by Alex Archer
Then Harris leaned forward and said possibly the only thing that could make matters worse.
"That's it. We're out of ammunition."
Short of throwing their guns at their attackers, they now had no way of firing back.
* * *
D ESPITE S ANTIAGO'S OBVIOUS enjoyment playing with the fleeing vehicle, eventually Ransom had enough. It was clear at this point that there was no way they were going to stop, and even if they did, they obviously weren't going to give up without a fight.
It was time to be done with this and continue their hunt for Davenport and the rest of his men. Every minute they spent here meant the others were getting farther away.
Ransom passed the order to Santiago to end it.
* * *
A S K ENT THREW THE VEHICLE into another series of wild maneuvers, all thoughts of driving into a ditch forgotten as he sought to avoid getting hammered by the helicopter's chain gun, he lost sight of the chopper.
"Where did he go?" Kent shouted.
"I don't know!" Harris was frantically moving from window to window, trying to see through the haze of dust and smoke, searching vainly for their attacker but unable to find him, either.
"Well, find him, for heaven's sake! Before he finds us."
But it was already too late.
The helicopter popped up from behind a small rise to their left, hovering just a few feet off the ground, the rotors clearing the dust like a giant broom, giving them a clear view of their quarry. The gunner would have to be blind in order to miss, and unfortunately for the men in the truck, he was not.
The Gatling gun sang out and hundreds of slugs tore into the vehicle, shredding metal, plastic and human flesh on contact.
The truck continued forward for another few seconds before a stray slug punctured the fuel tanks and an explosion ripped through its frame, sending what was left of the vehicle bouncing end over end across the rocky landscape.
There was no way anyone could have survived the strike, but Ransom wanted to be certain so the gunner sent another round of slugs pulsing into the burning wreck.
When no one emerged after several long moments, Ransom gave the signal for them to move out, a smile of satisfaction on his face.
Behind them, the wreck burned brightly in the early morning sunlight.
28
Unaware of what was happening to their comrades, Davenport and the rest of the team awoke the next morning to find a thin coating of snow covering everything in sight. It was less than half an inch deep, barely worth worrying about and certain to melt before the morning was over, but for Annja it was a reminder that their time here was limited. Winter was coming, and once it arrived, it would mean the end of their search for six long months or more.
They were going to get one shot at this and that was it.
Better make it count.
They broke camp quickly and got under way, the knowledge that they were close to their destination spurring them on. In the light of day they were able to see that the density of the forest on the far side of the valley was not going to allow them to continue with the trucks, so supplies were transferred to backpacks that had been brought along for just such an eventuality and the group continued on foot. If all went according to plan, they would return to the trucks after finding the "voice in the earth" and figure out their next move from there.
They hiked upward into the trees for a couple of hours, taking a brief rest along the way to gulp down a cold lunch and rejuvenate their systems.
It was shortly after that that they emerged into a clearing about a third of the way up the mountain and were given the first chance they'd had to see what lay ahead of them since taking to the trees earlier that morning.
"There," Nambai said, pointing at a near-vertical wall of dark stone that loomed above the trees surrounding it a short distance away.
"The birthplace of the river is at the foot of that mountain."
He went on to explain how he had come here several years before, hunting eagle chicks to sell in the market in the city, and had seen where the river bubbled up from the base of the mountain, as well as where it diverged into three separate waterways shortly thereafter.
"How much farther is it?" Davenport asked, breathing a bit heavier than usual due to the exertion.
"Not far," the Mongolian said with a smile.
Apparently "not far" in Mongolian translated to "far enough that you'll want to strangle your guide for lying to you" in English. They climbed upward through the dense tree cover, using saplings to pull themselves forward when the trail, or lack thereof, became too steep.
Just when Annja's legs started screaming for release, the group emerged from the trees to see the river rushing past them perpendicular to their line of travel. Upriver to their left, the sheer face of the cliff wall rose from the forest floor like some looming giant, ready to squash them at the slightest provocation.
Nambai led them in that direction without comment.
Once they were close enough, they could all see that a raging torrent spilled out from under the base of that mammoth wall, bubbling up from somewhere deep beneath their feet. A few hundred yards downstream it split into three distinct rivers—the Onon, the Tuul and the Kerulen. They all had their common origins in that single waterway surging past their feet.
Davenport gathered the group around him and gave them their instructions. "All right, this is it. This is the place we've been looking for. I want you all to spread out and start looking around. We're searching for something referred to as the 'voice in the earth,' but that's all I can tell you about it, so look for anything unusual, any sign of human habitation, that kind of thing, okay?"
