Maya paused on the step above him. “You all right?” he asked.
“Just…catching my breath.” She waited a beat, then started climbing again.
The staircase continued upward, stretching several stories above the ground. It made a sharp turn near the top of the canyon, then ended at a wide ledge in front of another cave.
Devon studied the sheer mountains ringing the canyon, the open sky above. The ledge looked like a place of worship—even sacrifice.
He thrust that thought aside.
Maya crossed the ledge and entered the temple. He followed, then came to a stop inside. The cave was shaped like an observatory—circular, about thirty feet in diameter, the walls covered with symbols and astrological signs. A long slit sliced the domed ceiling, exposing a glimpse of the sky. In the center of the room sat a raised platform with a huge stone dial.
Maya rubbed her arms. “Do you feel that…tension in the air?”
“Yeah.” The room vibrated with that same sense of anticipation he’d felt when they’d entered the city’s gate—only stronger, more insistent.
Uneasy, he strode to the platform and climbed the steps. The dial consisted of two stone rings, one inside the other, the largest several feet wide. In the center there was a round, empty spot the size of Maya’s medallion. A bronze fin stuck out from the side.
Maya joined him on the platform and studied the rings. “They have the same symbols as my medallion.”
She was right. “Except they’re in a different order.”
“The sadhu said we had to line them up to match.”
Deven tugged the outer ring to turn it, but it didn’t move. He pulled again, getting his weight behind it, but it still refused to budge.
He bent down and examined the center spot. “There’s some sort of locking mechanism in it. Put your medallion in there, and let’s see what it does.”
Maya tugged off her medallion and removed the chain. Then she set it in the center of the dial, rotating it until it dropped into place. Deven grabbed the outer ring again and pulled.
The stones creaked, started to turn. He kept up the pressure, shifting it until the symbols aligned with the medallion, then stopped.
He wiped his forehead on his sleeve, impressed. “Simple, but effective.” Without the medallion, the dial wouldn’t turn, preventing someone from trying random combinations.
He eyed the hole in the ceiling above. “It must work like a sundial. The moonlight shines through that hole and strikes the dial.”
“And then this metal piece casts a shadow on the vault.”
“Right.” Deven leaped off the platform, strode around the cave and studied the walls. But he couldn’t see any cracks or indentations, nothing that would indicate a vault. “If it’s here, they hid it well.”
Restless now, he strode to the ledge outside the temple and looked at the city below. Dusk lengthened the shadows in the canyon. The sheer rock walls boxed them in. There was no other trail out of the city, no way down from the temple except by those stairs.
And that bugged the hell out of him. Medieval people had enemies. They would never build a city without an escape route. And if there was another way out…What if Singh had found it? What if he’d beaten them here?
The shadows deepened. The sun dipped close to the mountains, lingered a final second, then disappeared. And an ominous feeling swirled in his gut, as if with the light went their final hope.
Maya came up beside him. “What do we do now?”
“Wait for the eclipse.”
And hope that Singh hadn’t trapped them. Because if he had…Devon would be forced to confront him.
And Maya would finally learn the terrible truth he’d spent the last twelve years trying to hide.
Chapter 14
Maya huddled on the ledge outside the temple, staring out at the deepening night. Thousands of stars glittered in the velvet blackness. The full moon loomed above them—huge, luminous—its shadowy eyes stark, its mouth stalled in a desperate scream.
She hugged her knees, shivering in the chilly air. The ache in her head had dulled, but now emotions chugged through her belly—excitement, anticipation, fear. She could hardly believe that in a few short minutes they might find the fabled crown.
Or Singh might appear.
She knew Deven expected trouble. He’d been checking his weapons, pacing across the ledge, scrutinizing the terrain. Anxiety vibrated right out of him and charged the air.
The rumble of unseen helicopters didn’t help.
He strode past her again, and she turned her head to watch. Moonlight glimmered off his midnight hair and dusted the noble line of his nose. And despite the fear, despite the uncertainty of the coming night, she knew one thing—she loved him. She always had. He was everything she’d ever dreamed of in a man; he was smart, courageous, strong. Just one look from his eyes changed the speed of her heartbeat. His nearness ignited her nerves. They’d been good friends, trusted comrades, explosive lovers. She’d never even been tempted by another man.
But he’d been honest with her. He’d made it clear from the start of this journey that he couldn’t have a future with her. And once they found that crown, he would go.
Which meant their time together was nearly up.
A dull ache deadened her chest, the painful pull of longing she’d been trying to suppress. She’d deceived herself, told herself that she wouldn’t mind when he left.
She’d been wrong. She now knew that she would never get over this man.
She hitched out her breath, returned her gaze to the moon. She would survive, of course. She would pick up the pieces and go on, just as she’d done every time life had dealt her a blow.
But she would miss him. And a part of her would never be the same.
Just then, a shadow crept over the edge of the moon, blurring the border. “The eclipse is starting,” Deven’s deep voice rasped in the dark.
“I see it.” She rose, her heart accelerating, her stomach a bundle of nerves. The ancient key lay heavy in her pocket. The medallion rested against her chest. She entered the temple behind Deven, her footsteps thudding on the dirt.
