“This is the last item.” He laid an enameled brooch encrusted with baroque pearls on top of the pile in her hands and tucked the small purse away in a pocket.
Tightening her fingers around the precious hoard, Shalira raised her arms. Bathed in sunlight streaming from the skylights, she chanted in a variation of the Mahjundan language that his hypnotraining hadn’t included. Her voice was lyrical, mesmerizing in the way the rhythm rose and fell. Realizing he was dizzy, Mike blinked hard, reaching to steady himself against the red block.
Within the chamber, a humming had begun, like an accompaniment to the chanting, but in a much deeper tonal range. The strange sound vibrated through his spine and behind his ears in an unpleasant way. As if a breeze had sprung up inside the room, the dust and debris on the floor shifted hither and yon, moved into small piles. It was as if he and Shalira were cut off from the others, isolated on the island of the dais by sound and a wall of wind. Now the princess lowered her offering toward the block’s surface. Mike reached out, guiding her hands toward the closer of the two oval depressions. Electricity tingled through his nerves, blue fire danced in the air and he couldn’t release her fingers. His hands supported hers.
This time there was no invisible shield to prevent him from touching the stone. Contact with the altar hit Mike like ice water. Shivering, he felt Shalira trembling violently next to him, but the princess continued her ritual with no break in the song, although her voice grew wobbly. At last, their hands separated, and he jerked his fingers back. Shalira held one final, lingering note, suddenly opening her cupped hands.
The gifts she offered drifted the last few inches into the stone oval. One by one, as if falling through thick glue, the items touched the rock and disappeared in showers of red, yellow and turquoise sparks.
Shalira fell silent, licking her lips and lowering her head. She took a step backward. Hastily, Mike reached out to steady her and prevent her from toppling off the edge of the dais. Head against his chest, she leaned into him. “Is the offering accepted?” Her whisper was so thready he could barely hear the words. “Is there a key in the other bowl?”
“Lords of Space, there is a key.” He guided her fingers to the key that had materialized as a result of her entreaty. Carved from the same red rock as the altar, the massive key had three sparkling jewels set in the long shaft. The gemstones glowed red, yellow and turquoise as Shalira clutched it to her chest.
“Are you all right?” Johnny leaped onto the small dais. “The dust kicked up so fierce I couldn't see you. When I tried to climb up to watch your six, I was knocked clean off my feet. Felt like a force field. I'll have the bruises to show for it tomorrow.” His focus drifted to the princess, and he whistled. “Proper key for a tomb you’ve got there.”
“Your Highness, if we're finished in here, I think you need to get into the sunshine and relax for a few minutes before we open your mother's tomb,” Mike said. “You're shaking like a leaf. I don’t know about anyone else, but I could use a shot of black wine.”
“I’d like to sit and drink a cup of tea,” she agreed in a faint, raspy voice, clearing her throat.
The small party retraced their steps through the dark corridor without incident. Evidently the snakes had decided it was better to be somewhere else for the balance of this afternoon.
Rojar was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He eyed the key Shalira was carrying, but didn't ask any questions. In one hand he had a mug of steaming tea for the princess. In the other, he held the wineskin. “Here, I brewed spice tea for you, Your Highness. I’ve attended enough royal funerals to know the chanter needs an energy-reviving drink after the ceremony. I've fixed up a place in the shade for you to sit.”
“Thanks,” Mike said on Shalira’s behalf, taking the wineskin. “Lead the way.”
They took a break for at least half an hour while Shalira gradually recuperated. Sitting on a horse blanket Rojar spread out for her, she drank two cups of the spice tea. She kept her eyes closed as if her blindness wasn’t enough of a barrier between herself and the world right now. Mike had a long drink from the wineskin, enjoying the inner warmth it provided. Despite the heat of the relentless sun, he felt chilled to the bone. Sitting beside the princess, he wondered what challenge they’d face next on this strange quest. He debated offering Johnny’s services with the medkit, but on the whole she seemed physically fine, merely withdrawn.
