As he wandered round the perimeter, large oval sunflowers and huge bulbous artichoke-like blooms reminded him of South Africa's proteus flower. He saw dog-like creatures in the undergrowth and odd insects, all recognizable from the Voynich. He imagined Orlando Falcon lying in his cell, mentally retracing the steps he himself was now taking, drawing their likenesses in his manuscript. What struck Ross most, though, was not how different everything was from the outside world but how similar. Even though the plants and creatures in this basin had evolved independently of anything outside, it appeared that evolution had arrived at similar solutions: petals, seeds, leaves, eyes, legs. He hadn't yet seen anything completely alien. Especially when he considered the creatures and plants he had discovered on his journey through the Amazon.
He looked back to the mound of stones where Sister Chantal had slept but she wasn't there. A moment later he spotted her standing by the stream at the far end of the lake, near the entrance to the forbidden caves.
Sister Chantal looked different. She wore sandals and a white blouse over a white skirt, and she had undone her hair so it fell below her shoulders. The early-morning light lent her an ethereal air and she seemed younger, stronger. Her wrinkles hadn't disappeared and her hair was still streaked with grey, but the contusion on her head and the surface wounds from the jaguar attack had gone. Also, the weariness had left her eyes and her translucent skin glowed. A small bag was slung over her left shoulder. As he approached, she took his hand. 'Your wrist's better.'
He clenched his fist. 'It's fine. That's what I want to ask you about. And about Lauren.'
'Come,' she said. 'Let me explain a few things.' She pointed to the stream and the lake. 'As you've discovered, the water and any produce from the plants in the garden will not only rebalance and refresh the body, but heal any ailments.'
He thought of Lauren's broken neck. 'Heal anything?'
'Most things, it would appear.' She touched her face and smiled sadly. 'The one thing it can't do is make us younger. It can slow, even halt, the ageing process, but not reverse it.'
'Can it cure Lauren?'
'Of course. That's why I brought you here.' She spoke with such confidence that Ross had to blink back tears.
'So what do I do? Take her a bottle of the lake water or some fruit?'
She shook her head. 'I tried that once but when the water or plants are taken from the garden they lose their power. No living thing here can survive outside. The fruit rots and the water goes stagnant. I don't know why. It's as though everything has become so dependent on this place that it must die immediately it leaves. But creatures like us, who have evolved to survive outside its orbit, are revitalized here. However, we can only gain the benefits by drinking the water or eating the produce in the garden.'
'So I have to bring Lauren here?'
She smiled. 'No. There's another way.' She pointed behind her to the dark opening whence the stream came. 'Come, I'll show you.'
She took his hand and led him into the forbidden caves.
Chapter 52.
As Ross followed Sister Chantal along the stream to the forbidden caves trepidation must have shown on his face.
'The antechamber's harmless,' she said. 'The forbidden, dangerous part lies beyond.'
The first thing he noticed was a faint smell: a musky, damp, mustard-seed aroma - like the aftermath of sex. The space was high and deep. The cave floor rose in steps as he entered, culminating in a high ledge, behind which an ascending tunnel disappeared into the heart of the surrounding rock. The stream that fed the lake flowed down the tunnel to a small waterfall, which dropped from the ledge, forming two pools, then eddied into the garden. Inside the tunnel, alongside the rushing stream, there was a path wide enough for two men. When Ross looked closely he saw that it was made up of glittering crystals. In fact, the whole tunnel was encrusted with them.
He could see all this from the entrance because the interior of the antechamber was bathed in an ethereal glow, which emanated from deep within the tunnel, amplified by the crystals and the stream. The path emitted its own glittering phosphorescence, presenting an irresistible temptation to enter the tunnel and discover the source of the strange light. A potentially deadly temptation, Ross remembered, from a passage in Lauren's translation of the Voynich:
Though the conquistadors could not communicate directly with theEves, the scholar priest understood that it was forbidden to enter theircave. For many days they rested after their gruelling journey andenjoyed the beautiful garden. But soon, like all idle men, they grewcurious and greedy, wondering what could be in the cave. It must bevaluable, they reasoned. Gold.