Silver moonlight flooded the cave through the slit in the ceiling. She walked to the platform, glanced up through the opening at the shrieking moon. The darkness continued across its face, stirring the hair on her nape.
Deven climbed up on the platform, then reached down and tugged her up. Her pulse in overdrive now, she pulled the medallion from around her neck and placed it in the center of the dial. Deven turned the massive stone rings, making minor adjustments until the astrological symbols aligned.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Now we watch.”
Her mouth dry, her palms clammy, she scanned the hundreds of mathematical equations and symbols painted on the moonlit walls. What if the dial didn’t work? What if they’d positioned it wrong? What if this was a hoax, some sort of medieval practical joke?
Her gaze gravitated to the moon again. The black shadow kept advancing, gnawing at its face. And she knew deep down that this wasn’t a joke. There was something otherworldly about this eclipse, something powerful. She could see why people once believed it was a portent of evil, a message of doom from the gods.
Suddenly, a vision formed in the temple’s shadows—a flickering bonfire. Priests in white robes chanting. The beating of primitive drums. Ancient people huddling in terror, making sacrifices to the gods…
The vision vanished. Her body trembled. The hair on her nape rose on end. “Did you see that?” she whispered to Deven, shuddering. Even now she felt something filling the room, a presence—like the souls of people long gone.
“I saw it.” His eyes were fierce, his body rippling with tension, like a primitive warrior preparing to fight.
The room dimmed as the moon darkened. Quivering harder now, she shifted her gaze to the sky. The shadow had crawled relentlessly forward, devouring the moon. Excitement mingled with dread in her blood.
“The crescent moon.” She frowned at a niggling memory, but then the dial cast a shadow, a black line slicing the cave.
“There it is.” Deven leaped off the platform and raced along the line to the wall.
But the moon went completely black, thrusting the cave into total darkness. And then just as abruptly, it came back. It was full again, but tinged a deep bloodred.
Maya’s heart stopped. She’d never seen anything like it. Fierce dread battered her throat.
“Come on. Help me look,” Deven called, and she dragged her gaze away. He flicked on his flashlight, shined the beam at the stones where the shadow had been, and she hurried to join him at the wall. She ran her hands along the cool, bumpy surface, tracing painted symbols, feeling for soft spots or cracks.
Nothing.
She knelt, continued searching the wall near the ground, losing hope as the minutes passed. But the vault had to be here. They couldn’t have come all this way and leave without the crown.
“Maybe it’s buried,” she said.
“I’ll dig.” Using the handle of the flashlight as a shovel, Deven scratched the hard-packed dirt at the base of the rock. She unwrapped the ancient key from the goat hide, then used the rounded end to help him loosen the soil.
They’d dug several inches down when a clink rang out.
A thrill ran through her. “There’s something here. Something metallic.” She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice.
“Give me some space.”
She shifted away, and Deven dug faster, breaking up the tightly packed soil. Minutes later, he’d uncovered a metal plate in the ground, about two feet square. He brushed aside the dirt, aimed the flashlight at it, and a keyhole emerged.
Her excitement at a fever pitch, she helped whisk away more soil. Their eyes met, held. Anticipation crackled the air. “Go ahead,” he said.
Her hands trembling, she inserted the key in the lock but couldn’t get it to turn. Nothing happened. She jiggled it and tried again. “It doesn’t work.”
“Let me try. It’s probably clogged with dirt.” He handed her the flashlight and grasped the key. Then he twisted it, worked it back and forth in the lock, took it out and tried again. The key clicked and he pulled up the lid. The tension unbearable, she shone the light inside.
Inside the vault was a large silk bundle. Maya propped the flashlight on the ground, reached in with shaking hands and lifted it out. It was heavier than she’d expected. Her heart pounded so hard she couldn’t breathe.
She set it on the ground beside the flashlight. The crimson silk was embroidered with gold and silver threads, studded with pearls and precious stones. “I’ve seen this type of fabric in museums,” she said. “It’s called zardozi.” It had been used in ancient times to decorate all things royal—clothes, scabbards, tents, even the trappings worn by royal elephants.
Careful not to damage the fragile fabric, she untied the golden cord and carefully peeled back the silk.
The crown.
Her lungs stalled. A dull roar filled her skull. “Oh, my,” she breathed. It was gorgeous, glorious, a solid gold diadem, ornately tooled, inlaid with amber of every hue—yellow, green, black.
Her gaze flew to Deven’s, and she saw the same stunned exhilaration in his eyes. “Pick it up,” he urged.
Almost afraid to touch it, she lifted it from its pillow, marveling at the incredible workmanship, the intricacy of the designs. The sun and moon danced along the edges. Across the center were scenes from the goddess Parvati’s life. Over a dozen golden bells hung from the bottom—charms to ward off hostile spirits. The center pendant held a deep red gem.
The crown was spectacular, ancient. She could feel the unearthly power in it vibrating her hands.
She set it gingerly onto the pillow and simply stared at it, still too dazzled to move.
