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Solomon Key

Page 17

by David Wood


  “Welcome.” Rakoto was certain they could hear the fear in his voice. “How may I help you?”

  “We need information.” She ran a hand through her close-cropped hair.

  Rakoto waited, heart in his throat.

  “Have you had any visitors today?”

  “I have,” he said in a hoarse grunt. He cleared his throat, forced a measure of confidence into his tone. “Two sets of visitors in one day. More than I usually receive in a month.”

  “Dane Maddock.” It was not a question.

  Rakoto saw no point in lying to these people. In fact, he suspected it would be in his best interest to cooperate fully. He had no stake in this foolish legend quest.

  “American with blond hair and blue eyes? Traveling with a big Native American and a Scottish girl?”

  The woman frowned slightly, then nodded. “Tell me everything.”

  Rakoto recounted his conversation of earlier in the day. The woman listened, nodding impatiently. She interrupted him only once.

  “He had a ring?” she asked, her voice sharp like the crack of a whip. “Describe it.”

  He described the ring, omitting the way he felt when he looked at it. He had a feeling these people had no time for such nonsense.

  The woman turned and looked at her companions, who flashed twin smiles, predatory like lions on the hunt.

  Rakoto’s heart raced. Clearly this ring was important to them. But was it important enough to silence him? He couldn’t believe the turn of events in his life that had led him to even contemplate such a thing. He was a simple man. He wanted no part of dangerous people.

  “Do you know where they went?”

  “Yes. At least, I know where I told them to go.” He told her about the royal village of Vatumasina and of the legends that connected it with Hebrew tradition. She probably didn’t need to know all of that, but he felt the need to keep talking, to forestall the moment when they decided what to do about him.

  When he finished, the woman stared at him for ten heart-stopping seconds.

  “Anything else? Anything at all you forgot to tell me?”

  Rakoto considered. There was nothing else, but he wanted to keep talking, make himself useful, to prolong with might be the last moments of his life. But to tell her more might suggest he had held something back. He looked around for a weapon, knowing there was none. And even if there was, what could a man of peace do against three armed assailants who looked as if they knew what they were about? He shook his head.

  “I have told you everything,” he rasped, his throat a desert. He breathed a sigh of relief as the woman turned toward the door. “Blessings be upon you.”

  One of the men reached for his pistol. Rakoto took a step back.

  “No,” the woman said. “The killing could be used to track us.” She turned to Rakoto. “If anyone else comes, you have had no unusual visitors. That includes Maddock.”

  “I understand,” Rakoto breathed.

  He stood there, frozen in place, until long after the three had gone. Finally, he summoned the strength to walk to the door and steal a glance outside. No sign of them. He closed the door, locked it behind him, and hurried home. He hoped he never heard another word about Solomon’s Mines for the rest of his life.

  Chapter 31

  Vatumasina, Madagascar

  “What the hell is going on?” Bones stared up into the darkness at the spot where they’d just been shut inside the chamber. “How about I climb back up there?”

  “Hold off on that for now,” Maddock said. “I’m not sure they’re trying to trap us here. Besides, they’ve got our weapons.”

  “What makes you think they’re not up to something?”

  “I don’t know. A feeling, I guess.” He reached into his pocket for his Maglite, then froze. “Don’t turn on your light,” he said to Bones.

  Bones didn’t argue. His friend could usually recognize the tone in Maddock’s voice that said, trust me.

  The floor had begun to sparkle. A faint cloud of silvery blue specks led back into the darkness.

  “Maybe they wanted us to follow the path.”

  “I wish we’d gotten a look at the space around us first. No telling what we’re walking into.”

  “I think we need to stick to the path. Why else would they black out the light above us?” He had a feeling that, if they turned on their lights, the path might vanish and not return anytime soon.

  “In that case, you lead the way, bro.”

  They followed the sparkling path, careful to keep to the center in case Maddock was correct that sticking to the path was essential. In the darkness, it almost felt as if they were standing still. Finally they rounded a corner and a brighter glow illuminated their surroundings.