After she’d downed the second cup and had more color in her cheeks, Mike touched her hand. “How are you doing?”
Opening her eyes, turning to the sound of his voice, she placed the empty mug on the blanket beside her and stretched. “Nothing to complain about. The tea helped steady my nerves. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I’ve been praying and resting, taking in the energy left in this holy place,” she said, rising but not moving away from him.
It was hard to concentrate with Shalira standing so close to him, her perfume a gentle accent. As he hastily stood, Mike fought his physical reaction to her proximity, resisted the temptation to sweep her into his arms. Forbidden fruit indeed.
“Do you know,” she said, “if I’d been born a thousand years ago, I would have been a high priestess? Even a hundred years ago, the gods were still respected, worshipped. I could have found my home in a temple, made my place happily, because I’m one who can channel the energy of the gods. Blind or not, I would have been cherished.” She bit her lip and winced, as if perhaps she’d not meant to reveal so much emotion.
“Is channeling energy what we did in there?” It was as good a description as any of what he’d felt during the ceremony.
She nodded, a wistful expression on her face. “Yes. I’ve never felt anything but crumbs of the power before. Until today, with you at my side. But now the people venerate other gods or no gods at all, and there’s no need for priestesses with my gift. No need for me even here at what used to be an important shrine.”
Saium walked up, interrupting the intimate moment. “Are you ready to proceed, Your Highness?”
“We’d better get going if we want to finish our task and leave the valley by dusk.” Her voice was husky, probably from the singing, but definitely stronger. “We can ride into the valley. Mother's tomb is the fifteenth one on the left side of the canyon.”
“I’ll recognize it.” Saium stared fixedly at the key.
“Then let's get going,” Mike said.
CHAPTER FOUR
As he rode through a narrow defile at the crumbling western side of the temple, Mike realized the canyon opened up beyond. The valley was long, perhaps five miles. He hadn’t ridden more than a hundred feet before passing the first of many heavy stone doors, each set flush into the canyon walls. The massive stone portals were well over nine feet tall, carved from single slabs of stone. In the center of each door was an indentation shaped like the key Shalira carried.
“I think my father will be the last to be buried here,” Shalira said somewhat sadly as the column picked its way through the valley. “If there are any priests left by the time he passes on. Empress Maralika certainly doesn't intend to be placed here, although I know he’s authorized a tomb to be prepared for her. I doubt if her son, the heir, subscribes to any religious views, never having heard a whisper of anything spiritual about him.” She laughed.
“No problem with grave robbers, I’m guessing,” Johnny said as they rode past another huge, blank door, this one veined in gray and black marble. “I wouldn't want to be here at night. I can see why Vreely is so pushy about us getting the job done and getting out of here.”
Saium spoke up. “The next door will be the emperor's tomb, then we arrive at the tomb of Shalira’s mother.”
Mike rode past a dark, gaping hole in the canyon. One of the big black slabs of rock lay flat on the ground, waiting for the not-too-distant day when it would seal off the mortal remains of Emperor Kajastahn.
A few hundred feet farther was a sealed tomb, and here the party stopped. Shallow steps had been cut into the canyon wall, lead
ing to the door. On the face of the panel, above the key-shaped indentation, a single word in the elaborate cursive form of the Mahjundan written language had been painstakingly chiseled.
“Lindia,” Saium barely breathed the name. He crowded his horse against Shalira’s and reached for her hand.
Mike glanced at the old guardsman. What exactly did the relationship between the emperor's Favorite Wife and her faithful guard involve? Man’s acting pretty broken-up, even all these years later. Waiting patiently for Shalira to regain her self-control, he let his horse crop at tufts of grass. The princess was speaking to Saium in a low voice, both appearing to be having trouble maintaining their composure.
Acting like a man with a deadline, Vreely wasn't so restrained. He and his troops were already dismounting and fanning out in the narrow canyon. “Your Highness, you must get on with your duty,” Vreely said, gripping her horse’s bridle. “We don’t want to be caught here after dark.”
