Miranda's Viking

by Maggie Shayne

  Miranda had no idea why Jeff had insisted on coming along. He seemed loath to let any of them out of his sight. Maybe he was as concerned about theft as Erwin was, but Miranda suspected he had an ulterior motive.

  She was sorely disappointed that the two had come along. She'd wanted it to be just her and Rolf, alone together. There were so many things she wanted to say to him. She wasn't even sure what things exactly, but she knew they had to talk. Their relationship had changed now. At least on her part it had. What they'd shared last night had been far more than sexual… unless he didn't see it that way. Maybe that was why he seemed so distant today. Maybe he didn't want her reading more into it than a simple one-night stand.

  At the shore, Rolf tugged the boat up out of the water without aid and then looped the rope around an outcropping of rock. There were no trees to tie to. They were north of the tree line. Nothing much grew here. There were only the craggy, glacier-formed hills to their left and the endless, flat tundra to their right.

  Saunders glanced uneasily toward the rocky hills and the crop of dome tents nestled nearby. "I'll remind you again, Miranda, not a word about our mission."

  "Don't worry yourself," she snapped. "Rolf and I are going straight to the cave. You two can do what you want." She snatched up the backpack beside her and slung it over her shoulder.

  She hiked away, skirting the tents and heading up a sharp incline toward the cave's entrance. She knew Rolf followed, but she was in no state to walk in companionable silence with him just now. She was unsure of his feelings, confused by his apparent hostility toward her and more than a little hurt by it. Erwin's attitude had nettled her still further until now she felt like swearing at someone.

  Still, all of her disquiet faded when she stood at the opening in the ice. The crew left behind had widened it, so it was a much simpler matter to step in than before. Even so, her heart quickened its pace and so did her breathing. Her palms, despite a temperature below thirty degrees, began to dampen with sweat inside her heavy-duty gloves.

  An archaeologist with claustrophobia was like a pilot with acrophobia, the way Miranda saw it. She clenched her teeth and slipped the pack from her back. She bent over it, unlacing the flap and removing the items they'd need. Two helmets with lamps attached, a length of rope and a pair of carabiner links, to go with the ones on the belts they both wore at their waists, and an extra flashlight just in case. She plopped on her helmet and fastened its chin strap. She slipped the flashlight into one of the deep pockets of her overalls and looped the rope, carabiners attached, over her shoulder. By the time she finished, Rolf was standing behind her, scanning the cave entrance with narrowed eyes.

  "What is it? Do you know this place?"

  He shrugged. "I am unsure. The ice—"

  "The glacier moved in after the shipwreck, Rolf. It might not have looked like this the last time you saw it." She handed him a hard hat and he scowled. "Put it on," she said firmly, "or we don't go in. And be sure and fasten the chin strap, or the entire helmet is useless."

  Rolf nodded and obeyed. Miranda reached up to the top of his hat and flicked on the light, then did the same with her own. Drawing a deep breath, she slipped over the lip of ice and jumped lightly to the floor below.

  She stepped aside and in a moment Rolf landed beside her. He straightened and turned slowly, the light of his helmet moving over the stalactite-covered ceiling, pausing on the glasslike needles sprouting like vegetation from one of them.

  "Helictites," Miranda said softly, some of her irritation with him fading as the familiar thrill of discovery began coursing through her. "They're formed by seeping water. Look." She turned her light on another of the crystalline bushes growing upward from one sloped wall, seemingly in defiance of gravity.

  Rolf remained silent, nodding as she spoke, but making no comment. She led him through the passage, reminding herself that she'd been here before and hadn't suffered a single bout of panic. It was not a small, cramped crawl space, but a wide, arching passage, with plenty of room to breathe. She'd be fine.

  After entering the massive room, Miranda paused, and pointed to the flat stone table. "That's where we found you."

  When Rolf glanced around the room his eyes widened as if in recognition. "This? This is where they put me to rest?" He sounded incredulous.

  "Yes. Right there, on that flat stone." She couldn't help but recall her odd reactions to her first glimpse of him. "I stood at this spot, only facing the other way," she told him.