  The sparkling path on which they walked led into a small cave. A figure sat facing them. Maddock tensed, but relaxed when he saw it was a statue of a robed man seated cross-legged, as if meditating. On the ground in front of him, Solomon’s Seal shone inside a blue circle of light.

  “Uh, Maddock?” Bones said. “Is that a flashlight in your pocket or do you think that statue is really hot?”

  “What?” Maddock looked down to see that the Maglite in his pocket had somehow turned on. But it wasn’t his flashlight.

  “The ring,” he said. “It’s glowing.”

  He took Solomon’s Ring and held it out in his upturned palms. The seal shone with dancing blue light, the twin of the symbol carved into the floor.

  “This is odd,” Maddock said.

  “Do you think this is the entrance to the mine?” Bones asked, a touch of doubt in his voice.

  “Doubtful. This isn’t mining country.”

  “The ring is supposed to be the key to the mine. Why don’t you try and open the door just in case?”

  Maddock wasn’t sure what to do. He slipped the ring onto his finger. A chill passed over him, raising goosebumps on his flesh. A sense of a strange presence filled the air around him, as if someone else were there.

  Feeling foolish, he made a fist, held out his hand, and said, “Open.”

  Nothing happened.

  “Try, ‘open sesame,’” Bones offered.

  “I don’t think that’s the trick.” Maddock let his hand fall to the side, but he didn’t remove the ring. He still couldn’t escape that feeling that they weren’t alone.

  “You know what this reminds me of?” Bones said. “A séance.” He pointed to the symbol on the floor. “You’ve got what looks like a pentagram. You’ve got the dude sitting there waiting to talk to the spirit world...”

  Maddock nodded. “I think you might be onto something.”

  “Well, I am a freaking genius, as you well know.”

  Maddock laughed. “Let’s join our friend on the floor. Don’t touch the circle.”

  “Dude, you hook up with one ghost hunter and suddenly you’re an expert?”

  “Just a hunch. But hey, if you want to cross the circle, be my guest.”

  Bones looked doubtfully at the seal on the floor. “Nah, I’m good.”

  They took up spots on the floor outside the circle. Maddock rested his hand on his lap and looked at the statue. “I guess we can at least adopt a spirit of welcoming, like we did at the séance in Williamsburg.”

  A silence settled over them as they waited, anticipating. Nothing changed. He racked his brain, trying to remember what Kendra and her ghost hunter friends had done to connect with the spirit world. One of the men had rung a bell three times. He had no bell to ring. The only thing he had on him at the moment that was made of metal was his Maglite.

  And the ring!

  He took out his flashlight and tapped it against the ring three times. On the third tap, light flared from the ring. A bright blue beam shot out from the ring and struck the statue in the chest.

  A shroud of flickering blue light surrounded the statue. It swirled and pulsed, gradually forming into the ghost of a man. Maddock and Bones stared at the strange apparition as it looked from one of th
em to the other.

  And then it spoke a single word.

  “Ask.”

  Maddock could only think of one question.

  “How do we find King Solomon’s Mines?”

  Maddock gazed at the spirit thing, amazed that this was even happening. What was this thing? An actual ghost? Something the ring had conjured?

  The lips moved.

  “From the center of the Sacred Twelve, within the Houses of the Seven, across the river, through the bad water, between the breasts of Sheba, you shall return as the wise king did. Speak the words and ye shall enter.”

  “What words?” Bones asked.

  But the spirit was already flickering like a television set losing its signal.

  And then it was gone.

  “Dropped connection,” Bones said. “Need a new cell phone tower out here.”

  Maddock nodded grimly. “Those were directions to Solomon’s Mines, for certain,” he said. “Haggard mentions the Breasts of Sheba and bad water.”

  “Is what he gave us enough, though? You’ve got to figure people have been looking for Sheba’s boobs for a while now.”