“Give her a break, man,” Mike said. “She doesn't need your prodding to do her duty.”
Horse pushing his a bit to the side, Shalira reached out in his direction. “I’m reluctant to disturb my mother's sleep, but Captain Vreely is right. Will you help me dismount, please?”
Sliding off the stallion, Mike came to lift Shalira from her saddle, setting her gently on the first stair, holding her a fraction of a second longer than necessary.
“I’ve never seen a tomb opened,” Shalira told him, fidgeting with the oversize key. “I only hope this will work.”
“You’ve been spectacularly successful so far.” Mike tapped one finger on the key. “You got this, right?”
Biting her lip, she nodded.
“Well, then no reason for things to fall apart now. Let me help you up the stairs—there's a lot of loose gravel.”
Hand in hand with him, she climbed the five stairs, coming to stand in front of the massive slab of black stone. Shalira positioned the key in front of her face and Mike wrapped his fingers around hers to orient it to the door’s indentation. With Mike’s help, she pressed the key into the depression, matching all the curves to the lines of the strange locking mechanism.
The jewels in the shaft of the key flashed, and there was an audible click. Howling wind shrieked through the canyon, buffeting them all. Mike's ears were keen enough to hear the grinding of some inner mechanism as the door prepared to open. Grabbing Shalira unceremoniously, he carried her down the stairs, joining their fellow travelers, now scattered about on the far side of the canyon.
When the noise stopped, the wind and miniature dust storm died away. Mike gazed across the canyon to see the door hanging wide open, suspended on invisibly set hinges.
“All right, door’s open,” he said, jaw clenched. This spooky stuff made him nervous. “Now what?”
“The princess goes into the tomb and retrieves her clan insignia.” Vreely slapped his black riding gloves against his thigh. “I suppose you want to accompany her into the tomb, as you did at the temple, outworlder? Be my guest! My men and I’ll stay out here while you consort with the dead.”
With an air of having lost all interest in the proceedings, the Mahjundan shouted orders to his troopers to light a fire and make him something to eat. Mike stared after him speculatively, then glanced over to meet Johnny's narrowed eyes. His cousin’s furrowed brow and thinned lips suggested he felt the same concerns Mike had about what Vreely might be planning.
“Please, come with me,” Shalira begged, apparently mistaking his silence for reluctance. “Saium and Sergeant Danver may come also, but I don’t want others to intrude on my mother's sleep.”
Unconcerned, not offended at his exclusion, Rojar handed Johnny the two torches he’d brought along from the temple. “You’ll need these.”
“Keep an eye on things, will you?” Mike said in a low tone meant for Rojar's ears alone, before taking the princess’s hand to lead her to the steps once more. Together, they climbed the small incline and waited for Johnny and Saium to catch up.
Shalira raised her head, sniffing the air. “Do I smell moss blossoms?”
Reaching inside his tunic, Saium yanked out a slightly crushed, wilting bouquet. Glaring at Mike as if daring him to laugh, the old warrior said, “Lindia loved flowers.”
Stretching her hand to brush the blossoms, Shalira smiled. “So she did.”
Johnny lit the torches and held one out to Saium, which he took in his free hand. Then the quartet stepped into the entrance of the tomb.
The air inside was cool. Mike remembered having been told once that caves maintained an even temperature in the fifty-degree range. Tomb like this must be similar to a cave. The torches only partially alleviated the total darkness, but did reveal murals on the walls of the vestibule. The vertical surfaces had been smoothed and painted with an intricate pattern of bright green leaves and tiny pink flowers, creating a realistic effect in the uncertain, flickering light.
“Wait a minute,” Mike said as Shalira tugged at him to keep walking. “Hadn’t we better take some precaution to keep the door from closing by accident?”
She shook her head. “The door would resist any force on Mahjundar right now.”
Saium nodded to reinforce Shalira's words. “Go outside, try it, if you doubt.”
