“Will we find it?”
“The only way to find something is to seek everything. The only way to find everything is to seek nothing.”
“So . . . is that a yes or a no?” asked Molly.
The shaman only giggled his reedy, gap-toothed laugh. “You will find more on this mountain than you came looking for. But it will cost you dearly.”
Addison leaned forward, spilling his doubts to the old man. “Should we continue on our journey? Should we even be here? Should we just go back to New York?”
“There is no cheating your destiny.” The shaman’s expression changed to sadness. “If you do not face your problems in this lifetime, my son, you will only have to face them in the next.”
It was hours before Addison finally found sleep. He spent the night under the outcropping, wrapped in a blanket of bearskin he borrowed from Nobody. The thunderstorm rocked Addison’s dreams with visions of his past and his future. In the morning, the rains were gone, and so was the old man, vanished without a trace.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The Cliff and the River
ADDISON’S GROUP BREAKFASTED ON jerky Nobody had packed for the journey. Molly performed her morning martial arts practice with I Don’t Know. They sparred on top of the rocky outcropping as morning light filled the valleys below. Molly was pleased to land a kick.
“You’ve been practicing,” said I Don’t Know, rubbing her hip where Molly had clipped her. I Don’t Know was older and taller than Molly, with a longer reach. She did not expect Molly to slip anything through her defense. She smiled. “You’re strong; I can tell you’re a soccer player. But you need one more ingredient before your kicks have true power.”
Molly was all ears.
“Don’t hold your breath. You’ll move faster when you exhale. Whether you swing a sword, a punch, or a kick—always breathe out. Your life force is in your breath.”
Molly tried her Mongol-Zo roundhouse kick, this time with a sharp exhale. It felt smooth and effortless. She was improving. She smiled at I Don’t Know.
Addison’s team spent the morning hiking north through a white birch forest. After a few miles, the woods deepened into Scotch pine, and finally towering Siberian larch that blocked out the sun like high-rise apartment buildings. At last, Nobody found the forbidden river that spilled down the side of the mountain. Over millennia it had cut a deep gorge. White waters raged a thousand feet below, but high in the cliffs, the sound was peaceful.
Addison took out his notebook and reread Sir Frederick’s final clue.
“In the land no living Mongol may pass, I climbed the eagle cliff.
I swam beneath a river, and crawled under a mountain to the city of the dead.
Know the Khan to open the tomb; know thyself to escape.”
Addison turned to Nobody and I Don’t Know. “We need to find this ‘eagle cliff.’ Is there a cliff in this mountain range shaped like an eagle?”
Everyone scanned the bluffs on either side of the gorge. There were jagged rock formations in all directions, but none that resembled an eagle. For an hour they hiked south along the gorge, keeping their eyes on the summits of the mountains. At over seven thousand feet, Addison’s group was huffing for breath from lack of oxygen.
Addison felt his thoughts wandering and sensed his exhaustion. His tired feet plodded along the uneven rock, each step an unpleasant jolt on his aching limbs. He wondered if they were even in the right part of Mongolia. He was beginning to have thoughts of giving up.
Eddie put his hands on his knees and bent double, gulping for breath. “This is hopeless! This mountain range goes on forever. We keep climbing and climbing, and I don’t see any cliff that looks like an eagle!”
Addison tried to think of something positive to say, but found he happened to agree with Eddie.
“We’ve just been guessing! We don’t even know if we’re within a hundred miles of an eagle cliff!” In frustration, Eddie picked up a rock and chucked it hard across the narrow gorge.
When it struck the opposite bluff, the entire face of the cliff erupted in motion. A hundred golden eagles took flight, their mighty wings pounding the air. They circled overhead, shrieking, their seven-foot wingspans casting dark shadows that sped across the landscape. After a minute of eardrum-piercing squalls, the eagles gradually settled back into their ancient aeries along the cliff wall.
“Eagle cliff,” said Raj, dumbfounded.
