"Ill–omened words," muttered Mattai, shivering a little, "words that only a woman would utter; but so be it."
As he spoke I thought that I heard a faint groan break from the man upon the couch. I glanced anxiously at Zibalbay, to find that I must have been mistaken, or, at least, that it had not proceeded from his lips, for he lay there rigid and senseless as a corpse.
"The vote is taken," I said sadly. "What next, Mattai?"
"Follow me," he answered, "and I will show you a secret path from this chamber to the Sanctuary beneath. Nay, you need not fear to leave him, for if his life still burns within him, it is fast asleep. But stay, where is the talisman? That will be necessary to us."
"I have one half," I answered, "the other is about Zibalbay's neck."
"Find it," he said, sternly, to the Lady Maya. "Nay, you must!"
Chapter XIX
The Sacrilege
Now Maya bent over the form of her father and took the talisman from his neck.
"I feel like one who robs the dead," she said.
"Remember that it is to save the living, and be comforted," answered Mattai. "Come, let us be going, for the night draws on."
"Take a lamp, each of you," he said presently, when we had reached the further end of the great hall, where he unlocked the copper gates with a key from the bunch that hung at his girdle. We passed though, and, turning, he almost closed the gate, but not quite.
"Why do you leave the gates ajar?" I asked.
"Because there are none to follow us," he answered, "and who knows what may happen. Should we be forced to fly the Sanctuary, open doors are easier to pass than those that are shut."
"Who or what could force us to fly the Sanctuary?" I asked.
Mattai shrugged his shoulders and went on without answering. Now we passed down many stairs, along passages, and through secret doors, each of which Mattai left open behind us, till at length we came to a blank wall of marble. On this wall Mattai felt with his thumb, till he found a spot that, being pressed, slid back, revealing a keyhole into which he inserted a small silver key. Then again he pressed upon the marble, and a panel moved that might have been two feet wide by six in height, and we saw that light streamed through the opening. Beckoning to us he walked through the gap in the wall, and one by one we followed him into the Sanctuary of the Nameless god, and stood on the further side of the wall, huddled together and clasping each other's hands, for the place was awesome, and its utter silence and solemnity filled us with fear.
The first thing that caught our eyes, as was natural, for it was built into the wall opposite to us, and through it streamed the light that filled the chamber, was the most wonderful and mystic effigy in the City of the Heart. That effigy was a colossal mask of singular and fearful beauty, fashioned from polished jade, and similar in design to those which are to be found in the ruins of Palenque and other deserted Indian cities, whereof no man knows the age. This huge green mask was placed above the narrow door that gave entrance to the Sanctuary, and had been carved to represent the countenance of a being that, although its features were human, resembled neither man nor woman in its unearthly dignity and its stamp of cruel calm. The thick lips were curved with a contemptuous smile, and between them gleamed teeth made of white enamel; the nose was aquiline, with widespread nostrils that seemed to inhale the incense of worship; and the forehead, in whose centre appeared the impress of a woman's hand soaked in some scarlet dye, was broad, low, and retreating. Beneath the solemn and contracted brows were jewelled eyes. Through these eyes, and, indeed, from the entire surface of the mask, streamed light, making the face visible as though it were limned in phosphorus, for the jade was transparent as the thinnest alabaster, and behind it burned two great lamps that were named after the Sun and Moon.
Such was the effigy of the Nameless spirit that we now beheld for the first time, who had face but no form; the spirit, Mouth of the Heart, to whom every lesser god was subject, Utterer of the thoughts of the Heart of Heaven, Lord of power, Dweller in the darkness behind the Sun, Searcher of the secrets of death. Without pity was this god of theirs, and without wrath, who, clothed in eternal calm, so these people fabled, rested in a home of darkness, watching the shadow of events celestial and terrestrial in his mirror of the moon, and telling of them to the Heart which was his soul. The seal of the woman's blood–stained hand was set upon his brow because woman is a symbol of life renewed, the hand is the sign of purpose and the strength to do it, and by blood and anguish must every purpose be accomplished. But the Nameless one executed no purpose—that was the work of lesser gods. In the beginning the Heart thought and the Mouth blew with his breath, giving life to the earth, and causing it to roll forward among the spheres, and now the Eyes watched, ever smiling, while it and those upon it work out our doom, till at length its primal force grows faint and fails when, so said the priests, Heart and Mouth and Ears will think and speak and search, and at their command a new world shall arise from the corpse of the old, and a new life from the lives of those who dwelt upon it.
Therefore it was, though now faith waned among them with their waning energies, that the people, knowing no better creed, worshipped the threefold Fate without a name, whom they held to be master of gods and men. Therefore, also, long generations since, in this spot which we came to violate—to them the most holy on the earth—they set up effigies of a Heart, a Mouth, and Eyes, as symbols of his attributes.
The roof of the Sanctuary, which was of no great size, was vault–shaped, in imitation of the arching sky, and in it appeared a golden sun, a silver crescent moon, and the stars of heaven. Its walls were lined throughout with polished blocks of the beautiful stone known as Mexican onyx, fretted over to the height of a man with a border of hieroglyphics and effigies of the lesser gods in attitudes of adoration, all of them cast in gold and set flush with the face of the wall. The furniture was very simple, consisting only of stools cut from rich woods heavily gilded in quaint designs, and a small table whereon lay sheets of paper made of bark, together with brushes of reed fibre and pots of pigment, such as were used in the picture–writing of this people. Lastly, at that end by which we had entered the chamber, stood an altar of black marble written around with letters shaped in gold, and upon this altar lay something covered with a silken cloth.
For a minute or more we remained silent, contemplating these wonders; then, with a gesture of impatience, Mattai spoke in a whisper, saying:
"Let that be done which we have come to do, for now the sacrilege is committed and it is too late for doubts."
Speaking thus, he stepped to the altar and lifted the silken cloth that lay over the object which was upon it, revealing the image of a human heart fashioned in bloodstone and veined with arteries of gold. In the centre of this heart appeared a small and shallow hole that had been hollowed in its substance.
"This is the tradition," said Mattai, still speaking in a whisper, "that when the two halves of a certain talisman are placed in this hollow, the symbol will open and reveal that which has been set within it since it was fashioned by Cucumatz thousands of years ago, and there is this in favour of the truth of the tale that golden hinges appear upon the sides of the symbol. Now one–half of the talisman has rested here for many generations, till Zibalbay took it with him indeed, when he went out to seek for the other half, and yet the symbol has never opened; still, I am sure that it will open when the whole talisman is set in its place. In this matter, however, there is something more to fear than the vengeance of the gods, for, as I can read well—it is written in those letters that encircle the altar—an ancient tradition tells us that if the symbol be stirred from the place where it has lain for so many ages, the flood–gate will roll back and the waters of the lake will pour in upon the city, destroying it and its inhabitants."