by David Wood
“Not looking good,” Bones said softly. “If we need freaking ground-penetrating radar...”
Just then, Maddock’s attention returned to what the guide was saying.
“The king also selected the site and design of the royal tombs, which he named Trano Masina Fitomiandalana. The name translates to ‘Seven Sacred Houses Arranged in Order.’ Also...”
Maddock heard nothing after that. He, Bones, and Isla turned to one another and said, “Houses of the Seven!”
The guide led them down to the tombs, which had been restored after the fire, and Maddock’s hope waned. If there had been a clue there, what if it had been lost, or discovered already?
“What part of this space is original?” he asked the guide.
“The walls, the floor, some of the tombs, and the remains of course.” He smiled and winked at Isla, who returned his grin but without much enthusiasm.
“Focus on that,” Maddock whispered. They spread out, inspecting the tombs that had been set in a straight line. Maddock kept an eye out for any symbols that might be related to King Solomon, but nothing leaped out at him.
A scripture was engraved in stone at the foot of every tomb. Centuries of foot traffic had worn them down until they were scarcely visible. Maddock took the time to inspect each one. Though they were at least partially illegible, he could make out words in French here and there; enough that he was able to identify the passage from the Bible. When he reached the last tomb, he gave a start.
“...breath and you shall live,” he translated. The same scripture from Haggard’s grave, the passage that had been the key to admission to the sanctum in the royal village.
The tour group was now filing out of the tombs. Isla cast a quizzical look in his direction. With a jerk of his head, he indicated that she and Bones should keep moving. He’d hang back and see if this clue bore fruit.
When everyone had gone, he knelt to inspect the inscription. It was carved into a stone disc. Checking to make sure no one was about, he took out his knife and worked around the edges of the disc until it came free. He lifted it out and brushed aside the silt and sand to reveal images carved into the bedrock.
A stylized sun sank over the rough-hewn shapes of a lion, a bird, and an elephant. The elephant’s trunk wrapped around its body. The bird’s head was thrown back, its beak open wide, as if devouring the sun. Below them, etched so faintly he almost didn’t notice it, was the Seal of Solomon.
“What does this mean?” he whispered. He took a moment to snap a few photos of the images, and then covered it back over with sand before replacing the stone.
As he hurried out of the tombs to catch up with his friends, a torrent of thoughts surged through his mind. What significance could the animals have? Who had carved the symbol there? Had it been done during the construction of the palace, or was it much older? Could the tombs have been built for the purpose of concealing it from the unworthy, with the scripture carved there as a guidepost for those in the know?
“Don’t overthink it, Maddock,” he said to himself. “Just follow the clues.”
Chapter 33
Tsingy de Bemaraha, Madagascar
The Tsingy de Bemaraha National park was located in northwestern Madagascar just north of the famed Avenue of the Baobabs. Its unique geological makeup had led to the formation of tsingys—karstic plateaus in which erosion had formed forests of limestone needles.
Maddock could not believe his eyes as they wound among them. He’d never seen anything quite like them. He gazed up at the tall, spiked columns of limestone that rose high above the sparse tree line.
“This gives new meaning to ‘petrified forest,’” Bones observed.
“It’s magnificent,” Isla agreed.
“If King Solomon’s Mines are hidden somewhere in here, it’s no wonder they’ve never been discovered. This place is a warren of caverns and crevasses. A man could get lost in here and never find his way out,” Maddock said.
Isla smirked. “Only because he’d be too stubborn to ask directions.”
“What does tsingy mean, anyway?” Bones asked.
“It’s a Malagasy word that translates to ‘where one cannot walk barefoot.’” Isla’s eyes flitted toward the ground as she spoke. “And I can see why.”
“Looks like we’re almost there,” Bones said, checking his GPS. “I hope this is the place, or else we’ve come a long-ass way for nothing.” He cast a meaningful glance at Isla, who glared back.
“It’s the right place. I’m certain of it.”
