“No. Her supervisor called her back to the site. I can send someone for her.”
“Aye, I need to speak with her.”
“I’ll send Gordon to fetch her.”
“All right.” He handed the phone back to Struthers.
“You saved my life today,” he said. “You and the others, but mostly you.”
“You’ve done the same for me, Quinn.”
“Aye.” Quinn smiled. “I’m glad ‘twas you who was with me, since you had a debt to repay.”
Struthers grinned. “We’re even until next time.”
“Let’s both hope there isn’t one.”
The phone rang and Struthers reached for it. After only a moment he passed it to Quinn.
“How are you?“ The hesitancy in her tone had him smiling, for he had never seen Regan hesitant about anything.
“When I get out of the system—I think we need to talk.”
“All right.” The caution in her tone remained but she was relaxing. “How are you feeling?”
“Alive, warmer. There are some things I need to tell you, lass.”
“About?” she asked.
“About Bryce.”
“Coira’s baby?”
She knew about whom he was talking. She hadn’t mentioned the bairn’s name to him. Jesus. It was really happening. They were really sharing dreams.
“Quinn—” Her voice shook. So she too understood the implications.
“Don’t cry, lass.”
“It’s just—You believe me, don’t you?”
Coira’s words came back to him and he winced. Quinn rested the back of his injured hand against his forehead, then caught back an oath as pain shot through it.
“Does anyone else know about this?” he asked.
“No.”
“Good. Have a care for yourself until I get out. Don’t take any chances.”
“I won’t.”
“You could wander by tomorrow at teatime and check in with me, if you would. I’ll be decompressing to get out of the system.”
“All right—I will.”
“Very good. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Quinn handed the phone back to Struthers. The man returned in a second, a frown working its way across his face.
“You haven’t gotten that American lass in trouble, have you now?”
Quinn shook his head. “No. And I don’t intend to.”
Now if she’d just stay out of trouble on her own.
CHAPTER 23
Regan stood with Hannah at the mouth of the dock and watched as three men worked to hook the crane’s cable to the webbing still encasing the stone. Several steel cables girded the stone as well. The men stood back, and one raised a hand to wave to the operator. The bass rumble of the crane’s engines and the smell of diesel exhaust tainted the air. The steel cable tautened and vibrated as it took the full weight of the twenty-ton stone and raised it in the air. The lintel spun slowly as the crane lifted it above the cofferdam and swung it over the steel barrier.
“Someone seems in a hurry to get the stones back in place,” Stephen said from beside them.
“Yes, they do,” Regan agreed. “They’re going to have to have some grounding supports to hold them in place.”
“That’s what those drills are for, and the steel rods.” He pointed to the machinery lying on the bed of a truck. “They’ll drill holes into the base stones and insert the rods. Then drill coinciding holes and slide the post stone down on top of them.”
Regan frowned. “And the first time they’re struck by lightning, as they were before, the metal may cause the stone to crack, and it may destroy one of the pillars.”
“Surely they’ve thought of that,” Hannah said.
God, she hoped so. To risk damaging such an important archaeological find would be criminal. And if that happened, she might never discover her connection to this place and the people in her visions.
“We’d best get back to work,” Hannah said.
With a groan, Regan turned to accompany her up the hill and around to the scaffold. Their steps echoed on the wooden planking as they walked down to their work area.
Gordon Murdock and Cameron Mac Kennon, two of Quinn’s divers, lowered the ROV into the cleared opening of the chamber for the second time in two days. Ronald Mc Fie sat at a small table set upon the platform constructed out to the hole. Before him were a computer monitor, a control panel, and a keyboard.
Everyone had their own duty, and Regan’s was to clean the stones. But—it irked her that she wasn’t among those witnessing the video feed of Noggie’s sweep through the chamber. God, what she wouldn’t do to be over there watching the monitor. The wooden shelves would have crumbled to pulp. But since debris had covered the chamber, there might be other artifacts still viable.
Coira had said she kept her potions there. What kind of herbs and tinctures, poultices and tonics would they find? Would the containers still hold them, or would the water have diluted them and washed them away?
She had found the chamber. But had her trip out to the altar cost her the opportunity to see it? Her stomach sank at the thought, making her almost nauseous.
Regan turned her attention to cleaning the stone and fought the urge to look over her shoulder every few minutes. Quinn would be out of the SAT system tomorrow, and after he’d had his hand ex-rayed they’d have time to talk.
