Addison urged his camel into line between T.D. and Molly. He still had many questions for T.D., and he figured it would be difficult for her to dodge his questions in the middle of an open desert.
“Tilda, how much do you know about Malazar?” he began.
“More than I’d like to,” she replied. Only her eyes were visible behind the black turban and robe that covered her hair and was wrapped around her face.
“How is Malazar so rich? Why does he hate the Templars? How many treasures are there? And what happens if he gets them all?”
T.D. shook her head. “I can only tell you—”
“—when we come of age,” Molly finished.
“All right,” said Addison. “Are you allowed to answer questions about yourself? How did you become a Templar Knight?”
T.D. was silent for a while. Just when Addison was sure she was ignoring his question altogether, she spoke up. “D’Anger is not my real last name.”
Addison and Molly shared a look.
After a few more lumbering steps of her camel, T.D. continued. “The d’Angers were an ancient Templar family, like the Cookes. But they were driven to extinction. My grandmother was a driver for the last d’Anger. Monsieur d’Anger had no heirs, so he trained my grandmother instead. He taught her the Templar secrets. She took the family name to carry on the tradition.”
“How many Templars are left?” asked Addison.
T.D. squinted out at the endless sands and sighed. “Once, there were Templars all over Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East. Some even traveled to the Americas and even to Asia. But they have been hunted for centuries.”
“How many?” asked Addison again.
T.D. shook her head. “Many have vanished, many have gone into hiding.”
“Well, what about our branch?” asked Molly. “How many Tutores Thesauri are there?”
T.D. looked at Molly and then at Addison. “Your parents are dead. Your aunt and uncle are dead. The other families are gone. If neither of you live long enough to take the Templar vows, that leaves just your uncle Jasper. After seven hundred years, he is the last of your line.”
“And he’s no spring chicken,” said Molly.
Addison tried to find a silver lining in all this. “Well, if Molly and I live long enough to be allowed to take the oath, it will triple our membership numbers.”
“If,” was all T.D. said in response.
“T.D., do you believe in the prophecy?” asked Molly. “All the Templars must be killed. And then there will be some sort of prize?”
“I don’t know anymore,” said T.D. “Maybe I do.”
“It’s all superstitious claptrap,” said Addison. “Like how the Ring of Destiny gave King Solomon power over angels and demons. It’s nonsense. I don’t believe in prophecies.”
“That’s funny you say that,” said Molly.
“Why?”
Molly shrugged. “I keep thinking about the fortune-teller we met in the Khentii Mountains in Mongolia. The blind shaman with the deerskin drum. Don’t you remember what he said?”
Addison did not answer. He remembered the fortune-teller vividly, but he had spent months trying to forget the man’s words.
Molly recited aloud. Addison found that her memory of the man’s strange speech was nearly identical to his own. “I see a catacombs under a great city. I see your sister held prisoner on an island. I see a perilous journey through a hostile desert. I see a prophecy. You will feel alone in the world, but you have powerful allies you do not yet realize.”
Addison rode in silence for a long while as the little caravan plodded across the desert. Treacherous, jagged cliffs loomed overhead. The stream they were following tapered to a trickle and vanished altogether. It was nearly sunset before the dry riverbed forked and they spotted the Collective.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The Arabah
ADDISON RECOGNIZED THE FORK in the riverbed from Eddie’s map. Immediately north was the valley they were heading to. The map marked it like a bull’s-eye with the symbol of Solomon’s ring. The valley was encircled with cliffs, and it seemed the only way in was directly through the Collective’s encampment.
Dax drew the camels to a halt, and the group shielded their eyes from the setting sun to survey the scene below.
Addison watched Collective gang members scurrying to and fro in the valley, lighting cook fires and setting up tents. He saw a massive military helicopter parked on the sand. This explained how Malazar had beaten them to the location. Squinting, Addison could make out Ivan’s distinctive mop of hair; he was directing the men unloading crates of equipment from the chopper.
T.D. shook her head. “They’re blocking us from entering the valley. See how they’re using those crates to form a defensive wall?”
Addison followed her gaze and saw she was right. Guards were pointing in their direction, and Ivan appeared to be staring directly at them.
T.D. covered her face with the end of her turban and motioned to the others to do the same. “Bunch up the camels so they can’t count our numbers.”
Addison clicked his tongue and urged his camel to double up behind Molly’s.
“Let’s keep moving,” said Dax quietly. “And don’t look in their direction. With any luck, they’ll take us for Bedouins.”
Addison knew that the Collective would be on high alert and doubted they would be so easily duped. But it was worth a shot. Three hundred yards away, Ivan was now training binoculars on them, the setting sun glinting off the lenses. Addison hunched over his camel and drew his hood low over his face.
They led their camels along a dry, crumbling sandstone ridge, making as if to pass the valley entirely. Addison spoke just loud enough for the group to hear him. “The way I see it, we have two choices. One: we let Malazar find the Ring of Destiny first and then attack his entire gang, hoping to win it back . . .”
There were a few grunts and murmurs. Nobody seemed to favor that option.
“And the other choice?” asked Molly.