The clue hidden at the Rova of Antananarivo, the images of the lion, bird, and elephant, had confounded them at first. And then Isla had found a tourist’s photograph of three unusual-looking rock formations in the middle of Tsingy de Bemaraha. There was no denying the shapes bore a strong resemblance to those in the carving. What was more, they were oriented in such a way that the setting sun would sink behind them.
What had sealed it for Maddock, though, was what lay in between the Rova and the rock formations. Drawing a straight line from one to the other, the line started at the Rova, the center of the Sacred Twelve, the House of the Seven. It passed over the Ikopa River, and then through the Analavory Geysers, carbon dioxide driven, cold water geysers that could definitely qualify as “bad water.”
It had been at this point where Maddock’s pitch had been derailed by Bones, who couldn’t stop laughing and talking about “Anal Lovery Guy-zers.” Things had only gotten worse when Isla corrected his spelling, prompting a barrage of “Anal Avery” jokes and a vow to give Maddock’s sister a new nickname when they returned home.
After much too long a delay, Maddock had resumed his analysis. “Haggard places the Breasts of Sheba forty leagues from the river. That’s approximately two hundred-twenty kilometers. Which would place them about here.” He clicked on the satellite map and zoomed in on two very round hills, each almost the twin of the other. “I think these could qualify as the Breasts of Sheba.” The others had found his argument persuasive, which brought them to this spot, on the southern edge of the national park.
The sun was high overhead by the time they located the rock formations. Maddock mopped sweat from his brow, took a swig of water, and passed it along to Isla, who sipped sparingly. She offered it to Bones, but he declined.
“Pop a stone in your mouth,” he said, opening his mouth so they could see a round pebble. “Keeps you from getting thirsty.”
“But it doesn’t keep you from dehydrating,” Maddock said. “Take a drink. I won’t have you slowing us down on the climb.”
“Last one up buys dinner,” Bones said. He took a swallow from the canteen and handed it back to Maddock. “You don’t have to play if you don’t want to,” he said to Isla.
“I’ve done my share of climbing,” she said. “And I don’t have to drag three hundred pounds of fat arse all the way up there.”
“Three hundred? Chick, don’t get a job at the fair guessing people’s weight.”
Isla laughed. “Which one do we climb first? The lion symbolizes God as well as kings.”
“But if that’s a Jesus fish, we’ll have wasted a lot of effort.” Bones pointed up at the odd formation.
“I think it’s the fish, but not for the reason you mention,” Maddock said. “Remember the last part of the clue?”
“Speak the words and enter?” Isla said.
“No, the other part.”
Bones ran a hand through his long hair, frowning. “You shall return as the wise king did.”
Maddock nodded. “The wise king is obviously Solomon. I was reading through some of Isla’s research. There’s a story about how he once lost his ring and was forced to wander the world as a commoner until he got it back again.”
Isla clapped herself on the forehead. “He found the ring inside the mouth of a fish.”
“What do you say?” Maddock asked.
“It’s worth a try,” Bones said. “Let’s go.”
It was a strenuous climb, but not partic
ularly challenging for any of the three. In the end, Bones reached the top a few seconds ahead of Maddock, who slowed himself down by constantly checking on Isla. As it turned out, the young woman didn’t need help, and almost finished ahead of Maddock. Both men were impressed by her skill and Bones even offered to let her off the hook for dinner, an offer she flatly declined.
“A bet is a bet. But I choose the restaurant.”
“Holy crap,” Bones muttered, “now we’re in for it. Don’t Scots eat sheep scrotums and cat crap?”
“No, that’s the Irish. Now, where do we go from here?”
Maddock pointed down the steep slope that led into the shadowy mouth of the fish.
“That way.”
“It is them!” Ronald raised his pistol and took aim at the three figures standing atop the rock formation high above them.
Nomi smacked his hand down. “Don’t waste your shot. You’d never hit any of them at this distance without a rifle. All you would accomplish would be to alert them to our presence. We’ve worked too hard for that to happen.”
