“It’s the only conclusion I can come to.” He pressed his hands to the top ledge and put the other foot down to the second step.
“Are you seriously going to take this long to go down the stairs? ‘Cause there’s, like, two hundred of them, and that’s just on this side.”
Sean motioned with his hand. “Go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”
“Not at that speed you won’t.” Tommy snickered at his own joke.
“Go up to the monastery, and find the abbot. Tell him what we’re here for. See if he can help us. I’ll be there in a bit.”
“If by a bit you mean tomorrow, then yeah.” Tommy shook his head and took off at what Sean considered a reckless pace, almost bounding down the stairs.
Sean kept his body as low as he could as he descended the steps one after another. He kept his eyes on the next step and nothing else, desperately trying not to see the vast distance to the bottom. His hands shook violently, mirroring his head’s gyrating movement. As he crept ever closer to the base of the stairs, he picked up his pace ever so slightly, getting into a sloth-like rhythm overlapping one foot and then the other. Halfway down, he began to feel more comfortable and stole a glance over at Tommy who’d already begun ascending the other staircase. What Sean lacked in speed due to fear, Tommy would lack in fitness as he climbed the other steps.
Sean’s pace quickened when he was twenty feet from the bottom, the terror of falling no longer an issue. He sped up until he reached the floor. When his feet landed on solid ground, he took a deep breath. There was still another cliff to the right, but the wall on the left made him feel at least a little safer. He took off at a jog and hurried over to the other staircase. Tommy’s speed had slowed significantly, as Sean knew it would, but he’d reached the top and disappeared over the upper ledge.
When Sean arrived at the base of the next set of stairs, he swallowed hard. The momentary respite of being on safe ground vanished in an instant, and his deeply rooted fear returned.
“Just look at the next step above you,” he said to himself. He repeated the mantra as he put his foot on the first stone ledge then the next.
He made it to the top of the stairs ten minutes later, a journey that should have only taken four. He was proud that he’d been able to conquer the climb, but his hands still trembled even as he reached the upper landing and stepped away. The next obstacle was the bridge. Just when he thought his battle was over, the bridge crossed over a crevasse that dropped several hundred feet down to the jagged rocks below. “This place is a nightmare,” he said again in a low tone.
A young couple walked leisurely across the bridge, stopping midway to lean over the railing. The move made Sean queasy. At least there was something he could hold onto. He shuffled over to the crossing and grabbed the rail nearest the mountain wall then started across. In the case of the bridge, he found that moving as fast as possible was the way to do it, sort of like ripping off a Band-Aid. The couple in the middle smiled at him and seemed as if they might start up a conversation, but Sean was in no mood to talk and kept his eyes focused on the bridge as he made his way across.
With his feet on solid ground again, he bent over and grabbed his knees. He took several deep breaths and started to relax again. His eyes wandered to his surroundings, taking in the extraordinary vistas and the dangerous placement of the monastery. Tommy appeared in a doorway up another shorter set of stairs. He was followed closely by a man in dark-orange robes. His head was shaved clean over a pair of narrow eyes. Lines stretched out from his nose and underneath his eyes, showing his advanced years of age even from fifty feet away.
Tommy waved, motioning for Sean to join them.
A few minutes later, within the temple’s confines, Sean finished telling his story to the abbot. “So you see, that is why we have come to your place of worship,” he said.
He and Tommy sat across from the old abbot and a younger monk who translated Sean’s message. They’d been brought into a small room with cream-colored walls supported by dark wooden beams. Candles burned on shelves and sconces, casting an eerie, flickering yellow light on the four men. The travelers had been offered tea, which they accepted as a show of good faith. Sean took another sip from the bone cup and set it down on the matching dish placed in front of him.
Tommy had already given him a rough idea of what they were there for, but Sean tried to clarify since the abbot was still somewhat uncertain as to their purpose. Once he had heard Sean’s explanation, the abbot’s face took on a grave expression.
He spoke deliberately so that the translator didn’t miss any details.
“We have been entrusted with the protection of this relic for centuries. Before that, our monks guarded it for thousands of years at Borobudur. Not once, in all that time, has it been reported that a visitor requested to see the relic. You are the first.”
Sean and Tommy shot each other a quick glance and then returned their gaze to the old man.
“However, just because you are the first to inquire about its existence here does not entitle you to receive it. Only someone who knows the heart of the one who protected it can receive its power.”
This last bit caused concern for the two Americans.
“What do you mean?” Sean asked.
The translator passed along the question, and the abbot nodded. He stared through Sean and then Tommy.
“This relic is very powerful. In the wrong hands, it could cause much pain throughout the world. You must pass the test if you are to receive it.”
“Test?” Tommy looked worried. “What test?”
When the abbot heard the question, he stood up and motioned for the three to follow him.
The two friends looked at each other questioningly, wondering where the monks were taking them. They shrugged and followed the young interpreter and his master into a narrow hallway. More candles burned atop brass sconces along the walls. The little flames danced in the darkness as the monks passed by.
The corridor went straight for thirty feet, passing by dormitories and prayer rooms. It abruptly shot off to the left, back to the right, and then up one flight of stairs to a dark wooden door. The abbot turned and said something to the interpreter. His voice was almost inaudible. When the young apprentice translated, he too kept his voice low.
“We must not interrupt the evening prayers,” he said. “Be very quiet.”
Sean and Tommy nodded. They’d removed their shoes before entering the monastery, something they assumed the monks would appreciate. Now they clutched their shoes tighter, wary of dropping them.
The door swung open silently, revealing another hallway on the other side. The four stepped in and padded quietly along the ancient wooden floor. The wall to the right had several small windows that looked through into a vast chamber with twenty-foot ceilings. Red tassels hung from the walls every five feet. Circular pillars, painted red, supported the dropped ceilings before they vaulted to the top. The Americans noted the strong smell of incense and located the smoking censer in the front of the room on top of a platform. Surrounding the platform, dozens of men in matching robes chanted in unison. Their bodies swayed back and forth in rhythm as their ghostly prayers echoed through the chamber.
The group pressed on, and soon the corridor took another sharp turn to the left. From what the visitors could tell, they were heading toward the mountain. Sure enough, the walled corridor ended and gave way to another door. It was marked with an emblem that had been burned into its center. The symbol was out of place in such a remote Eastern country. It was the Davidic star of Israel.
The abbot reached into the folds of his robe and removed a key, hanging around his neck on a piece of string. He looped it up over his head and inserted it into the door. The older man said something to the young monk and then turned the key carefully; the old lock clicked. The man put the key back over his head and reverently pushed the door. Unlike the previous one, this door creaked loudly. It clearly hadn’t been used in a long time. The abbot’s apprentice grabbed a candle from the wall and handed it to his master then repeated the action to give each of the visitors their own source of light.