After they entered, he locked the gate behind them. “No reason to advertise we’re here,” he explained. “Maybe the Set people slept in.”
“Or maybe they’ll reach enlightenment while they’re here, and they won’t want to destroy the world anymore,” M joked. But he didn’t laugh.
They stepped inside the temple, and M felt her backpack shift. “The pieces came apart again. Just like we thought.”
He nodded, the relief in his expression obvious.
They began their first clockwise circuit through the temple. “We were right, it’s going to be impossible to search all these carvings.” Ash ran his hand lightly over the image of a couple entwined in a passionate embrace—which they were punished for a few carvings later. The theme of this level seemed to be punishment of the wicked.
“All we can do is keep our eyes open for anything that makes us think of one of the glyphs. The god one won’t be useful, not with the number of Buddhas, but there’s still speech. Maybe road or sun has some other meaning we haven’t figured out,” she said.
They continued their circuits around the temple. “We’re through the part about punishment for stealing and killing and the hardships of basic daily life,” M commented.
“Samsara,” Ash said. “You can use the big words.”
“This one—“She nodded toward a carving of a six-tusked elephant. “I’m pretty sure it’s an image of a dream Queen Maya had. Monks told her it meant her son would become a Buddha.” They walked a little farther. “And this has to be baby Buddha—Siddartha. The stories say he walked seven steps as soon as he was born, and each place he stepped, a lotus flower bloomed.” She touched one of the carved blossoms.
“Are they all stories to you?” Ash asked. “Just stories?”
“I…” M hesitated. She’d always thought of myths and legends, even the ones from modern religions, as a way to understand a culture, a people. But then Ash had to go and turn water into gel using magic that came from a god. Her worldview had been upended. “I don’t know anymore,” she admitted. “So many myths from various cultures have the same elements. I used to think that was a reason not to believe any of them. But maybe it means they’re all representations of the truth in different ways. All gods are one god, or something like that. The Set pieces react the same way to all the sacred spaces, no matter which religion the space is dedicated to.”
“True.” Ash looked troubled. He’d seen some things the past few days that had probably upended his view of the world too, M realized. He’d been worshiping Horus since he was a teenager. Now he had to consider that maybe Horus was only one of many gods who deserved worship, or maybe that all the gods of all the sacred places they’d visited were only one god.
M shoved the thought away. Now was not the time to be philosophical. She had a puzzle to solve. What were the glyphs trying to tell her? She took in as many details of each carving as she could without stopping to study any particular one. There wasn’t time. The longer they stayed here, the more likely they’d be caught.
They passed scene after scene from Buddha’s life as he journeyed toward enlightenment. Once they reached the moment of his enlightenment, they entered a gallery filled with Buddha statues, hundreds of them, with still more images carved on the walls. M froze, overwhelmed. “It would take years to search this place thoroughly.”
“Which is why we’re not going to try. We’re going to keep walking,” Ash said. He gave her a gentle push that got her going again, not that she was reluctant. The corridors on the lower levels of the temple had a claustrophobic effect.
When they neared the entrance to an open terrace, they slowed to a creep, then stopped, scanning the area for any sign of the Set followers. Nothing. Maybe they’d been wrong. Maybe the cult of Set wouldn’t be here.
Gingerly, M stepped out into the fresh air. She saw how the structure of the temple mirrored the path to enlightenment—coming outside made her feel suddenly free. Tilting her head back, she allowed herself to take in one long, deep breath before she studied her surroundings.
“These are the Buddhas Sarip told us about,” Ash said. “The ninety-two with the five different hand positions.”
“Ninety-two,” M repeated. She wandered over to the nearest stupa. It was shaped like a bell—they all were—the kind with long handles that bell-ringers used. The handle was solid, but the curved part of the bell was latticed. She placed her hands on the cool stones with reverence, briefly thinking about how ancient they were, how long ago the temple was built, eventually leaning forward to look at the Buddha inside. “This is one of the headless ones,” she told Ash.