“The other choice,” said Addison, “is we wait for full darkness. We sneak past their camp into the valley and find Solomon’s ring ourselves. Then we escape in the night before Malazar even knows we were here.”
“We cannot beat Malazar in a fight,” said T.D. “The second choice is our least bad option. Find the ring and steal it before Malazar has the chance.”
“All in favor?” asked Addison.
One by one, everyone nodded.
The camel train was approaching a rocky crag that could shield them from the watchful eyes of the Collective encampment below. Dax twisted in his saddle to call to the group. “Jump down off your camels when you pass behind this rock.”
“What’s your plan, Dax?” asked Addison.
“I’ll keep the caravan heading toward the horizon. They’ll see the dust rising and the shapes of the camels and assume we’re Bedouin nomads heading into the Negev Desert.”
“How do we find you again?” asked Molly.
“I’ll double back with the camels under full dark. Sometime after two a.m., I’ll meet you back here at this rock and cover your escape.”
Addison saluted Dax with two fingers to his forehead and slithered down off his camel. Molly, Eddie, Raj, and T.D. jumped down as well. They watched Dax grow smaller down the trail, his shadow enormous in the dying sun.
Addison clapped dust off his hands and turned to face the group. “Well, that leaves five of us to find Solomon’s ring.”
“Four,” said T.D., stepping forward. “I am not going with you.”
“What?” asked Molly, spreading her hands wide in disbelief. “We could use you! Whose side are you on, anyway?”
Addison squinted at T.D., backlit by the sun. “Are you running away?”
“Running away?” Anger flashed in T.D.’s eyes, but she kept her
voice calm and even. “The Templars never retreat. They are the first onto the battlefield and the last to leave. The Templars fought the Mongol horde in Hungary, when they were outnumbered by tens of thousands. Five hundred Templar Knights took on Saladin’s army of twenty-six thousand at the Battle of Montgisard. Saladin fled, escaping to Egypt on a camel, his army wiped out of existence. No. A Templar Knight never runs away.”
“Well, then what are you doing?” asked Molly, her fists clenched. “Because it sure looks like you’re running away.”
T.D. straightened to her full height, towering over Molly. “‘Tilda’ means ‘warrior.’ The d’Anger family are the descendants of Norsemen, living in Normandy for a thousand years. Our family motto is Strength. I have saved your lives twice. You will need to have faith in me.”
Addison took a step closer to T.D. “The Cooke family are relic guardians. Every Templar family has a purpose. What exactly does the d’Anger family do?”
T.D. looked at him, her expression cold and determined. “I cannot answer that question, Addison. All I can tell you is . . . I am the last of my kind.” She shouldered her rifle and wrapped the loose end of her turban across her face to guard against the wind. She climbed down the rocky escarpment until she reached a narrow trail. And she strode away without a backward glance.
Addison watched her go until she disappeared into the blowing sands.
* * *
• • • • • •
With the older people gone, Addison suddenly felt alone. The utter isolation of the desert didn’t help. What would help was getting some rest. Addison realized they had slept only a few hours in the cargo hold of the 747 the night before. And they’d slept only two hours on Dax’s flight to Aqaba. That, coupled with a twelve-hour camel journey through the Arabah, and Addison’s crew was sorely in need of any sleep they could manage.
The group assigned watches and succeeded in grabbing a few hours of rest. It was Raj who woke everyone around ten p.m., tying his red bandana around his head and declaring it was “go-time.”
The moon was high in the sky as Addison’s group began working their way along the ridge, heading toward the valley marked on the Templar map. The sheer line of the cliffs was broken only by the small gap occupied by the Collective’s encampment. There was no way into the valley except to crawl right under the Collective’s collective noses.
It took the better part of a half hour for Addison’s group to reach the edge of the camp, and the worst part of an hour to crawl past it without making a sound. They stole past the soft red glow of the dying cook fires and scrambled up onto a rocky ledge. Before them, Addison could see a tall Russian guard patrolling the pass that led into the hidden valley.
Eddie rubbed his tired legs and stretched his aching back. He grimaced. “Remind me how big this treasure is again?”
Addison shushed him with a hand and consulted his fake Rolex. After waiting a long beat, he determined that the guard was patrolling the path in a loop every three to four minutes. The next time the guard disappeared around the rocky bend below, they would need to bolt through the pass.
Addison’s shoes were noisier than he preferred, crunching grains of sand against the gritty rock face of the ridge. Remembering his stealth training, he slid off his shoes and socks. His feet were about to get incredibly sandy, and he was miles away from anything resembling a bathtub. He paused, taking a fortifying breath. This, he felt, was a character-building moment.
When the guard strutted around the bend below, Addison waved his team into action. They scrambled down from their hiding place among the boulders and dashed through the pass between the cliffs. It seemed to Addison they were making an astonishing amount of noise. He did not dare stop sprinting until he had climbed high up a hill on the far side of the pass. Molly, Eddie, and Raj crouched beside him, keeping low to the ground. When they looked back at the pass, they saw no sign of the Russian guard.