“Sometimes,” said Eddie, “I am happy to be wrong.”
• • • • • •
The team hiked along the rim of the chasm, searching for a place to cross. The eagles seemed to roost only upon the south-facing side, where they enjoyed the most sunlight. At last Raj, scampering ahead, found a spot where the gorge narrowed. A single spur of stone jutted most of the way across the precipice.
The gap was a six-foot jump. One by one they took running starts and leapt over the thousand-foot drop. Raj insisted on going first, followed by Molly. The Darkhad went next, making the jump seem effortless. Addison and Eddie, dreading a fatal plunge, went last.
Soon they were all clinging to the lip of the eagle cliff. They edged along the promontories, using cracks and handholds to maneuver their way higher. The eagles regarded them suspiciously from their perches. Addison had gotten a bit better about his fear of heights, but he still had a healthy interest in not dying. All in all, climbing up the precipice was not among the brighter spots of his day.
Raj navigated his way up the steep rock until he reached the level plateau. He shouted instructions, encouragement, and suggestive criticisms to the team until they all crested the cliff and lay flopped beside him, catching their breath. A flat field spread out before them, bursting with wildflowers.
The team lunched on the remains of Nobody’s mutton jerky. They crossed the field and found a river where they refilled their canteens. “This may be the route Sir Frederick took,” said Addison, examining the lay of the land. “He said to cross the eagle cliff and swim beneath a river.”
He had barely finished his sentence before Raj tore his shirt off and plunged into the frigid mountain stream. Despite his shivering, Raj swam back and forth across the river, dipping his head under the clear water. “I don’t get it,” he called at last. “I’m swimming beneath the river and I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for.”
Raj climbed out of the water, dripping wet, and lay down on a sunny rock to dry.
“Wow, you’re finally clean!” said Molly.
Raj frowned, a bit disappointed. He preferred not to attract wolves with his freshly clean scent. He wondered if his prized can of bear spray would also work on wolves.
Addison paced in a circle, quieting his mind, working over the puzzle of the river. He thought back on everything he had read about the Khan’s burial. He pictured the funeral procession: Genghis Khan’s body draped in white robes and bundled with sandalwood to prevent insects from devouring the remains. Addison spoke his thoughts aloud because that had often helped him in the past. “Legends claim the tomb was hidden by ten thousand horsemen who trampled the earth to make it even. Then a river was diverted and a forest planted over it, burying the site forever.”
“Do you believe it?” asked Molly.
Addison stared at the river, thinking. It was a young river, nowhere near as old as the one that carved the thousand-foot gorge in the mountain. In fact, thought Addison, judging from the shallow banks, the river might be only a few hundred years old. He arrived at a decision and headed upstream. “Genghis Khan moved heaven and earth to hide his tomb. We have to move heaven and earth to find it.”
“What are we doing?” asked Raj, jogging after him.
“Diverting the river. If the Mongols moved it here, we need to move it somewhere else. It’s the only way we can truly see what Sir Frederick saw beneath the river.” Addison did what he always did when he needed to
cause a large amount of destruction. He turned to Raj.
“I’m on it!” Raj eagerly scrambled up the hillside until he found a massive boulder overlooking the river. His plan was to shove it loose and send it rolling downhill to block the waterway. Raj nearly gave himself a hernia pushing on the giant rock, but it did not budge.
Frustrated, Raj found a large stick, levered it under the rock, and heaved. The stick snapped.
Losing patience, Raj climbed higher up the hillside, searching for a bigger stick. In his haste, he tripped over some creeping vines and landed hard on some loose shale. The shale rocks skittered downhill, kicking loose a few large rocks. Soon, boulders tumbled downhill, pushing even larger rocks ahead of them.
Addison’s team looked up in horror to see a full-scale avalanche thundering straight toward them. They turned and ran.
An entire hillside worth of stone and dirt crashed into the river, blocking it entirely. The river water backed up, overfilled its banks, and found a new course down the mountainside. Addison marveled at Raj’s astonishing capacity for destruction; even Mother Nature was no match for him. “Good work, Raj!”