The scholar priest counselled them to obey their hosts but the captainwas a proud man who obeyed only his king. That night theconquistadors ventured into the cave. They found the Eves bathing inpools, filled by water flowing from a vaulted tunnel in the raised backof the cave. As well as water, light issued from deep within the tunnelbathing everything in a golden glow. Alongside the rushing stream, apath climbed and twisted into the rock. It appeared to be encrusted withdiamonds, which sparkled in the light. Convinced that its source mustbe a vast treasure trove, the conquistadors were drawn to it like mothsto a flame.
When they approached, the Eves emitted a high-pitched wailing andblocked their path. The scholar priest begged the men not to enter. Butthey pushed him and the Eves aside and began their ascent. The scholarpriest watched each of them disappear into the tunnel and for manyminutes nothing happened.
Then the screaming started.
And the stream turned red with their blood.
Twenty-one men entered the tunnel, all the surviving members of theoriginal troop. Not one came down. Every conquistador died. Thescholar priest understood then that the Eves had not been protectingwhatever was in the tunnel from their greed but the conquistadors fromwhatever was in the tunnel. After witnessing the horrors of that night,he concluded that only man could turn Heaven into Hell.
The tunnel of blood also featured in the last pages of Falcon's notebook: the translation of the Voynich's astrological section that Lauren had not yet unravelled. According to this section, Falcon later went up the tunnel himself and discovered 'el origen' - the source, what Torino called the ' radix'. Ross took the damaged notebook from his backpack and studied the relevant pages, but apart from a typically cryptic reference to something called El Arbol de la Vida y de la Muerte, the Tree of Life and Death, they told him little. He pulled out his compass and watched the needle rotate furiously, then point up the tunnel.
'What's up there?' he asked.
'I don't know. Only Father Orlando lived to see el origen.'
'But in his notebook he doesn't explain what it is. Only that it's the power behind the garden, is incredibly beautiful and the path leading to it is dangerous.' Ross was burning to know more but something moved in his peripheral vision. He shifted his focus and saw that the glowing tunnel was not the only remarkable thing in the cave.
In the far recesses, white shapes moved in the shadows. He stepped closer and saw a creature staring back at him, a biped, about four feet high with translucent alabaster-white skin. It had two arms, a distended belly and two mounds on its chest, with no nipples. Its face was round with large, attractive eyes, a small nose and a wide mouth. On top of its head there was a cluster of strandlike growths, entwined with flowers. The creature seemed as fascinated by Ross as he was by it.
'Father Orlando was many things,' Sister Chantal said quietly, 'but, as you can see, he was no artist.'
It was one of the Voynich's nymphs - one of Orlando Falcon's Eves - though it looked nothing like Ross had expected. He had heard of sailors mistaking manatees for mermaids, and this, perhaps, explained why Orlando Falcon had depicted the creature as a female human.
Similar creatures were emerging from the shadows now, but his eyes were drawn to writhing, serpentine growths on the ceiling and walls at the back of the cave. The tubular tentacle structures appeared to grow from the rock like thick
vines. Grotesquely beautiful, with veins that throbbed like blood vessels, they seemed a strange blend of plant and animal. The tentacles ended in variously shaped pods. Ross glimpsed some nymphs reclining in them while others straddled the vines. They seemed to have a strange symbiotic relationship with each other.
'What are they?' he asked. 'Those tubular growths?'
'Like the Eves, they've been here since Father Orlando discovered the garden. They run through much of the cave.' She retrieved a torch from her bag, switched it on and led him towards the far recesses of the antechamber. The space was even deeper than it appeared from the entrance and led to a warren of other caves and tunnels deep within the rock. As they approached, the nymphs either melted into the tunnels or hissed threateningly. Sister Chantal held up her crucifix and began to hum a two-note refrain. Immediately the nymphs became less agitated and copied the sound. When she stopped they appeared calmer, accepting their presence. She left the crucifix hanging outside her blouse. 'It reassures them,' she said.
