Geiger counter and sighed with a scowl. “Some background radiation, but no more than what was detected at the other four stops.”
“Nothing’s here,” Seichan said.
Maria moved closer. “What about farther up the river channel? If the boat can’t take us, we could hike in from here?”
Gray shook his head. “We’d be searching blind. The radar scans don’t show anything promising from here, especially as the mountains pack in more tightly and steeply to the north.”
Father Bailey blew out a long, exasperated breath. “Then we’ll have to return to the Sous and check the tributaries to the east and west of this one. The ruby on the gold map couldn’t have been that precisely placed. Likely just marked a general location.”
Kowalski shrugged. “At least, this place is named right. River of Sorrow. Because I’m feeling pretty sorrowful right now.”
Gray couldn’t argue with him and waved to the falls.
“Back we go.”
4:04 P.M.
Mac lingered by the pool as the others headed downstream. He stood in a patch of sunlight, warming himself after the cold drench of the falls. He shaded his eyes and stared across the breadth of the cliff face.
As a climatologist, he was accustomed to studying landscapes, rocks, and forests to get a better understanding of how changing climate altered a terrain, how as one ice age ended or another started, it left a record behind for a sharp eye to read.
Maria noted he had not followed and returned to his side. “What is it, Mac?”
He pointed to the top of the falls. “See how the rock is scalloped at the cliff’s edge, worn by centuries of flowing water over its lip? It’s far wider than can be accounted for by the volume of the stream tumbling over the rock.”
“That’s consistent with what Charlie told us, how this whole area was once far wetter. The Sous River more of a bay. And its tributaries robust torrents.”
Mac took several steps away and drew Maria with him. “Look at this.” He pointed up toward the cliff and swept to the north. “Follow the cliff edge and what do you see?”
By now the others had returned, drawn by their voices.
“What are you all looking at?” Gray asked.
Maria finally saw it, too. “Other scallops along the rim of the wall.”
He nodded. “Long ago, not only was this stream larger, but there were others that once flowed down here that have long since dried up. By my count, five.”
Mac pictured how this must have once looked, with five mighty waterfalls flooding into a large river flowing down to a wide bay. The whole area must have shone with scores of rainbows. The mist-shrouded cliffs were likely covered in greenery and full of nesting birds. The forests taller, roamed by lumbering elephants and lions.
Father Bailey interrupted his reverie. “Five rivers . . .” he mumbled.
Mac glanced over. “What about them?”
Bailey pointed from the falls back to the channel where the cruiser and its captain waited for them. “Charlie called this tributary Assif Azbar. The River of Sorrow. But there was another river that bore a similar name. It struck me before, but I didn’t place much significance on it, attributing the association to simple poetic license, especially with the history of people vanishing up here. But now, knowing that another four rivers had once flowed through this area, it makes me wonder.”
Gray pressed him. “About what?”
“Another river once went by that same name as the tributary behind us. The mythic Acheron. Known to be the river of sorrow, pain, and woe.” The priest turned to the group. “It was one of the five rivers that passed through Tartarus leading to the heart of Hades. They were the Acheron, the Lethe, the Phlegethon, the Cocytus, and lastly, the river Styx.”
Gray took a deep breath, stepping forward, craning up. “Whether you’re right or not, Mac’s keen eye has offered us another four places to search. And if those five waterfalls once graced this corner of the chasm, I know where I’d place the entrance to my underground city.”
He pointed to the centermost scallop in the cliff.
Seichan drew alongside him. “It appears to be the widest and deepest, too.”
Mac pictured a huge waterfall flanked by two more on either side.
Gray clapped Mac on his good shoulder. “That’s where we need to go.”
32
June 26, 4:42 P.M. WEST
Marrakesh, Morocco
From the back of the helicopter, Elena watched the city of Marrakesh drop away as their chopper headed off from a refueling stop in the city. As it climbed higher, she spotted a glint