Ronald gave her a hard look but did not argue.
They’d followed Maddock’s trail, first to the synagogue and then to the so-called royal village. The fools who called themselves “kings and scribes” had not denied that Maddock and Bonebrake had been there, along with their new female companion, but the men swore that they had told the outsiders nothing.
Cleo had killed two of them before they finally broke down and told all that they knew.
Maddock and Bonebrake had descended into an underground sanctuary where they supposedly communed with spirits. Nomi had considered inspecting the place, but the kings and scribes had been a bit too eager to oblige. Probably there were booby traps down there. Instead, she’d focused on extracting information.
Upon emerging from the chamber, Bonebrake had asked about the “Sacred Twelve,” “bad water,” and the Breasts of Sheba. Afterward, one of the scribes had shadowed them and overheard them talking about paying a visit to the Rova of Antananarivo. Hot on their heels, Nomi had nearly caught up with them. Plenty of people at the Rova remembered the big Native American showing a great deal of interest in the tombs.
Ronald had finally made himself useful by identifying a fragment, in French, of the same scripture found on H. Rider Haggard’s grave, and finding the clue hidden beneath it. Learning about this rock formation had been a stroke of good luck, and even then they were not certain they were in the right place. It was what an American football fan would call a “Hail Mary.” But Maddock’s presence here seemed to confirm that they’d made the correct call.
“What do you want to do?” Cleo asked.
“We wait a few minutes and then we go up after them. If the mine is up there, Maddock will have opened it. I am certain of it.”
Chapter 34
Tsingy de Bemaraha, Madagascar
The light grew dim as they descended into the mouth of the fish. A series of weathered bumps that might have been steps a few thousand years ago provided footholds as they worked their way down into shadow until at last they stood on level ground. Maddock looked around. He hadn’t expected a flashing sign pointing them to King Solomon’s Mines, but he thought they’d encounter more than a blank wall.
“This has to be it, doesn’t it?” Isla asked.
“I suppose,” he said doubtfully. “Those steps had to lead somewhere.” He slipped Solomon’s ring onto his finger and held it out. Nothing happened.
“You look like the Green Lantern,” Bones said.
“I thought you weren’t into superhero movies.”
“I’m not, but that movie sucks so bad I like to drink beer and mock it.”
“Sounds fun, actually,” Isla said. She stood, hands on hips, gazing at the blank wall. “Let me see the ring.”
Maddock handed it to her and she slid it onto the fourth finger of her left hand. “You said you tapped three times?”
Maddock nodded.
Isla approached the wall, reached up, and rapped three times on the stone with the signet of the ring.
“Behold, I will cause breath to enter into you and ye shall live.” She leaned forward and blew on the rock.
Maddock knew it had worked even before the door opened. Blue lights deep within the stone began to glow, forming the shape of Solomon’s Seal. The outline of a door appeared, and then the entire section seemed to dissolve, leaving an arched opening wide enough to drive a truck through.
“Where did the stone go?” Isla breathed.
“Maybe it was never there,” Maddock said. “Maybe it was an illusion that the ring cleared away.”
“Felt pretty solid to me,” she said. “Anyway, who wants to go first?” She turned and looked at Bones. “You usually like to forge ahead.”
“Sure,” Bones said, “send the brown dude ahead to spring the booby traps while the white people hang back.”
“I didn’t mean...” Isla began.
“He’s kidding,” Maddock said as Bones shouldered past them and into the waiting darkness. “He complains, but he lives for this stuff.”
“I live for babes,” Bones called over his shoulder. “Treasure hunting is just a hobby.”
The entrance to the mine was a rough tunnel, the floor worn smooth, descending into the earth in a tight spiral. Several times they had to grab the sides of the passageway to keep from sliding down.
“How did they ever haul treasure up this slope?” Bones asked. “Slave labor, I guess.”