Even though both the princess and her guard were convinced, Mike wasn’t taking their safety on faith. “Johnny, go check.”
In a silence broken only by the hissing of the burning torches, Mike waited with his companions until Johnny rejoined them, his face a study in bewilderment. “She's right. I couldn't budge the door an inch, even with Rojar pushing too.”
Struck by a new problem, Mike touched Shalira’s arm to get her attention. “How are we going to shut the portal when you're finished? Surely you don't plan to leave your mother's tomb open for any passerby to trespass?”
“According to the legend, the door will stay open for three hours before closing itself, the key vanishing.” Shalira smiled. “Don't worry, we'll complete my errand and be on our way before you know it.”
Glad she can sound so calm about it all. Setting foot in the tomb had apparently steadied her nerves while the surroundings had the opposite effect on him. Concerned, he gave his cousin a once over, but Johnny avoided his gaze.
“Any other questions, or can we proceed?” Saium edged toward the dark mouth of the tunnel.
“Hell no, no more conversation,” said Johnny, waving him on with an extravagant gesture. “Let's get on with the tomb raiding.”
Only one passage led out of the vestibule. After setting the timer on his wrist chrono, Mike took Shalira by the hand to walk down the ramp leading deep into the canyon side. The torchlight illuminated intricate floral paintings on both sides.
Like being in an arbor on a moonless night. “Are all the family tombs decorated this way?” Mike asked.
“I’ve never seen the tomb,” Shalira responded. “But it’s been described to me. I was told my father put his finest artists and craftsmen to work on the task as soon as he realized Lindia was dying.”
“Not much farther now,” Saium warned.
Mike stumbled over an unseen threshold as the passage ended abruptly in a large open room. There were brass sconces set into the wall on either side of the entryway. Johnny and Saium stuck their burning torches into the waiting sockets.
“Incredible.” Mike visually quartered the room. “If I hadn't seen this myself, I wouldn't have believed it.”
A perfect oval, the chamber resembled the inside of a white lattice gazebo. More of the trompe l'oeil flowering vines had been painted as if twining through the latticework. Here and there, tiny jeweled, birdlike creatures like the myrdima which had serenaded them at the sacred glade were set into the foliage. Even the roof above was painted to mimic a dark blue starred sky, with the planet’s two moons rising on the far side of the vault.
Mike stared for a long minute. Some Mahjundan Michelangelo gave his all to this effort.
“After Shali
ra was born, her mother never regained her health. She’d lie by the hour in her gazebo, reading or napping.” Saium spun in a tight circle, staring at the walls. “The gazebo was Kajastahn's favorite trysting place. Lindia used to say it was their private world, away from all the troubles of the court and the harem.”
Shalira dropped Mike's hand, taking a tentative step toward the sound of Saium’s voice. The old man folded her into a bear hug and Mike heard the princess choke back a sob. Unseen by her, the grizzled warrior wiped away a furtive tear with the back of his hand.
Motioning to Johnny, Mike walked out into the center of the “gazebo,” where the pure-white marble sepulcher had been placed. A life-size figure of a woman had been carved on the top as if lounging on a couch, waiting for expected company. Delicately colored stone resembled living flesh in the torchlight. Glancing at the effigy’s face, Mike retreated an involuntary step.
The lifelike brown eyes were half-open, the coral-colored lips parted as if to speak.
Annoyed at himself for being so jumpy, Mike walked closer, examining the statue. Lindia was an older version of Shalira all right, but to his eyes, the princess was more delicately featured than her mother, with a sweetness of expression lacking in Lindia. The stone face, though undeniably beautiful by any human standard, displayed a hint of something off-putting.
“Probably the sculptor's fault,” he muttered, then checked his chrono. “We've used up about half an hour, folks. I think we’d better find the clan insignia. Do we have to move this statue, open the casket itself?”
“Oh, no!” Shalira’s horrified exclamation echoed in the small room. “My mother's remains are not to be touched.”
Mission To Mahjundar (A Sectors SF Romance) Page 7