“I guess we could check all the stupas and see how many have heads. That might narrow things down. The speech glyph makes it seem like we’re looking for a god with a mouth,” Ash suggested.
“The looting was recent, from what Sarip told us,” M reminded him. “When the Set pieces were moved and the signpost was left, most of the Buddhas probably had heads.”
“Right.” Ash jammed his hands in his pockets as he looked around the terrace. “Nice view at least.”
The sun had appeared, the mist dissipating. Looking out, M saw green stretching out everywhere, the green rice paddies, the lush green vegetation of the jungle. Smoke drifted from one of the four volcanoes that ringed the temple. “Maybe we should—”
Her mouth snapped shut. All she could do was stare. The sun’s position must have shifted minutely, because now the beams of light looked like they were coming straight out of the volcano directly ahead. They hit one of the stupas, bathing it in a golden light so beautiful it was almost hard to look at.
“What?” Ash asked. When she didn’t answer, he followed her gaze. “I think we’ve found our Buddha.”
She nodded. “Sun meant more than walking clockwise to follow the sun’s path. It meant this.” M ran, racing toward the stupa. What if there was something they needed to do right now, while the sun blessed the Buddha?
But when she reached it there was nothing obvious.
“Speak. That’s the last glyph. Maybe there’s a sound we need to make.” She looked around, hoping to see something, anything, that would be useful. But the stupa was empty except for the Buddha. Ash came up behind her. “Do you think it could be a song? A specific note that resonates?”
“That’s not what speak would mean to a priest of Horus,” Ash said slowly. He moved closer to the stupa, pressing his face against one of the holes in the stone lattice. M could see the muscles in his body tightening, as if he were gathering his strength. Then he spoke, his voice low, but firm and commanding.
The Buddha began to tremble, then with the sound of stone grinding on stone, opened its mouth and began to speak. The voice was inhuman, but M thought the language was Magahi. She’d spent some time in India with Dad and Mike, studying Magahi folk songs.
“I can’t translate it!” M cried over the thundering voice of the Buddha.
“Me either!” Ash yelled back.
“Can you tell it to speak in another language?”
“All I can do is command the statue to speak. It’s one of the powers of Horus,” Ash replied.
M pulled out her cell. “I’ll record it. We can get it translated later.” But as she held her phone out toward the Buddha, she saw scratches on its stone tongue.
Not scratches. Carvings. Glyphs!
Her heart skipped a beat. The signpost!
She took dozens of pictures as the mouth opened and closed. She was still shooting when Ash grabbed her arm, fingers digging into her skin. She jerked her head toward the terrace entrance.
Liza and Bob stood there with a group of people—more Set followers. There had to be at least ten of them. Liza shouted M’s name, and the sound sent a sudden fury charging through her, slamming through her heart, searing the blood in her veins. This woman had been her jailer, had made her think her father was dead. She’d threatened to hurt him. M’s hand went for her bo staff, the desire to take Liza down, to make her fe
el the pain M had been feeling all these months almost overwhelming.
But she couldn’t fight them all. Ash yanked her toward the edge of the terrace farthest from the entrance. As they ran, he chanted the command to speak again and again, and the Buddhas they passed responded one after another, adding their rumbling voices to the first. The headless Buddhas shook as if the tremendous desire to speak coursed through their entire bodies.
“He’s using his foul magic,” someone cried behind them. M shot a glance over her shoulder to see that the young Set acolyte who had been in Kerala was leading the group now. “Stop him!”
Ash’s steps faltered, as if the man’s voice had been a physical blow. Using so much power is draining him, M realized. Ash kept repeating the command, but she could feel his fingers trembling on her arm, his grip loosening. It was up to her to get them out of here.
Ash spoke the command again, and although his voice was weak, new Buddhas joined in. The movement off all the stone bodies became so intense the ground began to tremble. A few of the Set devotees screamed. She heard Bob urge them forward.