  "This is not credible."

  Miranda shivered, and prickles ran along the back of her neck as they had once before. "I got this weird feeling all of a sudden, as if someone was standing right behind me. And I turned and saw you lying there." Her voice softened as the memory came flooding back.

  "Miranda, are you certain it was this cave—"

  "I fell to my knees when I saw you." She took a deep breath and signed. "It was as if they just turned to water. And I think even then I had the most profound sense of sadness that you were not alive."

  Rolf stood perfectly still, his gaze narrowed, raking the cave's interior. "How could they have known?"

  "I think I was meant to find you here. I know it isn't scientific or logical, but I honestly believe it. I think that somehow all my father's work was truly just to lead me here, to you, though he never knew it."

  At last Rolf drew his gaze from the room around them and met hers. He lifted a hand toward her face. "Miranda, do you mean to say—"

  At that moment a violent explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet. It felt like the entire world was quaking and Miranda fell to her knees much as she had the first time she'd set foot in this cave. Fear gripped her with fists of ice as the roar ripped through her eardrums, to be followed by a low, ominous thunder that matched the racing of her heart. Beneath her knees the uneven stone floor clawed at her through the heavy overalls and wool underwear. Her palms vibrated where they were pressed to the ground. Fragments of stone rained down onto her back and the rumble grew louder.

  Buried. She was going to be buried alive, here and now. All of a sudden she couldn't catch her breath. She gulped desperately, dragging little but dust into her lungs.

  Then strong hands gripped her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. Rolf put his arm around her shoulders and, bending them both low, ran with her. She thought he spoke, but she couldn't hear. She was only aware of her fear, of the grim certainty that she was about to be smothered by the earth that surrounded her, and the knowledge that she didn't want to die so young. Not when she'd just begun to come alive.

  Dirt and dust rained so thickly it was impossible to see even with the headlamps still glowing. The showering stones grew steadily larger and she sensed that in seconds the entire cave would fall down upon them. Her panic overcame her and she would have frozen in fear had Rolf not propelled her along at his side. He released her, pushing her down as he shoved with all his might at the stone table which had once been his bier. She couldn't make sense of his actions, not until the stone moved. Rolf's face tensed with the strain, and he bared his teeth as he pushed, and without thinking at all about it, Miranda rose and pressed her hands to the stone, as well, shoving with all of her strength.

  It moved a bit farther. Rolf pointed and Miranda obeyed without question, slipping down into the opening the rock had concealed. Her fear of this small, dark area was secondary to the fear of remaining where she was and being buried.

  She felt a stone ledge under her feet, and then she ducked her head beneath the huge table above. Waiting for Rolf to join her, she fought a fit of violent shaking that engulfed her body. She screamed aloud when he disappeared, instead. A moment passed, a moment in which she felt certain she'd lost him. But then he returned, carrying the length of rope in one hand. He must have gone to get it from the floor where she'd fallen with the first jolt. He squeezed through the small opening to join her.

  "Rolf, what—"

  "No," he shouted above the roar, swinging one arm out t
o snag her around the waist. "Do not move. There is no floor. I must lower you down." He aimed the beam of his light downward. She gasped when she saw how near she stood to the edge of the small protrusion of stone that held her. He pressed the carabiners linked to the rope into her hand. The air was thickening with dust and a lot of rubble was falling on him through the small opening. "Get down, Miranda. We'll be buried soon."

  She snapped the locking carabiner to the link on the belt at her waist. Rolf didn't anchor his end of the rope. He only braced himself and held it in his hands. Miranda trusted him. She pushed off from the side and quickly rappelled down the sheer stone. She tried not to imagine what kind of debris was pounding Rolf's body from above. She moved as fast as possible, and the second her feet were on solid ground, she cupped her hands and shouted up at him, "Rolf! Come on, hurry!"

  His form came hurtling down from the darkness above. He landed with a terrible impact, tumbling forward and then lying still. He made no move to get up. Miranda rushed forward, falling to her knees beside him, her heart in her throat. She gripped his shoulders and shook him hard. "Rolf, come on. Get up. Get up!"

