstice sun would shine on…
She turned her light toward the heel stone that hid the tunnel through which the shaman would enter the kiva. Could it be?
She first inspected the heel stone, but found nothing. Now for the tunnel. The Anasazi had been a small people compared to modern-day humans. The tunnel was going to be a squeeze. Holding her flashlight in one hand and her knife in the other, she squeezed into the opening and scooted forward. Inch by inch she wormed her way back into the darkness. If I get stuck, there’s no way Maddock will hear me call for him.
She finally reached the end of the tunnel. Above her, where the shaman had once climbed down into the tunnel, was another hole filled with a precariously loose clump of stone and debris. The wall in front of her would have been in direct alignment with the sun, if not actually illuminated by it, so she started there. She started scraping away at the rocks in front of her. Nothing on the first one. Nor the second. Maybe…
A dull, dragging sound like a burlap sack being dragged across a rough floor filled the hole and she looked up in time to see the ceiling cave in on her.
Dane checked his watch. It had only been three minutes, though it seemed longer. No word yet from Jade. He strained to listen, but could hear nothing. After a couple more minutes he called down.
“Everything okay down there?” He hated not being down there with her. “Jade?”
No reply.
“Jade, what’s going on down there?” What had happened to her? It wasn’t so far to the bottom that she would not be able to hear him. “I’m coming in after you if you don’t answer me.” He suddenly had a vision of the rope giving way during his descent, leaving them both trapped at the bottom. But what choice did he have?
“Hold your horses, Buddy!” Jade called back. “I had to… I’ll explain when I get up there.” Another long silence, then “Go ahead and pull the rope up.”
“You want me to pull you up?” he asked. “Are you hurt?”
“No, Maddock. Just pull up the rope.” Her voice had the quality of a wife wearied of her obtuse husband. He remembered Melissa speaking to him in that tone many times, usually involving bright-colored laundry and the wrong temperature water. Duly chastised, he started hauling.
Whatever was on the end of the rope was light and came up easily. He hauled it out of the hole: a metal box like the one they had found at Chaco Canyon.
“You did it!” he called. Quickly untying the knots that held the box in place, he dropped the rope back into the hole so she could climb out.
Jade was covered in dirt, her face grimy, but her eyes were positively aglow. She immediately set to untying the rope.
“The interior of the kiva was still intact, just as we thought,” she explained. “There was a tunnel. Shamans would use it to make a dramatic entrance while the room was smoky and the worshipers frenzied. It made them look like they were appearing out of nowhere.” She finished coiling the rope and headed back toward their vehicle, still lecturing. “I followed it to the end. The box was sealed up in a recess behind a rock like the one you described from Chaco. I had to scrub away the dirt to find the right stone, and managed to bring a chunk of the ceiling down on me. It scared me more than anything, but I finally found a rock that had the symbol carved in it.”
“Glad you’re okay,” Dane said, looking her over just to make certain. “I wonder how many researchers have been in that room, never dreaming that if they just did a little scrubbing they’d find something amazing,” Dane said, holding the plain, metal box as if it were a priceless treasure.
“Lucky for us, this site doesn’t seem to have gotten much attention,” she said. “Let’s get out of here before someone shows up. I can’t wait to see what’s inside this box.”
Chapter 12
And you’re sure he said “Dominion?” Amanda Shores turned back to the desktop computer in her office at the Deseret Bugle. The desk was cluttered with notes, a framed picture of what looked like Amanda and some friends in college, and a coffee-stained paperback fantasy novel. A framed graduation certificate from Colorado State University hung above the desk next to a small white board.
No boyfriend picture is a good thing, Bones thought.
“Yep,” he said, picking up the picture to get a closer look. She had been cute in college, but was definitely better-looking now. “The Dominion. Orley said it like some movie voice-over, like I should know what he was talking about. Ever heard of it?”