In the beam of Sister Chantal's torch the tubular tentacles seemed to be everywhere, like ducting in the basement of a large building. He followed a number of thicker ones down a passage to the right where the air felt warmer until he saw a fiery red glow ahead.
'Careful, Ross.'
Suddenly he was hit by a wall of heat, and stopped where the tunnel ended in an abrupt ledge. Magma boiled many feet below. A thin, broken rock bridge led across it to more dark caves.
'In Father Orlando's time that bridge was wider and unbroken,' said Sister Chantal. 'He claimed it was another way out of the garden, that it led to the other side of the ridge that surrounds this place.'
You'd have to be pretty desperate to take that exit, thought Ross. It made the poisonous caves through which they had come seem like a walk in the park.
Sister Chantal turned. 'Let's go back to the antechamber. I want to show you something really impressive.'
When they reached it five nymphs were bathing in the pool directly beneath the small waterfall. Wherever he looked, he saw pages of the Voynich come alive.
Sister Chantal led him on to the ledge towards the tunnel and bent down by the stream. She put her cupped hand into the rushing water, as if it was a gold prospector's pan, then brought it out and displayed it to Ross. 'This is what we've come for. This is what can cure Lauren.'
Chapter 53.
Her hand was full of small, luminous, crystalline rock particles, larger than the microscopic ones in the water he had drunk from the lake but smaller than the shards he had seen last night. She moved her hand and the crystals sparkled many colours. 'These are the only things I allow myself to take out of the garden, but these crystals are too small. Any power they have will dissipate once we leave. They need to be of a certain size to retain their potency. You can grind them down when you're outside but the crystal's got to be big enough to start with.'
'Where can I get a large enough one? From the bottom of the lake?'
'No. Those are smaller than they look. Something to do with the magnifying effect of all that water.' She reached into the stream again and picked up a large shard, which had broken off from the lattice of crystal encrusting the tunnel. She handed it to him.
He looked at it, mesmerized. It was beautiful, part opaque, part clear, and glowed as he turned it in his hand. He imagined he could feel its power. 'You're sure this will cure Lauren?'
She hesitated for the briefest moment, glanced up the tunnel, then said, 'Yes. So long as you keep it whole until you need to use it, it should retain much of its potency.'
'I'd love to analyse it.'
She smiled guiltily. 'Though my main concern is to fulfil my vow, a few years ago I had a sample analysed blind by a lab in Geneva. I was desperate to be relieved of my responsibility. I wanted them to synthesize it, take the pressure off the garden - and off me.'
'What did they find?'
'The laboratory report claimed it was unusually, but not dangerously, radioactive and contained every key amino acid building block necessary for life - including phosphorus, which was relatively rare. But they found nothing else unusual, certainly no hint of its ability to heal. They replicated it exactly, creating an identical clone of its constituent ingredients, but it had none of the original's power. Whatever spark makes the combined constituent parts heal in the way you've all experienced is beyond their instruments.' She pointed at the crystal in Ross's hand. 'But that should work. Take it home, grind up a good quantity, mix it into a drink and feed it to Lauren. I like it in tea with condensed milk.' She smiled. 'But I have a sweet tooth.'
'You've used this stuff?'
She clutched her crucifix. 'It's been my lifeline. How do you think I've maintained my vigil for so long? So very long.'
Now, looking into her eyes, unguarded for the first time since they'd met, he saw her pain and loneliness laid bare. Suddenly he understood the depth of her dedication to the garden, and the extent of her sacrifice. A tremor ran through him. 'There haven't been any other Keepers before you, have there?' he said.