  He opened his eyes. "Can you never stop giving orders, woman?" Slowly he maneuvered himself up onto his knees, a difficult thing to do, she imagined, since her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck as he attempted it.

  She pulled back just enough to scan his face by the light of her helmet. "Are you all right? Please tell me you're all right."

  "I am, but are you?" His hands cupped her head, molding her hair to it, he held her so tightly.

  "Yes. Fine." She hugged him and he cradled her to his chest.

  "Thank the gods, Odin and Thor and Tyr for their mercy. I feared they would punish my foolishness by taking you from me, Miranda."

  "What—"

  "Later. We will speak of these things later. Now we must not." He stood slowly, lifting her with him.

  Miranda began to get her bearings and to believe that, perhaps, she wasn't going to die just yet, after all. It was cooler in the cave where the temperature remained steady year round. She put it at twenty degrees Fahrenheit or a little less. Still, with the absence of the cruel Arctic wind, it wasn't the same chilling cold as outside. The stone walls were smooth and black, much like the ones above. They were rough and uneven, with otherworldly columns protruding down from the arching stone above, narrowing at their middles, widening again as they stretched to the floor like sentries standing guard. But there were newer speleothems, as well. Unlike the ones at the entrance above, which had been formed long before the glacier had rendered the cave airless, many of these appeared to be in the process of formation. Which meant this was a well-ventilated area… which in turn meant there must be an opening somewhere.

  Finally, she thought, her brain seemed to be functioning on all eight cylinders again. "Rolf, how did you know about this place?"

  "The better question would be, how did the Skr—the Inuit know?"

  She could hear him much more clearly now. Apparently the falling rubble had sealed the hole through which they'd descended, and maybe the avalanche above was nearly over, as well. "Are you telling me you've been here before," she asked. "Before the shipwreck?"

  "Yes. Miranda, the secrets of this cave were to fund my village, and then my city. They were to make me a respected leader, or at least a feared one. It was to be my revenge."

  She studied him, her mind jumping far ahead of his words. "Go on. Are you saying this is the place…"

  "Já"

  She swallowed hard. "This is where you stashed all the plunder? My God."

  "Miranda, the sound I heard before the cave fell in, it was not natural. Not the sound of falling rock or the splitting of ice."

  She nodded, recalling the initial roar and the violent shock wave. "I think it might have been some sort of explosive."

  "Another of your modern weapons?"

  "They can be."

  "We were not far from the entrance, Miranda. Someone has decided to kill us both." Rolf touched her face again, then moved his hand to stroke her jawline, then her neck. "I have never been so afraid… afraid you would be hurt or…" He shook his head. "Never have I had such a weakness, Miranda."

  Miranda covered his hand with her own, then wished she wasn't wearing gloves. "I would have been killed if you hadn't been here." She swallowed hard and looked around her, her light moving with her head. "Then again, we're not out of here yet."

  "Do not be afraid." he assured her. "I will see you to safety, Miranda, do I need dig us out with my hands."

  She smiled at him, taking some comfort from his words, but not nearly enough. A shudder went through her. "This was deliberate. I guess Erwin was right."

  Rolf tilted his head. "Your Fletcher Travis believes someone may wish to steal not the treasure itself, but the credit for locating it. Does this theory make sense to you?"

  Miranda considered for a moment, then sucked in a sharp breath. "If Fletch is right, they'd have to get rid of everyone who knew better. Including Fletch and Erwin."

  Rolf nodded. "And who knew precisely when we entered this cave, Miranda?"

  "Only Erwin… and Jeff. Jeff!" She bit her lip. "He lost all credibility in the scientific community when he went to work for Cryo-Life. He didn't care then. He only wanted the money they were willing to pay him. But it began to gall him after a while, the lack of respect. If he could claim credit for this find…"

  "You'll not prevent me from killing him this time, Miranda." Rolf picked up the rope that lay coiled at his feet. He must have tossed it down just before he'd jumped. He wound it up quickly as Miranda released the carabiner from her belt. He looped it over his shoulder, clasped her hand in his, and started forward.

