to discuss it. Can I come by the Vicomte later?”
She smiled eagerly. “We’ll go out afterwards. My treat this time.”
There was splashing in the antechamber; then Mansoor appeared, bringing Elena with him. “What’s going on?” demanded Mansoor angrily. Gaille turned to her companion, expecting him to explain, but he only ducked his head, grabbed his baskets, and fled, leaving Elena and Mansoor staring openmouthed after him. “Who the hell was that?” asked Mansoor.
“Augustin’s dive buddy,” explained Gaille. “I think the pump might have been partly his idea.”
“Ah!” said Mansoor. “I hope he doesn’t think I’m angry at him. It’s that damned Augustin I want a word with.” He shook his head with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “What are the matchsticks for?” he asked.
“No one’s been emptying from here,” explained Gaille, pointing out the discrepancy in water levels. “We just wanted to know where it was draining.”
“And?”
“They seem to be converging on the plinth.” They crouched around it, their flashlights illuminating the dozens of silver trails of air bubbles escaping from beneath. “Akylos of the thirty-three,” murmured Gaille, struck by a sudden thought. “To be the best and honored above the rest.”
“The inscription from above the doorway?” frowned Mansoor. “What about it?”
“The Greeks loved their puns, you know.”
“Spit it out, girl,” said Elena.
Gaille pulled a face, worried they might think her crazy. “It’s just, you don’t think the inscription could mean that the rest—the other thirty-two, that is—are honored below Akylos.”
Mansoor laughed and squinted oddly at her. “You’re a photographer?”
She blushed, aware of Elena’s burning stare. “Languages, really.”
“I’ll get Ibrahim down here,” said Mansoor. “He needs to see this for himself.”
KNOX FOUND AUGUSTIN by the water table, putting on his wet suit. “Did Elena recognize you?” he asked Knox.
“I don’t think so. Did Mansoor catch you?”
“Not quite.” Augustin flapped his hand as though it had been scalded. “A close thing, though. Houf! I think for sure I am lobster bisque.” He nodded at the water. “A wise man would stay out of the way for a little while. You want to explore?”
“Let’s do it,” agreed Knox.
Despite the pump’s failure, it had made good progress during the night, so that the water came up only to their chins. They soon discovered what a maze it was, such an interconnected complex of passages and chambers that it made them even more aware of their luck at getting out alive the day before. In one chamber, the far wall had been painted with the outlines of loculi but hadn’t been cut. It took Knox a moment to work out why. There was a ragged hole in the ceiling, as though the workmen had accidentally broken through into another space. “Hey, mate,” he said, shining up his flashlight. “Look at this.”
Augustin came to join him. “What the hell?” he frowned.
“Give me a leg up.”
Augustin made a stirrup of his hands, hoisting Knox up into the new chamber. It was just high enough for him to stand without banging his head. He put his hand on the facing wall, built of limestone blocks, the mortar between them now crumbled to dust.
“Help me up, damn you,” said Augustin. “I want to see for myself.”
Knox reached down for his companion. When they were both up, they set about exploring. A narrow lane led right. There was a narrow gap at its end into a parallel lane flanked by a second block wall, then into a third with an outer wall of solid rock. So: a single chamber, some six meters square and two meters high, divided by internal walls into three lanes connected at one end, forming a capital “E.” They went together to the end of the central aisle. A flight of five steps led upward, then turned at right angles into a second flight, which vanished into the ceiling. Dull thumps sounded from above, shaking dust from the walls. “Jesus!” muttered Knox. “What was that?”
Augustin banged his fist against the ceiling. A smile of understanding broke on his face. “The rotunda,” he said. “This must be the original staircase. Yes. The Macedonians dug too far; they reached the water table. So? They built these limestone walls for support, they laid a new floor; they covered it with a mosaic. Parfait! The builders of the necropolis simply broke in here by accident five centuries later.”
THE MAIN CHAMBER had drained completely by the time Ibrahim arrived on site. Bringing heavy-lifting equipment down here wasn’t easy, so Mansoor had recruited Mohammed instead. The two men worked the