Addison counted time on his Rolex, waiting a few minutes to make sure they had not been spotted. He took in his new surroundings. Towers of red sandstone loomed overhead. Below, the eerie silence of the desert. No buzz of insects. No rustling of leaves. Just sand, rock, and emptiness. Every tiny sound they made seemed amplified, as if it would carry for miles. Addison cringed when Eddie spoke up.
“So which way is the treasure?”
Addison cracked open his notebook and consulted his copy of the Templar map. He could see the forked riverbank before him, precisely as it was carved into the bronze tablet. Solomon’s ring, emblazoned with its six-pointed star, was drawn above the forked river. The trouble was, the ring was drawn so large, it seemed to cover at least two square miles of land in the basin below. Addison had no idea where they were supposed to start looking. Checking his Rolex, he saw that it was already pushing midnight.
Molly scanned the desert basin, a grimace etched on her face. She seemed to be having similar thoughts. “Do we know what exactly we’re looking for?”
Addison puckered his brow. “Solomon’s Temple was sacked in 587 B.C. His priests took his treasure to protect it from pillaging Babylonians. The treasure will be well hidden in some sort of chamber.”
“So where will this well-hidden chamber be?”
“Some place the Israelites would know well but the Babylonians wouldn’t.” Addison cast a line into the dark waters of his cerebellum. He could feel an idea nibbling at the line. If he waited patiently, and didn’t yank the hook, he might be able to reel it in.
He paced in a circle on the sandy bluff, tapping a thoughtful finger against his chin. Lost in his reverie, his bare foot scuffed against a heavy lump of rock. Addison bent down to examine it. It was a clump of shiny metal, like a piggy bank’s worth of pennies. Eyeing the rocky pass, he could see similar bits of metal glimmering in the moonlight. “Copper,” he said aloud.
The idea that had been quietly tickling his brain chomped down on the hook. Addison’s eyes lit up. “I bet I know what we’re looking for: King Solomon’s mines! That was the source of his wealth. That’s why the map took us out here in the middle of nowhere. What better place to hide a treasure from Babylonians than a deep hole in the middle of a desert!”
Addison turned and hurried up the ridge, scrambling over rocks and between boulders. It was a minute before Molly, Raj, and a panting Eddie caught up with him at the summit of the hill.
From their high vantage point, they eyed the vast valley below that hid the treasure of King Solomon. “There,” said Addison, extending a finger.
Visible in the glimmering moonlight was the open pit of an ancient copper mine. Addison smiled in triumph.
“What about there?” asked Molly. She pointed to a different gaping hole. “Or there?” She pointed to another.
Clouds parted, and the moon brilliantly lit up the valley. Addison’s eyes adjusted and his heart plummeted. The valley was swiss-cheesed with open pits. There were not dozens of copper mines. There were not hundreds of copper mines. There were thousands.
Addison panned his head from left to right, taking them all in. There seemed to be a circular pit, the size of a well, every ten or fifteen feet. The valley was more hole than desert.
“So which mine is it?” asked Molly.
Addison mutely shook his head. He had no idea.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
King Solomon’s Mines
ADDISON RETURNED TO PACING. “There’s some clue we’re missing. There must be a way to pin down the location of the ring. Eddie, let me look at your back again.”
Eddie obliged, turning around and spreading his arms, revealing the paint stain on his blazer. Addison, Molly, and Raj gathered closely, studying the splatters on Eddie’s back like three witches over a crystal ball.
Addison ping-ponged his head between Eddie’s jacket and the valley below. He could make out all the features of the map: the forked riverbed, the hairpin turn in the river, the cli
ffs surrounding the valley. He narrowed his eyes at the six-pointed star symbol inside Solomon’s ring on the Templar map. And that is when a solution snuck up behind him and smacked him on the back of the head. “No. Way,” he said quietly.
“What is it?” asked Eddie. “What’s on my back? Have you found something?”
Addison swiveled Eddie around. He knelt to the ground and used his finger to draw a ring in the sand. Inside the ring, he traced the six-pointed star. The points of the star touched the circle in six exact places. “Do you see?”
Eddie shook his head blankly. Molly and Raj shrugged.
“Look!” Addison pointed to the circular valley below. It was surrounded with cliffs, roughly forming the shape of a ring. Six large mines dotted the outer rim of the valley, exactly as in Addison’s drawing. “The symbol on the map is exactly where it should be. If you connect those dots, you form a star. This entire valley is an image of the Ring of Destiny!”
Raj’s mouth hung open, also forming a perfect ring. “Radical,” he whispered.
“There are six caves,” said Eddie. “Which one holds the treasure?”
“None of them,” said Addison, smiling. He spun Eddie around, pointing again at his blazer map. Inside the Ring of Solomon, at the exact center of the star, was a tiny speck of paint. “I didn’t see it before. It’s almost too small to notice. But there is a dot in the middle of the star.” He pointed down to the valley below. “If you trace lines from all six points, they intersect in the middle. Do you see it?”
Molly, Eddie, and Raj nodded. Of all the thousands of abandoned mines dotting the landscape, only one mine sat in the geometric center.
“That mine.” Eddie shook his head in awe. “I mean, the mine isn’t mine. It’s ours. But it’s a mine. It’s our mine.” Eddie stopped talking.
Addison Cooke and the Ring of Destiny Page 20