The rest of the team nodded their understanding, then split up and began covering the surrounding area. Wanting a little time to herself to think, Annja strode off on her own before anyone else could volunteer to accompany her.
She had to admit that she was surprised by the beauty of the place. After the drab colors of the plains and the scorched damage of the Restricted Zone, the green of the forest and the bright blue color of the river at their feet was a welcome change. As she walked along the riverbank she was able to relax for the first time in days, to just let go and enjoy where she was, even if it was for only a few minutes. The trees around her swayed in a gentle breeze that had kicked up shortly after they had arrived and though it made things a little colder, the air seemed fresher, the smells richer because of it.
She watched fish dart back and forth beneath the surface of the water, listened to the cries of the birds in the trees, but after half an hour without finding anything, she gave up and returned to their starting place at the base of the cliff.
Annja found a relatively flat rock to stretch out on and sat down, letting the afternoon sunlight warm her as she went back over everything in her mind. The answer was there somewhere; she knew it. She just had to ask the right questions in order to get the right answers.
She must have dozed off a little in the peace of the moment, for something intruded on her consciousness and she jerked upright, suddenly aware of how quiet the forest around her had become.
"Mason?" she called softly. "Mr. Davenport?"
There was no answer.
The air held an expectant feeling, ripe with tension, as if the forest around were holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
And she was all alone.
She reached out into the otherwhere, made sure she could get to her sword if she needed it. It was there as it always was, waiting for her touch to bring it to life, but she didn't draw it just yet. There would be time for that.
She waited.
Listened.
She was just about to call out for her companions a second time when, as if on cue, a deep, groaning cry burst up from the ground nearby.
She jumped in surprise, her skin rising in goose bumps, the sound just the right timbre to cause the hair across her body to stand on end.
The noise came again alm
ost immediately but this time it was gentler, quieter, and somehow she knew it would continue getting softer until she wouldn't be able to hear it at all.
She had to find its source before that happened.
Annja scrambled back to the point where the water surged up from beneath the cliff face, her gaze flashing frantically about, her ears straining.
Come on, come on, she thought, just one more time.
She caught movement out of the corner of her eye but she dared not turn away, dared not miss the opportunity, for who knew when it would come again.
"Annja!" she heard Davenport call, but still she didn't turn.
One more time. Please.
The voice obliged her.
It came again, much more softly, but this time she was ready for it, standing as she was directly in front of the wall when the sound issued from it a third and final time. She saw that it came from a small hole about the size of her fist, a hole that was at shoulder height and, lucky for her, on her side of the stream.
"Did you hear that?" Davenport asked, as he and Mason rushed over to her side. Williams and Kent weren't too far behind.
Annja barely heard the question. Guided by some inner sense she couldn't define, she watched as if from afar as she put her hand inside the hole and pushed.
A deep grinding sound came from somewhere within the wall in front of them and a section of the stone a few feet away rolled slowly to one side, revealing an opening large enough for several of them to fit through at once.
Annja started toward it, but Mason stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Hang on a second. We do this the smart way."
He pulled a pair of high-intensity flashlights out of his pack, keeping one for himself and handing the other to her.
Together, they stepped as one through the opening.
29
The door opened up into some kind of antechamber, complete with benches around the perimeter and niches in the wall for storing items.
There was a door directly across from the one they'd entered and even in the dim light of their flashlights they could see that it led down a short tunnel and opened into a large space just beyond. A sconce holding a torch hung on either side of the door and they paused a moment to light them, noting from the dust and cobwebs that neither torch had been lit in many years, ages even.
The torchlight flickered off the stone and sent their shadows chasing after them as they continued. Their footfalls sounded louder than normal in the narrow confines and deep silence of the place. Annja felt the thrill of discovery coursing through her. It was what she loved about archaeology—the suspense, the anticipation, the wonder, of what they might find and what they might learn.
Satisfied that there wasn't anything immediately threatening inside the chamber, Mason called out to Davenport and had him join them. After all, this was his expedition. Jeffries and Nambai came in, as well, leaving Williams and Vale to guard the entrance and to watch for any sign that Ransom might be on to them again.
Once the others were inside, Annja and Mason continued on. They quickly found that the short hallway opened into another room, though this one was much larger than the first; they could see darkness pooling out beyond the edge of their torchlight, indicating there was more to uncover. But they barely paid any attention to that fact as soon they got a glimpse of what had been drawn across the floor in the center of the room.