'No. Only me. I was the novice nun who cared for Orlando Falcon. I was the accomplice who hid his Devil's book. It was I he charged with reclaiming his possessions, including his notebook, and protecting his garden.'
'But why?'
'Why?'
'Why did you help him? Why did you make your vow?'
'Because I fell in love with him. I loved him more than the Church. I loved him more than life.' A small shake of the head. 'I loved him more than the release of death. When he made me vow to protect his garden until someone deciphered his manuscript and proved themselves worthy to take over his legacy, I had no idea how long I would have to wait.' She patted the crucifix. 'He gave me this cross and told me that whenever my burden seemed too great I would always find salvation in it.' She paused, as if lost in thought. 'Before they burnt him at the stake he also made a vow to me.'
'What was it?'
'That he would wait for me.' A small smile played on her lips.
'He said, "For you I will wait for ever." ' She pointed out to the garden, to the mound of stones. 'His remains are buried there. I brought his ashes from Rome. One day, soon, I hope, our waiting will be over and we will be reunited.'
'You were there when he died?'
She looked away. 'I watched.'
He studied her once beautiful face. 'You've lived for more than four and a half centuries?'
'I've existed for that long, yes. It hasn't always felt like living.'
'But that's impossible!' he gasped.
She laughed. It was a humourless sound. 'Feel your healed wrist. Look at the crystal in your hand. Then tell me it's impossible.'
'But how did you live? How did you support yourself for so long?'
'Father Orlando came from a wealthy Castilian family. When he died he left me a sizeable amount, which kept me going for some years. Then I stumbled on the lost city and its gold, some of which I invested - over a long period of time. Money is the least of my worries.'
He remembered that some of the gold ingots in the ziggurat had been missing. 'But what about the authorities, your passport, your identity?'
'Remaining a nun has helped. Sister Chantal is a given official name. My Catholic order bestowed it on me when I was seventeen. I chose to keep it and over the long years it's now become who I am. But throughout my life I've had numerous legal identities - all borrowed from children I treated in hospices. When they died, their names lived on in me. I've held various passports, French, Italian, British - but not yet American.' A smile. 'Your country's still young - only half as old as I am.'
He remembered the six dates scratched on El Halo, each about seventy years apart. 'You returned here at regular intervals, to refresh yourself and replenish your supplies, before assuming another identity, another life, in a different part of the world.'
She nodded. 'I aged so slowly that I had to keep moving to avoid drawing attention to myself. So far, I think I've already live
d six life spans, six three score years and ten. As well as checking on the garden, I returned here to replenish my supplies of the crystal so I could continue my vigil. As I said, the crystals slow my ageing but they can't reverse it. I sometimes wonder if I'd stayed here the whole time whether I would have stopped ageing and stayed for ever young. But I needed to be in the world to do my duty and fulfil my vow. I had to keep track of Father Orlando's manuscript - as it travelled across Europe, returned to Italy and finally ended up in America - to discover if anyone had deciphered it. And, for my own sanity, I had to do good in the real world.'
She patted Ross's arm. 'Anyway, I'm now in my seventh lifespan. The last, I hope. I've done all I can. You have the means to cure your wife. Once you've done so, I can pass on my burden to her. My vow will have been fulfilled. We both have what we wanted. We should leave tomorrow.'
'Tomorrow?'
She tapped the crystal in Ross's hand. 'We need to get this to your wife as soon as possible.'
'You're sure it'll cure her?'
Again she hesitated and looked back at the glowing tunnel. 'I'm as sure as I can be. Over the years, apart from two recent exceptions, I've only used its powers to slow my ageing and restore my health, but I'm confident it will cure your wife. The last few granules I gave her had an effect.'
'It was negligible.'
She frowned. 'Have faith, Ross. This crystal will be enough.' She pointed to the tunnel. 'The only way to guarantee a cure would be to take a sample of the source itself, which Father Orlando believed had limitless power. But getting to it is impossible.'
'Father Orlando went up and survived.'
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