The fabled crown—the most sacred of the three lost treasures. The Roma people would be thrilled.
She understood instantly what it would mean to them—pride in their heritage, hope for their future. The chance to regain their dignity and respect from the outside world.
Without warning, the cave went black. Only the beam from the flashlight cut through the darkness. She glanced up at the slit in the ceiling, realizing the eclipse had continued. The moon had darkened again.
And then, in the distance, a wolf howled. The long, desolate cry filled the cave, standing her hair on end. She gripped Deven’s arm, consumed with a sense of something supernatural.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
“Yes.” Agitated, feeling an urgency she couldn’t ignore, she bundled the crown in the embroidered silk cloth and rose.
But partway to the door, she stopped. “The medallion.” She handed Deven the crown, darted back to the platform and leaped back up. She lifted the medallion from the dial, then hurried after Deven from the cave.
While he grabbed the basket and set the crown inside, she glanced up at the sky—and froze. The moon was silver again, a glimmering crescent in the inky sky. But now meteors streaked around it, trailing ribbons of blue, pink, red. Smokelike dust shimmered behind.
She looked at it in awe. She’d never seen or heard of anything like it. And suddenly, the legend popped into her mind again. The prophecy.
“Deven.” She couldn’t tear her gaze from the sky. “The legend. Do you remember the ending?” She thought back, began to recite:
“When the full moon bleeds and the lonely dog cries
And the stars trail dust in the night
A leader will rise from the scattered hordes
And the People will regain their might.”
She stopped. The meteors shot through the sky, showering them with a brilliant display of light. She stood thunderstruck, unable to process it all. The crescent moon began to grow.
The crescent moon…
Her heart stumbled hard. An acute feeling of danger swamped her again. “Deven…we need to go. I keep thinking, remembering the abbot’s words…what he said about the danger, that treachery abounds.”
“What?” Deven’s head jerked up. “What did you just say?”
“The abbot, when he called me back. He warned me about the danger.”
Deven stood stock-still, his body tense, his eyes locked on hers. “He used those words? Those exact words? That treachery abounds?”
The shock in his voice made her stomach clench. “Yes. He said, ‘Watch for the crescent moon. Treachery abounds.’ But what—”
“That’s my code phrase, the one I use with Skinner, my Magnum boss.”
“Your boss?” Thrown off balance, she frowned. “But how could the abbot know that? Unless your boss…”
She pressed her hand to her lips. Had Deven’s boss attacked the abbot?
Deven hissed, shoved his hand through his hair. “How could I have missed it? It all makes sense now. The helicopters—that’s how Singh got them, from us. And that wild-goose chase of information. No wonder I couldn’t find out anything.”
“But…” She shook her head, still not understanding. “What are you saying? That your boss is after the crown?”
“He must be. And he must be working with Singh.” Disgust tinged his voice. “They set me up.”
“So you figured it out.” A man stepped from the shadows near the wall. The moonlight glinted off the gun aimed directly at her head.
Her heart froze. Sanjeet Singh.
She’d never actually met the man—only seen him at a distance—but she couldn’t mistake him now. He was muscular and tall, had an arrestingly handsome face and thick black hair spiked with gray. He wore casual slacks, an ordinary shirt—but there was nothing common about this man. He prowled toward her in the moonlight, moving with authority, arrogance, like a man used to wielding absolute power.
And those eyes…He stopped inches away, and the depravity in his eyes made her head light. She’d heard stories about his cruelty for years,
the torture he’d inflicted on women so traumatized that they’d begged Maya to let them die.
Their eyes held. Sheer dread battered her throat. She’d never felt pure evil before, but this man had an aura of malevolence that iced her soul.
And she knew with sudden clarity that he would never let her survive this night.
“So here we are at last,” he said, his cultured voice at odds with his sinister eyes. “The three of us, just as we were destined to be.”
Destined? Maya fought through the haze of panic, struggling to think and make sense of Singh’s words, but her instincts urged her to bolt. She eyed the distance to the steps, the black space yawning off the ledge, the deadly gun trained at her head.
She couldn’t run for it. As soon as she moved, Singh would shoot. But she couldn’t let this despicable man win.
“Leave her out of this,” Deven said, his voice deadly. “This is between you and me—not her.” He stood across the ledge from them, his weapon aimed at Singh, fury pouring off him in waves.
“You’re wrong.” Singh didn’t take his eyes off her. “She’s been involved in this from the start. You must know who she is.”
When Deven didn’t answer, he sighed. “I expected better from you. But you’ll appreciate the irony. She’s the missing Roma princess.”
“Princess?” Maya let out a high-pitched laugh. “Are you crazy? I’m not related to the royal family. I’ve never even met them.” The man was out of his mind.
“It’s true,” he said, not moving the gun from her head. “They’ve kept it a secret. But my spies have infiltrated their inner circle and learned the truth.”
She gaped at him. The man was deluded as well as depraved. “That’s ridiculous. The royals are in California. I don’t have any connection to them. Just because I have the medallion doesn’t mean—”
The Royal Affair Page 16