M wrapped her arm around Ash’s waist, taking as much of his weight as she could. When they reached one of the stupas close to the edge, she twisted around and pulled the climbing gear out of his backpack, letting it fall to the shaking stones. Quickly, she looped the rope four times around one of the spokes of the latticework, leaving two long lengths free. It was fast—no carabiners or webbing—and it would hold.
She allowed herself a glance up to check on the Set people. Close. So close. She had the equipment she needed, belay loop, locking biner, everything, but there wasn’t time. Years ago Mike had taught her the Dülfersitz rappel, where all you used was a rope. It was a good technique for an emergency.
This was an emergency. She let Ash slump down on the shaking terrace floor. Struggling to keep her balance, she straddled the two lengths of rope attached to the stupa. She pulled them around her hip, over her left shoulder, then around her neck and down her right arm. She’d use her right hand as a brake.
“Ash, you have to get up.” She used her left hand to pull him to his feet and helped him wrap his arms around her. “Don’t let go!” she yelled, stepping off the edge of the terrace just as Bob reached for her.
The rope ripped against her hand as she brought them to a stop one level down. She shoved Ash onto the staircase, and scrambled out of the makeshift harness. She hoped the lengths of rope dangling down to the level below might confuse the Set followers about where she and Ash had gone. Quickly, she grabbed Ash and half dragged him into the chamber with the hundreds of Buddhas. She squeezed behind the biggest one she could see, pulling Ash down next to her.
A fine layer of dust rained down from the stone roof, but the shaking had ceased. Maybe Ash was too far from the Buddhas now. “You okay?” she whispered.
He nodded without opening his eyes, but she could feel his body trembling and hear his ragged breath. He’d used everything he had to make the statues speak. There was no way he could make it out of here now, not until he’d rested. Even if he could, there was that stretch of open space between the temple and the jungle. They’d be way too vulnerable.
M shifted and wrapped one arm around his shoulders so he could rest more comfortably against her. All they could do for now was hope Liza and Bob didn’t find them.
CHAPTER 18
M’s legs cramped from keeping them tightly curled beneath her in the space between the Buddha statue and the wall. Her back ached from being pressed against the stones of the niche behind her for so long. All she could think about was the need to move.
But Ash wasn’t ready. He lay slumped against her shoulder still, his breathing uneven and raspy. He’d been wiped out after he’d saved her from the crocodiles, but it had been nothing like this.
Liza, Bob, and the others had run through the room almost as soon as she’d gotten herself and Ash hidden. The rope she’d left dangling must have fooled them into believing she’d climbed down three or four levels, because she heard them hurry past without even bothering to search the area. She’d been afraid they would come back up, but it had been hours with no sign of them.
M wiggled her toes, hoping the small movement would alleviate the almost unbearable urge to scramble to her feet and stretch. Soon the temple would be open and tourists would start to explore. When they did, it would be time to leave, if Ash was able. The people would give them a little protection if the Set acolytes were outside. They wouldn’t grab her in front of witnesses—would they?
No point in worrying about it. They couldn’t hide here forever. She had to translate the signpost glyphs, which meant getting someplace where her cell—currently trapped in a pocket she couldn’t reach—had a signal. M knew the glyphs were Sanskrit, but that was about it. She needed Mike’s help.
M’s muscles cramped even more. She was going to go nuts if she had to stay still for much longer. She turned her focus to Ash’s breathing, which seemed to be getting steadier. If she could will some of her strength into him, she would. That had been some trick, making statues speak. Part of her wondered if she’d dreamed it. She kept thinking she’d adjusted to the fact that there was actual magic or miracles or whatever they should be called in the world. But she hadn’t. She wasn’t sure if she ever would.
A man’s voice broke the silence, coming closer. He was talking about the carvings on the wall. Another voice followed with a question. M relaxed. A guided tour was in progress, so there were other people in the temple now.