  “The starting point has got to be key. Figure out what the Sacred Twelve is and go from there.”

  “If you say so. I guess now we get to find out if those dudes are planning on letting us out or if we need to use the back door.”

  Bones stood, knuckled his back, and headed back the way they had come. “I’ve got to admit, I expected fancier digs for Solomon’s ghostly gatekeeper or whatever he is.” Bones looked around as he walked. “I guess we’ve gotten spoiled.”

  “Bones! Stay on the path!” Maddock shouted.

  Too late. Bones had strayed a bit too far to his left. His booted foot came down outside the specks of blue light. With a loud crack of shattering stone and a shout of surprise, he fell.

  Maddock reached out and caught Bones by the back of his jacket as the big man struggled to regain his balance. He hauled Bones back into the center of the pathway.

  “What the hell?”

  “The floor gave way,” Maddock said. “I think it must be a false floor on either side of the path. No telling what you’d be falling into or onto.”

  “Nice of them to warn us.” Bones flashed an angry look at the ceiling.

  “Probably a way of weeding out the unworthy or something like that,” Maddock said. “Let’s get out of here. And don’t step off the path again.”

  “Don’t worry. For the first time in my life I’m going to walk the straight and narrow.”

  They climbed back up and Bones roughly shoved the cover aside. The kings and scribes stood there waiting for them. If they were offended by his rough treatment of the seal, they did not say so.

  “Thanks for telling us about the floor,” Bones said. “Good thing I didn’t tear my jeans.”

  “You found what you were looking for, I assume?” Princio said.

  “We learned something,” Maddock said. “I don’t suppose you have anything to add?”

  “None of us knows the secrets. It is believed that only one of a few sacred relics can turn the key, if you will.”

  “Thank you for showing us,” Maddock said, disappointed that they hadn’t learned more. Surely, whoever or whatever had laid this path before them had known what they were doing and provided adequate information. They’d have to hope for the best.

  “Any of you know what the Sacred Twelve are?” Bones asked. “And how do we get to the middle of them?”

  The men all sprang back as if Bones were a viper about to strike.

  “You must not speak of what you hear in the sanctum.” Princio raised his hands as if to ward off their words.

  “Really? Who made that rule?”

  “It is older than memory.”

  “Maybe you remembered it wrong. We’ve got the ring, so the way I see it, that puts us in charge.” The men were inching away, but Bones continued on. “We need to find the Sacred Twelve, the bad water, and if any of you have ever poked your face into Sheba’s cleavage, it would be cool if you could draw us a map.” He said the last to their backs as they hurried away.

  “Nice, Bones,” Maddock said.

  “They were pissing me off,” Bones said. “We show up with Solomon’s Ring and they won’t tell us jack.”

  “I guess we’re on our own again. Let’s see if they’ll give us our weapons back.”

  That proved to be no problem. The kings and scribes were more than eager for the two men to be on their way. They had lost all semblance of royal demeanor, anxiously shoving the weapons into their hands and ushering them out the door, where Isla waited.

  “Well?” Her green eyes blazed. Clearly she hadn’t been as all right with being left behind as she had pretended.

  “We spoke to a ghost,” Maddock said.

  “Don’t wind me up, Maddock. I’m not in the mood.”

  “I’m not kidding.” He quickly recounted what had transpired inside, omitting the bit where Bones almost fell to his death.

  “The Sacred Twelve,” she said, taking out her phone and performing a quick search. “Sacred Twelve...” she mumbled. “Here’s something. The Twelve Sacred Hills of Imerima.”

  “Never heard of them,” Bones said.

  “These hills are sacred to the Marina people of Madagascar. Located in the central highlands, the sacred hills are sites of many ancient capitals and the tombs of important historical figures. Many leaders of renown were also born in these hills. According to legend, King Andrianjaka declared these hills sacred. He had twelve wives, and kept one at each sacred hill.”

  “That’s the way to do it,” Bones said.

