“He says this door hasn’t been opened in nearly five hundred years.”
Musty, damp air wafted out through the opening as the four moved forward into the tunnel. The jagged rock looked as if it had been hewn in a hurry. Sean imagined that whoever did it worked quickly to get the relic hidden in case someone had followed it from Indonesia. Water dripped down a strip on the left side, splattering on the rock below. He wasn’t sure where it flowed to, probably an underground river. He shook away the random thoughts and looked ahead. The abbot walked into a large circular room. The light from his candle barely reached the edge of the wall. He stopped in the center where a three-foot-high stone platform stood. On top of it, three golden boxes shimmered in the flickering candlelight.
Sean and Tommy stepped close, standing at the abbot’s side. They gazed in wonder at the three containers.
“What are these?” Sean whispered.
The interpreter didn’t need to ask the abbot. He already knew the answer. “This is your test.” He held out his hand, palm up, as if displaying the three objects. “You must choose the correct box. Only one holds the relic you seek. The other two offer death.”
Tommy frowned. “Death? What do you mean, death?”
Sean stared at the boxes. They were each about two feet long and a foot wide. He figured they were made of wood, probably cedar, and layered in a thin coating of gold. A six-pointed star had been engraved into each one. The three containers also featured a gem inlaid into the removable top. Each precious stone was different: one ruby, one white stone, and one onyx. Sean figured the white to be quartz, but he wasn’t sure. The gems were cut and smoothed into ovals then inserted just above the high priest’s symbol.
The abbot and his apprentice withdrew, stepping back into the recess of the tunnel. They offered no further instruction or assistance.
“How are we supposed to know which one of these is the right one?” Tommy hissed, trying to keep his voice low enough so the abbot wouldn't hear his doubts.
“I’m working on it,” Sean said through clenched teeth. “It has to have something to do with the gems on the tops.”
“I was thinking the same thing, but what’s the difference?”
“One line of thought suggests the red one. The white one and black one are at opposite ends of the spectrum, while the ruby is different than both.”
Tommy nodded. “Right. So the one with the ruby.” He started to reach out, but Sean grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.
“Not so fast.”
Tommy looked at him like a frightened child who’d just been chastised for reaching for a forbidden cookie.
“There are other things to consider, though. Think about it. The white and black stones look like the Urim and the Thummim, the same gems that were said to go with the breastplate. In the Jewish histories, it didn’t say anything about a ruby being used with the Hoshen.”
“Good point. So not the red one?”
Sean shook his head. “Probably not.”
Tommy swallowed hard as he gazed at the two potential boxes. “Both the white and the black were used to get answers from God. Some of the legends suggest that the stones moved, while others say they lit up. But in both cases, the stones reacted most often to direct yes or no questions.”
“And which one was the gem that represented the yes?”
Both sets of eyes drifted to the box on the end with the white stone set in its top.
“The white one,” Tommy said.
“Right.”
They continued to gaze at the gilded container. Doubts lingered in their hearts. If they were wrong, the abbot said that death awaited. Neither man knew what that meant, nor did they want to find out. Tommy twisted his head, risking a peek over his shoulder. The abbot and his apprentice had vanished. The light from their candles was gone, leaving Sean and Tommy alone in the chamber.
“Where did they go?” he asked, turning around to look once more at the box.
“I imagine if we choose the wrong box they will lock us in here,” Sean said. “It’s unlikely there’s something in the other two that would kill us. These things have been here too long.”
“Unless they’re booby trapped.”
“True, but I don’t think so. I’m thinking they’d go a little more in the direction of Poe’s story, ‘The Cask of Amontillado.’”
“Wall us up and let us starve to death in here?”
“Yep.”
Tommy shivered at the thought. “Okay, so we’re sure it’s the box with the white stone?”
Sean nodded. “Has to be.”
He took a step to the side and drew closer to the box. He set his candle down on the rock plinth next to the object. His hands reached out and touched the smooth edges of the top. The seam between the main part of the container and its closure was extremely thin. Whoever had built it was extremely precise with their craftsmanship.
Tommy hovered behind Sean, looking closely over his shoulder.
Sean grasped the top from both sides and started to lift it up. There would be no turning back now.
25
Sean’s fingers remained steady as he pulled up on the lid. He winced slightly as wild thoughts of acid spray shooting out from the box ran through his imagination. When the top came free, nothing escaped the container. Instead, they were greeted by something glittering in the yellow candlelight. Sean let out a long breath and completely removed the lid, setting it aside on the end of the altar.
Inside the box was an artifact that hadn’t been seen in nearly three thousand years. Twelve precious stones were set into the metal breastplate. Golden chains were attached to the end of one side via a matching gold clasp. Two more were connected to the sides and wrapped underneath the piece.
The two Americans blinked rapidly, their eyes not fully believing what they saw.
“It’s beautiful,” Tommy said. “This is one of the holiest holy relics in all of Judaism. Only the high priest of Israel was allowed to wear it. That means only a handful of people ever put this thing on in the history of the world.”
“It’s pretty incredible,” Sean said. “We need to get it out of here if we’re going to save your friend.”
“Right.” Tommy’s face contorted. “Toting this thing down the mountain won’t exactly be inconspicuous.”
“We can stuff it in this bag,” Sean offered.
“That will not be necessary.”
The voice came from the darkness near the entrance. Sean and Tommy spun around, each instantly drawing their weapons and retreating from the light. Though their reactions were fast due to years of experience and training, they were undeniably in a bad situation.
A match flared to life in the tunnel. It moved to the left, touching the wick of a candle. Once more, the candle’s illumination lit up the area around it, casting a pale corona onto the faces of the two monks. It also revealed another face, one that the Americans instantly recognized.
Sharouf Al Nasir.
Sean kept his pistol trained at the man’s head, but the darkness made it difficult to be sure of his aim. If he missed, Sean would hit one of the monks that Sharouf was using as human shields.
“You’re not going to need those weapons,” Sharouf said. “Put them down, and bring me the Hoshen.”
Sean and Tommy simultaneously inched their way behind the stone platform and met in the middle, using the altar and the golden boxes as cover.