“I’m sure they used slaves, but I doubt they brought it up this way. There’s probably another way out. This is just the path laid out for future seekers.”
“They didn’t exactly roll out the red carpet for us,” Bones said, ducking beneath a low spot in the ceiling. “Just a bunch of dirty, slippery rocks.”
“Look in front of you.” Isla aimed her flashlight straight down the tunnel.
Up ahead, the passageway leveled out and split into two. Each was guarded by a statue. The figure on the left was an ancient warrior sharpening a curved sword with a whetstone. The figure on the right was also a soldier, but this one held a pair of crossed swords.
“Which way do we go?” Isla asked.
Maddock considered the choices. He and Bones had seen things like this before. Safe passage through required a correct interpretation of subtle clues.
There was only one significant difference between the two figures that he could see—one held a whetstone in his left hand while the other held a sword. He tried to think of any connection with Solomon. And then it hit him.
“It’s the passageway on the right.”
“How can you be certain?” Isla eyed the statues doubtfully as if they might spring to life at any moment.
“One of Solomon’s most famous proverbs. ‘As iron sharpens iron so a friend sharpens a friend.’”
“That’s flimsy, Maddock,” Bones said.
“Got a better idea?”
The big Cherokee considered, then shook his head. “Nope, but I’m not going first this time.”
“Fair enough.” Keeping an eye on the statue, Maddock walked past it and into the tunnel. When he’d gone twenty paces he turned and called for the others to follow.
The passageway doubled back on itself and they soon came to another divide. There were no statues here. Only a carving of a horse above the left-hand passage, and a herd of stallions above the right.
“I got this one,” Bones said immediately.
Isla frowned. “You’re joking.”
“The three sins of Solomon,” he said.
Maddock scratched his chin. “Never heard of them.”
“I grew up in the Bible Belt, where everybody’s obsessed with sin and hell. Believe me, I heard all about it.”
“Are you planning on filling us in?” Isla asked.
“The Bible says a king should not multiply horses, wives, or gold. Solomon did all three.”
“So, the one horse, then?” She looked over at the passage
on the left.
“I guess it’s my turn to go first.” Grinning, Bones passed beneath the horse carving. “Unfortunately for you two, I made it. Come on.”
The next divide followed the same theme, with a statue of a single woman on one side, and a group of scantily clad figures on the other.
“I don’t understand,” Isla said, as they reached another, this one with a single coin engraved on one side and a pile of gold on the other. “Solomon was quite the sinner. He enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh, amassed women and material wealth. Why would he create this memorial to his wrongs?”
“Maybe he repented,” Maddock said. “Wanted whoever followed him to be better.”
“Perhaps.” They chose the proper tunnel, rounded a corner, and stopped.
Isla’s eyes were wide as saucers.
“I don’t believe it.”
Nomi paused in front of the pair of statues. They were quite similar, save for the fact that one held two swords while the other held a sword and a whetstone. Otherwise, neither passageway was marked.
“Which way?” Cleo asked.
“I don’t know.” She scanned the ground to see if Maddock and the others had left any tracks. Nothing but solid stone.
Ronald let out an impatient grunt. “I’ll take one; you take the other.” He gave Cleo a shove toward the passageway on the right while he entered the one on the left.
“Ronald...” she began. Before she could continue, the ceiling above him collapsed.
Ronald staggered back, blood streaming from a gash in his forehead. “What in the hell?” he groaned.
“Booby trap,” she said. “We must proceed with caution.”
“Brilliant deduction,” he grunted.
Nomi ignored him. She took time to bandage his wound before they proceeded.
Hand resting on her pistol, she shone her flashlight back and forth, suddenly alert for more dangers than those posed by their quarry.
“It’s magnificent,” Isla gasped.
Maddock could not disagree. They stood on a wide ledge. A deep chasm lay before them, the opposite wall filled with mine shafts like a honeycomb. Everywhere they shone their lights, veins of gold sparkled beneath the beams.