It was a map.
It had been painted on the floor and was partially obscured by years of dust and dirt, but it was clearly recognizable as such. With specific instructions from Annja, everyone got down on their hands and knees and gently brushed the loose debris off the painting, exposing it all for perhaps the first time in centuries. Once they were finished, they stood back to examine what they had uncovered.
Not the handiest thing to use in finding your way around, was Annja's first thought. Maps needed to be portable in order to be useful and this was anything but. Still, you didn't create a map of this size and then hide it away from the rest of the world if there wasn't a point to it. There was a reason it was here and she just had to discover what that was.
Like many ancient maps, this one was more a general representation of the surrounding area than a scale drawing. In some ways, that made it easier to read. The blue line that split in three and stretched down toward the bottom of the map obviously represented the three rivers. The round circle with the three squiggles running out of it near the source of the river must represent the voice in the earth. And the tall peak rising above the others could only be Burkhan Khaldun—God Mountain.
The entire map had been produced at a huge scale, so that you literally had to walk from one side of the chamber to the other in order to see it all.
Annja was still doing just that, working her way slowly from the lower section of the map, which represented the area they had traveled through the day before, toward the summit of God Mountain, the most likely place for Genghis Khan's tomb to be located. She was determined not to miss anything significant.
There was a shout of excitement from the far side of the room.
"Annja!" Davenport yelled. "Come quickly!"
He was standing roughly two thirds of the way up the slope of the large black triangle that represented Burkhan Khaldun and waving to her frantically.
So much for meticulousness, she thought and headed over to see what the commotion was about.
A symbol had been drawn on the map—a crude sketch of a woman riding a horse—and next to it were words in a fine flowing script that looked to be Mongolian. Annja couldn't decipher it, but it turned out Nambai could.
"The sixty…I think that translates as brides…rode sixty horses and now sleep under the, um, not sure what that word is…eyes of those who came before," he said.
Before he could move on to the second set of verses, both Annja and Mason spoke up, translating it from memory. "'In their arms is the truth you seek, the way to all that was and more.'"
It was an exact match to the hidden message Annja had uncovered in Curran's journal!
Nambai looked at the script, then nodded. "That's right. How did you know?"
"It's a long story," Mason replied and went on to explain about the message hidden in Curran's journal.
While he did that, Annja squatted down, letting her fingers trace the outline of the symbol on the map, wonder running through her veins as she realized that they were one step closer to their goal. The symbol put the Tomb of the Virgins on the south slope of Burkhan Khaldun, which couldn't be more than a day's hike north of their current position. They were so close!
Her musings were interrupted by Mason. "You'd have to ask Annja," he said.
She looked up at him. "Ask me what?"
"Nambai wants to know what the whole 'brides and steeds' thing means."
"Right."
The playful gleam in Mason's eyes told her that he wanted to know, as well, but he wasn't going to admit that when he had someone else to play the innocent. She threw him a blatantly fake smile, to let him know that he wasn't fooling anyone, least of all her.
"Well, the theory I'm running with at the moment ties the riddle back to the things we know about the Khan's burial." She stood, brushed off her hands on the legs of her jeans. "When Genghis died, he was in China with his army. Not wanting to bury his body among his enemies, his generals had it transported back to his homeland with an honor guard of sixty warriors. The guard traveled ahead of the funeral train, so in essence they could be said to have 'come before' Genghis. Once the procession reached the place in the Great Taboo where they intended to bury him, the entire honor guard was slaughtered down to the last man."
"That's what they get for volunteering," Mason remarked, but Annja ignored him. She noted that she had Davenport's and Jeffries's attention now, as well.
"Along with the honor guard, sixty virgins and sixty of the finest horses were sacrificed to provide the Khan with a harem and a herd for all eternity. Legend states that they were all buried t
ogether in a magnificent tomb, commonly referred to as the Tomb of the Virgins, but its exact location has always been a mystery because those who did the burying were themselves slaughtered to keep the secret safe."
"If I'm right, the phrase 'the way to all that was and more' means that we'll find the next clue inside that tomb."
She pointed to the symbol of the woman on horseback that graced the map at Davenport's feet. "And that tells us where to find it. Come on, I'll show you."
She led them all back outside and pointed up at the looming peak of Burkhan Khaldun. The mountain was far higher than the rest of those around it, making it easy to locate, and even from here they could see the deep snow that covered most of its face.