Raj emerged from the woods, weaving unsteadily, blanketed in dust. He gave Addison a weak thumbs-up.
• • • • • •
I Don’t Know performed a ritual to appease the nagas, or water spirits, for disturbing the river. The group fanned out along the drained riverbed, searching for any symbol or clue left among the debris. The wet earth was soggy, muddy, and clogged with leaves.
Nobody searched for a spot deep enough to fill his canteen. Climbing down among rocks once hidden deep underwater, he shouted for Addison’s team to come look. When they all gathered near him, he pointed.
In the smooth, stony side of the riverbed lay a tunnel carved in the wet rock, large enough for a man to walk through. Centuries of water were still dribbling out of it when the group stepped inside the cave.
Addison’s flashlight emitted a weak orange glow as the batteries ran down. Moving quickly, they followed the path deep into the mountain. As the flashlight began to sputter out completely, the group reached a steep chute, dimly lit by gray light. It was the only way out.
For a few minutes, no one could figure out how to climb the steep chute. The rock walls were too slippery, and the bottom of the vault was riddled with sharp stones that would filet any climber who chanced to fall.
“I know the answer!” Raj pointed to a crack leading directly up the rock face. “In mountain climbing, this is called a fist crack. You wedge your flat hand in the crack, like shaking hands. Once your hand is in the crack, you clench it into a fist. It anchors you to the rock and you climb straight up.” Raj demonstrated the technique, spidering up and down the slick stone with ease.
Addison didn’t love getting his hands dirty, but he didn’t love being trapped in underground tunnels, either. When he slid his hand into the limestone fissure and flexed his fist, he found he could get a strong grip on the rock. Hand over hand, the team hauled themselves up the chute until at last they saw daylight. “Raj, I love it when your survival tricks actually work.”
“Me too,” said Raj, breathing fresh air. “Me too.”
The group emerged in a secret valley, completely encircled by towering cliffs. Addison realized they had found the only passage into this hidden world. His pulse quickened when he gazed out at the field before him, covered in stone monuments. “A necropolis!”
“Wow,” said Molly, taking in the view. “Wait, what’s a necropolis?”
Addison tightened the strap on his messenger bag and scanned the barren ruins. “It means ‘city of the dead.’”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The City of the Dead
RAJ SCAMPERED UP THE bowl of the rocks and scouted the mountain below. A thousand feet down, he spotted tiny dots of people hiking up the mountain path. Their group was led by a woman dressed all in black. “Madame Feng. And the triads! They’re coming.”
The team joined Raj on the rocky ledge.
“How did they find us?” asked Eddie.
Addison frowned. “Maybe they forced Aunt D and Uncle N to cooperate.”
Molly shook her head. “Maybe they heard Raj’s avalanche and got curious.”
Addison turned to Nobody. “Summon the Darkhad. This is Sir Frederick’s ‘city of the dead.’ This must be where the triads are coming.”
Nobody seemed thrilled to have the chance to use his two-way radio. He clicked it on, spoke excitedly in Mongolian, and gave Addison a nod.
“How long before the Darkhad arrive?”
“It is too steep for horseback. It could be hours.”
“We need Dax for an extraction. See if your Mongol network can get him a message. They can reach him by phone at this tavern.” He handed Nobody the business card for the Muddy Duck.
“Let’s hope he’s still in Mongolia,” said Molly.
“He better be.” Addison brushed dirt from his hands. “We’re going after the golden whip.” Addison watched Madame Feng’s progress far below on the mountain. “How long before the triads catch up to us?”
“Not long,” said I Don’t Know.