  For some time he didn't speak, only guided her farther along the uneven rocky floor. They were shrouded in absolute darkness. The only areas visible at all were those where the beams of light from their hard hats cut through the pitch-black cave as they moved along. Directly ahead of them she heard the sound of rushing water. She stiffened, the proximity of the fickle sea leaping into her mind, but Rolf inexorably pulled her onward, never slowing his pace.

  They rounded a bend, and immediately ahead of them a waterfall tumbled and splashed into a dark frothy pool at their feet. Breathless, Miranda could only stare, awed by the simple beauty of the spectacle. She strained to see through the dark, and thought the pool was actually a stream, which wound and twisted its way down another passage to the left.

  Rolf shone his beam downward, then leapt easily over the water to land on the other side. There seemed no obvious reason to be there. He stood with his back to a wall, upon a narrow ridge of black stone, beside the waterfall. Trusting him nonetheless, Miranda leapt across to join him.

  She caught her breath as he drew her back until she was pressed flat to the cool stone wall, then slowly he sidestepped and took them right behind the cascade. Miranda watched the curtain of water flowing down in front of her and felt the oddest sensation of having just stepped through the looking glass. Her surprise increased when Rolf seemed to disappear through the wall at his back. Her breath caught in her throat, for his hand still clutched hers and he was pulling her through with him.

  It wasn't a wall, after all, but a hidden fissure within the wall. Beyond it, Miranda thought, was the treasure of Ali Baba. As Rolf moved the beam of light around the chamber she saw the remains of what were once trunks and chests. The iron bands on most had rusted to nothing, with bits and pieces here and there still showing their original shape. The wood, too, had rotted, leaving little but black piles of mulch where it had been. Amid these remains were heaps of tarnished silver, piles of gold, relics of every imaginable kind. There were chalices and goblets, necklaces and jeweled bracelets, headdresses with—Miranda moved closer, leaning over one piece in question—yes, diamonds, rubies, sapphires. Daggers with jeweled hilts and mounds of ancient coins littered the floor. Brooches of gold, silver combs, strands of pearls and golden chains. Silver bowls
, rings, belt buckles, golden plates and bronze sculptures. And those were only the few things she could identify from the light of the beam. There were many more, oh, so many more. The piles of treasure, their chests long gone, lined the entire chamber.

  She was nearly speechless with wonder. To a person in her profession, this was a dream come true. She glanced at Rolf, suddenly aware that, from his point of view, this all belonged to him. "If we tell the authorities, they'll take this all away from you, Rolf. This will be considered the property of the government of Canada. Beaumont University might get to study it for a time, but then it would have to be returned. Do you understand that?"

  "You speak as if there is another choice," he said in a low, steady voice.

  She blinked. "Well, I suppose you could try to smuggle some pieces out of the country. Sell them to an unscrupulous dealer or collector somewhere. Believe me, just a few of these treasures would give you all the money you could hope to spend in a lifetime."

  "And you would not reveal my actions?"

  She answered thoughtfully. "No. Of course I wouldn't. It's just that we can't tell anyone your role in this discovery without admitting who you are, and we can't do that."

  He searched her face, seemingly trying to see through to her soul. "And if it were learned that you helped me in this way?"

  She averted her gaze quickly. "It… wouldn't be good."

  "I believe, Miranda, that your… career… would be at an end. Would it not?" She shrugged. "And yet, you would still allow me to take what I wanted?"

  "It's yours," she said quickly, though she knew it wasn't true.

  He shook his head slowly. "Nei. It never was." She glanced up at his odd words, but he showed no inclination to speak any further on that subject. "Morsi had no idea what he gave up by sealing us in here."

  "No. But I guess he must have decided he had to get rid of us before we announced finding the ship," Miranda said as her mind began working to find a way out of their predicament.

  "The Inuit must have seen my men and me as we left this place that first time. They returned my body here, since it was the only place they connected with me."