“Atiq?” he called, feeling rather foolish as he hung by one arm. There was no answer. Had the old man somehow tricked him? “Hey!” He paused, waiting for an answer, but none was forthcoming. He listened to the sound of water rushing beneath him. No other sound met his ears. “Must be one of those faith things,” he growled. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for a drop into the cold water below. Eyes closed, he let go.
He scarcely had time to feel the sensation of falling before his feet struck solid ground. With a grunt, he dropped to all fours, feeling every jolt and bruise his body had received from his earlier fall down the well.
“You are correct.” From the nearness of his voice, Atiq stood only a few feet away. “I told you that you needed to learn about faith. Follow me.”
Dane stood and followed the faint sounds of the old man’s footsteps into the darkness. He moved at a tentative pace, uncertain what lay before him. The floor beneath him was solid. The rustling of water all around suggested that he might be on some sort of walkway in the middle of the channel.
The faintest glimmer of light appeared in the distance. He could just make out Atiq’s form about twenty feet ahead. He picked up his pace, moving to catch up with the strange old man, who did not acknowledge him, but stared resolutely ahead.
The passageway grew brighter as they walked on. Soon, there was enough light for Dane to confirm that they were, indeed, on a pathway in the middle of the underground river. The tunnel made a sharp bend to the right. Dane turned the corner and gasped.
Stefan peered out through the arched doorway that led into the large central room. He watched with interest as first the old man, then Maddock, disappeared into the tunnel where the river flowed out of the room. Apparently, there were handholds of some sort in the tunnel roof. He smiled. They were leading him directly to whatever it was that this empty stone warren protected.
He stepped into the room, and was disappointed to see that someone had removed the bodies of Peter and Michael, along with their rifles. Stefan had long since emptied and discarded his own weapon. No matter, he still had his knife and the other weapon. He resisted the urge to pat his midriff, just to make certain it was still there.
He hurried toward the tunnel where his quarry had vanished, all the while feeling vulnerable to the snipers that had dogged them throughout this debacle of an operation. Reaching the archway, he paused for a moment to feel for a handhold of some kind. His hand closed around some sort of metal rung, and he smiled again.
He would kill Maddock first and recover the sword. Next, he would wring the old man’s secrets out of him before taking care of him. Finally, when he had learned all that he could, he would blow this pagan abomination back to the hell from which it was conceived.
Dane stared in amazement at the wondrous sight that lay before him. About fifty yards ahead, the tunnel opened into a broad, circular cavern, at least two hundred feet across. The river spilled over the edge and into the depths, but the pathway upon which they trod extended out over the chasm. Where it ended, hanging out over the abyss, was a sight unlike any he had ever beheld.
It was a giant cage, spherical, and about thirty feet across. It appeared to be constructed of the same material as the glowing crystals that illumined the temple and hallways. The thick, finely wrought bars, spaced vertically about a foot apart all the way around, gave it the appearance of being both delicate and sturdy at the same time. A doorway set in the near side stood open, revealing a bright, white object of indeterminate shape inside. Dane could see no sign of bolts or hinges. Rather, it appeared to be one single piece. The entire object shone with the incandescence of a full moon, casting a faint glow around the cavern. Pearlescent light swirled and danced on the water as it tumbled into the darkness below.
“Your answer, Mr. Maddock,” Atiq said.
Dane could not begin to comprehend what he was seeing. Memories crowded in one after another in the span of a heartbeat: the fight in the slave market, diving for the Dourado, digging up the sword, Sowell’s betrayal, and the battle in these very halls. All had led him to this moment, and he had no idea what stood before him. He only knew that it was breathtakingly magnificent. He stared in silence.
“God created many wonderful creatures, nearly all of which are long gone,” Atiq said, as if beginning a lecture. “The greatest of these, though few, were those we call the angels. They were beautiful, powerful beings, and they were God’s favorite. But they were vain creatures, and they lorded their superiority over human beings, taking their pleasure with human women, producing the races of giants, the Anakim.”
“What about the other creatures we saw carved in the sarcophagi?” Dane asked.
“Two of them died out long ago,” Atiq said, “but their legacy lives on in our fables.” He paused, waiting for Dane to catch on. After a moment, he continued. “Little people? Ancient alien visitors?”
“Ah,” Dane said, not certain what to think of this revelation. “And the ape-man? The missing link?”
Atiq chuckled. “Not precisely. All of the beings depicted in the carvings symbolize many beings of a similar nature. But yes, the simian-looking creature generally represents hominids.”
“If all of these creatures lived, why is there no fossil record?” Dane asked.
“I don’t have all the answers,” Atiq said. “These beings were historical before history existed. There were few.” He shrugged. “Perhaps God removed their remains from the earth for some reason known only to Him? But there is one.
“One angel grew in wisdom and power, even a limited power to create. He formed the crystals that illumine the pathways, and he created the sword.” He stared over Dane’s shoulder at the hilt of Goliath’s sword. “Already an arrogant creature, when he learned to create, he was convinced that he was a god in his own right. He tempted the vainest of his race with promises of might and glory, and he led a rebellion against God himself.”
Dane felt cold. He took a step back, his heart racing. The sword seemed to hang heavy on his shoulder. It could not be!
“God crushed their rebellion. The bodies of the traitorous angels were cast into the depths of the earth. Their leader was locked away in a prison wrought from the stone of his own making, to contemplate the error of his ways. Angels take a long time to die.” Atiq turned and dramatically swept his arm out toward the glowing cage and yawning chasm. “Welcome to the bottomless pit.”
Stefan crouched in the shadows, seething at what he heard. This was an even greater heresy than he had been told! He freed his knife from its sheath, and absently tested the edge against his thumb. Anger roiled inside of him. He had intended to slip up behind Maddock and kill him quietly. Now he wanted to hurt the man, to make him pay. Stefan wanted the man to know who was killing him and why. He wanted the man to feel fear. To know the power of the order. With a cry of rage, he leapt forward.
Dane whirled and pivoted to his right as the shape hurtled out of the darkness and directly at him. He saw a glint of steel, and he struck out with his open left palm, turning the blade past his body. Ignoring the pain as the knife sliced into his hand, he drove his right palm into the attacker’s face.