• • • • • •
The group climbed down off the lip of the crater and entered the city of the dead. Hundreds of white granite tombs filled the hidden hollow between the peaks of the sacred mountain. They crept under an archway built entirely of horse skeletons and down the center avenue, their feet crunching on gravel. They passed carved stone monuments to the great conquerors, Ögedei and Kublai Khan, their victories carved in relief on the base of the statues. They saw the tombs of Genghis’s top men, Jebe and Subutai, two of the greatest generals in history. They wandered under the shadows of massive bone piles dedicated to the sky god and the steppe god.
“Why did the Mongols bury everyone aboveground?” Molly whispered.
“It’s our tradition. We call it ‘sky burial,’” said I Don’t Know. “The older Mongols still practice it in the steppe.”
The avenue led to a large stone door carved into the mountain. Addison had a pretty good feeling they needed to find a way inside. In front of the door sat a flat disk of rock, like the world’s largest dinner plate, and in the middle of the plate was a pile of stones.
“A puzzle!” said Raj.
Eddie blanched. “Nobody touch it! It’s probably booby-trapped!”
Addison studied the flat disk. “It’s an ovoo. The Khan wouldn’t want anyone visiting his tomb who wasn’t a Mongol.” He stepped close to the stone plate. “We have to walk around it three times clockwise.”
Everyone circled the disk three times. It was decent exercise, but exactly nothing happened. Addison stood and frowned at the stone disk, but that didn’t do anything, either. Then inspiration snuck up behind him and smacked him on the head. “We rotate the rock—not us!”
Addison grabbed an edge of the stone disk and pulled in a clockwise direction. He strained hard while everyone watched quizzically. Raj shrugged and joined in. Finally, with Eddie and Nobody’s help, the heavy stone budged and began turning on an axle.
Everyone joined in, rotating the massive disk. They wound it three times clockwise and heard a loud, mechanical click, but nothing else seemed to happen.
“What are we forgetting?” asked Addison.
“You must place a stone on top of the rock pile,” Nobody said.
Eddie spotted a conveniently located heap of rocks piled next to the ovoo. He fetched one and ran to drop it on the cairn of stones in the center of the plate.
“Wait!” Addison grabbed Eddie’s wrist. “Remember the ceremony: it must be a white stone.” They sorted through the gray and black heap of rocks and found only one white stone, the size of a baseball. Addison hefted it in his hand—it was heavier than the other rocks. He figured that was important.
Nobody had the longest arms
—he placed the white stone on top of the cairn of rocks on the plate. It slid cleanly into place, pressing some ancient, hidden lever.
A loud grinding of stone sent Eddie racing for cover. Addison’s team looked up to see the large stone door creaking open in the sheer rock wall before them. The doorway was large enough for a man on horseback to gallop through. The group crossed inside the mountain.
They found themselves in a circular room with a high, vaulted ceiling. Enough light slanted through the doorway that Addison did not have to rely on his flashlight. In the center of the stone room sat a single white rock atop a pedestal. Doors were carved into the rock around the perimeter of the room, and beside each door stood an empty pedestal.
“Another puzzle.” Raj glanced up at the stone carvings on the domed ceiling, searching for clues among the warriors and battles depicted in bas-relief.
Eddie wrung his hands. “We don’t have time for all these puzzles. If we solve them, all we’re doing is making Madame Feng’s life easier when she arrives.”
“We just need to work more quickly.” Addison scanned the room, getting the lay of the land. “The entrance faces south. This room is a ger.” He crossed to the center and spread out his arms like the pointers on a compass. “The west is the male side, the east is the female side, and the north is the shrine.”
He moved to the rear wall and examined the shrine hollowed into the side of the mountain. It contained a few clay icons of horses, the paint faded and chipped. Designs carved into the wall were so worn by time, they were nearly indecipherable.
“What are we supposed to do at a shrine?” Molly asked I Don’t Know.
“Pray, I guess.”
The team knelt down before the shrine. This maneuver had done wonders in Kashgar and Karakoram, so Addison didn’t think they were wasting their time. Still, they prayed for a minute and nothing much seemed to be happening.
Addison Cooke and the Tomb of the Khan Page 26