The Oracle (Fargo Adventures #11) - Clive Cussler Page 0,125
was a graffito that looked very much like the temple in the mosaic. And below it, what looked like a staircase set directly below the penultimate column on the right-hand side.
The very column they’d passed under on their way into the cavern.
CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR
A man who is patient is rewarded.
– AFRICAN PROVERB –
Nasha had been excited about the find, until she realized how long it would take to do the excavation just to find the hidden steps—assuming they really existed. Suddenly the prospect of returning to Nigeria with her uncle seemed far more tantalizing than the countless days of carefully removing centuries of dirt and crumbling ruins just to find them. When it came time for her and her uncle to leave for the airport an hour later, she didn’t protest.
Standing just inside the terminal, Remi was faced with saying good-bye to her. But unlike their previous parting at the school, this time when Nasha hugged Remi her face was filled with joy. “You won’t forget me, will you, Mrs. Fargo?”
“How could I?” Remi said. “You stole a piece of my heart.”
“No I didn’t. You gave it to me.”
Remi’s throat closed up, and it was a moment before she could speak. “Keep it safe for me?”
Nasha pulled her backpack from her shoulder, patting it. “Right here.”
“Nasha,” her uncle said. “It’s time.”
She nodded, then followed her uncle toward security, turning back to wave at Remi and Sam just before they disappeared into the crowd.
Remi leaned her head into Sam’s shoulder as they left the terminal.
“We’ll see them again,” he said.
“I know. Soon, I hope.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out. “This should help distract me from that ache in my heart. Renee thinks they may have found the secret entrance. Looks like home will have to wait.”
* * *
—
Ground-penetrating radar helped Renee’s team map the actual remains of the chamber hidden beneath the ancient mudslide. Once they’d removed several feet of dirt from that side of the temple, they were able to get to the pedestal belonging to the fallen penultimate column. The entire process of working the site was slow and tedious, but when they had uncovered the base, they found that the marble flooring was darker and cracked, whereas the rest of the temple floor appeared to be yellow marble, all still intact.
José documented their progress with photos and a measuring rod. Once he’d finished, he helped Sam, Lazlo, and Osmond carefully lift the top half of the broken slab and then the bottom. Crumbling stairs led down beneath the temple into a tunnel carved from the rock.
Remi moved next to Sam, staring into the narrow passage below the temple floor, while José took more photos. He stepped back and Sam turned on the flashlight, holding his hand out to Remi. “Shall we?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
They led the group downward, Sam’s flashlight reflecting off inscriptions carved in the rock walls much like the ones they’d found in the cavern hidden behind the ivy. They followed the passageway beneath the temple and eventually emerged into a cavern much larger than Amal’s. At first, it appeared empty, until Sam lowered the beam of his flashlight. Two chests sat at the far wall, the wood rotted, the contents partially spilling out to the cavern floor. The near-black patina of the tarnished silver plates, goblets, and bowls made it difficult to see the exquisite workmanship hammered around the edges. The other chest held spoons and a few pieces of jewelry, also tarnished with age.
“Okay, so not a king’s ransom,” Renee said.
“But a worthy find nonetheless,” Lazlo replied.
Remi moved closer. “So why would the Vandal King hide it?”
“Perhaps,” Lazlo said, “it was hidden from the Vandals when they invaded North Africa.”
“We may never know,” Sam said.
“Amal, look at that.” Remi pointed to the other side of the cavern. Sam aimed his light at a square oxidized-bronze charcoal burner. “That looks like it matches the lid on your mantel.”
As they moved closer, they noticed a tall, lidded cylindrical vessel made of bronze, standing behind it. Simple in structure, there were no markings anywhere on its surface except a Greek inscription in chased silver on the lid that read
Alítheia kai armonía.
“Truth and harmony,” Remi translated.
Lazlo moved closer. “Truth—from Parmenides’ poem ‘On Nature,’ perhaps?”
Amal took a breath. “If my grandmother’s stories are correct, this is what we were meant to protect.”
Renee, her attention on the vessel, circled around it and the charcoal burner, leaning in close. “Exquisite. We need photos, José.”
He opened his camera bag and set up his tripod and took photos from several angles around both artifacts. When he finished, Renee examined the taller vessel. “The moment of reckoning. Who wants to open it?”
Sam said, “You should do the honors.”
“Me? If not for you and Remi, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Remi?” Sam said.
“Sorry, Fargo. Or are you forgetting there’s a curse?”
José laughed nervously behind them. “I don’t want to die a violent death.”
“Me neither,” Osmond said. “Look what happened to Hank.”
“Lazlo?” Sam said. “You’re the one who translated the map.”
“I’ll be glad to look. After you break the curse.”
Remi laughed. “Open it, Fargo. His loss.”
“Or gain,” Lazlo called out. “Depending.”
Renee nudged Sam forward. “Aren’t you the one with royal blood? Just be careful. It’s over fifteen hundred years old.”
Sam looked at Amal. “Any warnings from the oracle?”
“Sorry. Fresh out of prophecies.”
“Have at it, Fargo,” Remi said. “Before the curse changes its mind about your royal lineage.”
Sam approached the cylinder, lifted the lid, and peered in.
“Well?” Remi asked.
“It’s here. The scroll.”
CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE
A happy man marries the girl he loves, but a happier man loves the girl he marries.
– AFRICAN PROVERB –
La Jolla, California
Goldfish Point
Sam opened up that morning’s newspaper as the light ocean breeze swept across the balcony where he and Remi sat drinking their coffee. Neither was surprised by the article that came out in the Lifestyle section of the paper, describing the historic find of the silver hoard and the Parmenides Scroll in Tunisia by Dr. Renee LaBelle, all of which was turned over to the Bardo National Museum in Tunis by Amal’s family. Of the treasure, it was Parmenides’ entire poem “On Nature” that was the greatest find since it had previously existed only in fragments. The mudslide sealing the tunnel had helped to preserve the scroll intact and it was the world’s only surviving copy.
Sam reached for his coffee cup, pausing when he saw Remi over the top of the newspaper. A soft smile played on her face as she tucked an errant strand of auburn hair behind her ear. At the moment, she was absorbed in something she was reading on her tablet. Sam lowered his paper, content to simply watch her. After everything they’d been through over the years of their marriage, it was the quiet moments like this that he appreciated most.
Eventually, she noticed him staring at her. “What,” she asked, “do you find so intriguing?”
“Besides you?”
She leaned over, kissed him. “Look what Wendy just sent. A class photo.”
Remi turned the tablet toward him and he saw everyone grouped in front of the new dorm. Pete and Wendy stood on one side of the girls, Monifa and Yaro on the other. While there were several new faces, he recognized most of the girls, including Okoro’s daughter, Zara. Beside her stood Maryam, Tambara, and Jol. But he had to smile at the sight of Nasha—front and center—wearing her little blue backpack.