  Isla rolled her eyes and kept reading. “There are, in fact, more than twelve hills that currently claim sacred status, but there are twelve that are generally agreed upon.”

  “So, we draw a bunch of lines and find what’s in the middle?” Bones suggested.

  “It’s worth a try,” Maddock said. “But how about we go somewhere less conspicuous before we continue the discussion?”

  They found an out of the way spot, sat down, and began consulting maps of the Twelve Sacred Hills.

  “I don’t get it,” Bones said. “These sacred hills aren’t a secret. Why wouldn’t someone have found the clue by now?”

  “If the ring was needed in order to receive the spirit’s message, then it’s possible no one knows the significance of the hills,” Maddock said.

  He scanned a map he had called up on his phone. “This would be easier with a paper map, but maybe if we were to draw lines between the various hills and see if there’s a spot they all meet?”

  He saved a screen capture of the map, opened it in a new app, and began drawing lines.

  “Anything?” Bones asked.

  “No joy. The lines don’t all meet in the same spot.”

  Bones glanced down at the map Maddock had been drawing on. “You know, if a few of those hills were in slightly different spots, you could make Solomon’s Seal.”

  Maddock’s heart began to race. “Bones, I’d say you’re a genius, but you only make these brilliant deductions when you aren’t trying.”

  “How’s that brilliant? The hills are in the wrong places.”

  “Isla said there’s some dispute as to which of the hills are the true, original Sacred Twelve.”

  “I see what you’re getting at. Isla, are there any alternatives that fit the bill?”

  “Already on it,” Isla said. “Let’s start by marking the hills that are considered certainties, then we’ll play with the others.”

  They set to work, trying out alternatives, marking the spots on the map, and lining them up. Finally, just as Bones predicted, they had marked out twelve hills that formed the points of Solomon’s Seal: the six points of the star and the six jewels.

  “We did it!” Isla said. She gave Maddock’s hand a squeeze. He didn’t respond. There was still a distance there that hadn’t yet been bridged.

  “Hey, how about a lit
tle credit, here?” Bones asked.

  “Fine. You’re very smart,” she said. “The question is, how are we going to identify the exact center? That could be important.”

  “Try taking the longitude and latitude of the northernmost and southernmost points,” Maddock said.

  “And split the difference between the two points of latitude,” Isla said, catching on immediately. “Let me see.” She performed the necessary calculations, then entered the new coordinates. “Here goes nothing.”

  The result came up immediately.

  Maddock grinned. “Bingo.”

  Chapter 32

  The Rova of Antananarivo, Madagascar

  The Rova of Antananarivo was a royal palace complex that served as the home of the rulers of the Kingdom of Imerina in the 17th and 18th centuries, as well as of the rulers of the Kingdom of Madagascar in the 19th century. Located in the central highland city of Antananarivo, it stood atop the highest point on Analamanga, formerly the highest of Antananarivo's many hills, in the exact spot their calculations had identified. Over time, many of the structures were rebuilt or expanded, and the complex grew until 1995 when it burned. Since then, many of the tombs and main buildings had been restored.

  “You are now standing at an altitude of 4,760 feet,” the tour guide said. “This hill is considered the birthplace of Antananarivo. The name means ‘The City of a Thousand,’ so-called for the thousand soldiers stationed here by King Andrianjaka in 1610.”

  As the guide went on, pointing out the 360-degree view of the city below, the patches of green that marked rice fields, and notable structures like the palace of the prime minister, Maddock scanned the top of the hill, looking for anything promising. He assumed that any place or clue related to the mine would predate the construction of the Rova. They’d searched for accounts of caves, passageways, even underground bodies of water beneath the Rova, but had found nothing. It seemed this was their best option.

  The guide led them into the palace of the queen. Here, only the walls had survived the fire, but a new roof had been added on. As the guide discussed the history and architecture, Maddock and Bones looked around for clues, but nothing leaped out at them.

 

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