Ash gave a little moan as the voices grew louder, accompanied by the sound of footfalls coming toward them on the stone floor. M pressed her fingers lightly to his lips. “Shhh,” she whispered into his ear. His eyelids fluttered open. He was looking up at her, but she could see he didn’t recognize her.
“It’s me, Ash. It’s Memphis,” she told him. He blinked, but his eyes remained glazed. “Ash, it’s M.” In that moment she watched him come back to himself, the memory of what had happened on the terrace hitting him. His body tightened, his breath seeming to catch in his chest, as his eyes burned into hers, full of everything he knew about her.
M slowly slid her fingers away from his mouth. The guide pointed out a few of the statues, then ushered his group up the stairs to the terrace where Ash had made the statues talk. He had made the statues talk.
“How long?” Ash asked, voice thick, when the gallery was silent again.
“Almost three hours,” M said. “I think Bob and Liza assumed we made it out. I thought we could just blend with a group of people leaving.”
Ash nodded. He struggled to get to his feet. “Wait,” M cautioned. “You just woke up, or came to, I’m not sure which. You were really out of it, Ash. Give yourself a minute. The group will be up on the terrace for a while anyway.”
“I’m…” He coughed, clearing his throat. “I’m okay.”
“At least let me get up first, in case you need help.” She twisted around and put one hand on the statue and one on the wall, levering herself to her feet. She wriggled out from behind the Buddha, ignoring the pins and needles stabbing into her legs, then reached one hand down to Ash. She didn’t bother pointing out he was unsteady on his feet, and had, in fact, needed the assist.
“Have you ever done that before? Made a statue speak?” she asked, shaking out one leg, then the other.
Ash leaned against the wall. “As part of my training. The Opening of the Mouth is one of the hardest talents, and the one that requires me to be the most open to Horus. I was only able to do it after weeks of purification and prayer. I made a small statue of Isis open its lips. There was a small sound, more of a sigh, and then it was over.”
“But what you did up there…”
“Maybe my need, our need, made it easier for me to allow Horus in. I honestly don’t know,” Ash said.
M gave him a once-over. He looked better. The grayish tint his skin had taken on was disappearing. “Has using the power ever knocked you out for t
his long?”
“It’s been bad before, but this might have been the worst,” he admitted. “The more power I have to channel, the more depleted I am after.”
“But you’re okay?”
“I’m okay.”
M was doubtful. She wouldn’t mind standing there for a bit, just looking at him and seeing him look at her. That moment when he’d stared right through her had been terrifying, as if he’d vacated his body entirely. But she couldn’t gape at him like some whack job, so she raised her arms and stretched. “We need an exit strategy. The Set followers know we were here. Which means if they’re smart, they’ll be watching the airport in Yogyakarta.”
“Where’s our next stop?” Ash asked. “Did you read the signpost?”
“No, I haven’t even been able to look at the glyphs yet.” M gave a helpless shrug. “I have no idea where to go. And I’m going to need serious help on this set.”
“So for now we just need to find a place to lay low. Somewhere far from our last known location, which is here.” Ash ran his fingers through his dark hair, making it even messier than it already was.
“Voices,” M said. “That tour group is coming back. Let’s follow them out of the temple, hope nobody’s waiting for us, and go from there.”
“I wanted to stay longer,” a woman complained as she entered the gallery.
“The Buddhas all look alike. What’s there to see?” the guy with her asked.
Ash grabbed M’s hand and pulled her out of their hiding spot. “I’m with you,” he said, falling in step behind the couple. “I have seen enough Buddhas to last me a lifetime.”
“See?” the man said, grinning at Ash. “He knows.”
The couple continued to bicker as they walked around and around the temple. M and Ash joining in occasionally to make it look like they were a foursome. When they reached the bottom, M was relieved to see a bunch of people milling around. The ticket booth was open, and there was a long line. She was sure everyone waiting to buy a ticket had a cell, if not a huge camera. If Bob and Liza were watching the temple, they couldn’t make a move without being caught in a whole bunch of photos.
I Do Not Trust You Page 19