Her compulsion to be closer to him when they were together grew stronger each time they talked. His resemblance to Braden didn’t matter anymore. Quinn’s forceful personality, his intelligence, and his temper had pushed Braden’s image aside. Beneath his gruff exterior, he cared deeply about things. Would she be one of them? Or would he continue to keep his distance? And why did he do so? Something more held him back than just his confusion about Coira and her.
She scrubbed harder at a stubborn section of algae-stained stone. Since witnessing Nicodemus’s indifference to Quinn’s situation, something had happened she’d have never dreamed could. She’d lost some of her enthusiasm for working on the dig.
Hannah touched her shoulder. “Dr. Fraser is motioning for you.”
Regan turned to look toward the group clustered about the chamber. Dr. Fraser motioned for her. “Come join us, Miss Stanhope.”
Her heartbeat raced as she removed her gloves.
“I’ll rinse your work area,” Hannah offered.
“Thanks, Hannah.” Her breathing quickened. It was bound to be something minor. ”They’ve probably recovered the glove I lost and want to return it.”
“Maybe since you found the chamber, he’s decided to let you watch their progress.”
She flashed Hannah a look. “That’s doubtful. You didn’t see how angry he was with me for going out to the altar.”
As she strode down the scaffold to where the group stood, she studied the body language of the team. Had they discovered something unusual? The men’s attention focused on the monitors, but their expressions gave nothing away.
“What can I do for you, Dr. Fraser?” she asked as she reached him.
“Come look at the stairs and the structure of the chamber,” he invited.
Stunned, Regan stared at him a moment before moving toward the computer screen on the table.
“We’re about to bring Noggie up. We’ve videoed the entire chamber,” Gordon said.
“Already?” She focused on the computer screen as the video camera on the RV panned over the flight of fourteen or so stairs to the surface of the chamber. The water appeared cloudy and gray. The rough-hewn steps looked narrow and rough.
“We’ll replay the video so you can view a little more of the chamber as soon as the RV surfaces,” Dr. Fraser said.
Regan’s tongue seemed glued to the roof of her mouth.
“Tomorrow we’ll see how good your cave diving skills are.”
Her heartbeat raced. He was actually going to let her dive tomorrow. “Really?”
“Dr. Arturo,” he motioned to the man standing at t
he table, “has to study the tapes further as well, but the structure of the chamber appears to be stable. If he deems it safe, we’ll send you down tomorrow with one of the divers to take a few samples and measurements before we start draining the water from the chamber.”
Regan frowned. Once the pumps started, it would kick up the whole top layer of mud and they might lose a layer of pollen, seeds, herbs, and whatever else was there. She’d have to take numerous samples in order to encourage them to wait, just in case.
“We’ve discovered a few artifacts.”
“Artifacts?” Regan asked.
“We have some pottery that actually looks to be in pretty good condition. But of course, we won’t know until we’ve brought it up. I’d like one sample so we can see what shape the rest may be in before we drain it and expose it to the air.”
She nodded.
“I thought since you discovered the chamber, I’d allow you the honor of breaching it first, ahead of the rest of us.”
Regan caught her breath, and grinned as excitement leaped through her. “Thank you, sir,” she breathed.
Dr. Fraser smiled.
“After the place is drained, I’ve asked Dr. Malone to move you to that location to work.”
Would she still have time to decipher the Ogham on the stones? And what would she discover about Coira and Braden inside the chamber?
“Is there a problem?” Dr. Fraser asked.
“No, sir. Not at all. I was just concerned about leaving my workmates behind.”
“Perhaps we can arrange a rotation for them. You have all done a fine job on the monoliths but I thought your time would be better spent either joining the dig out here” He gestured to the area of the site where a grid had been set up around two of the monoliths. “or below, inside the chamber, once we’ve established the structure is truly safe.”
“I’m sure they’ll all be thrilled.” To wallow in the mud establishing a grid. She bit back a laugh, part amusement, part excitement. “Thank you, Dr. Fraser. I appreciate this opportunity.”
“Come sit at the table and have a look at what we’ve discovered.”
Gordon Murdock and Ronald Mc Fie exited their seats to allow her to look at the computer screen. The two moved to lift Noggie from the water with a basket attached to a pulley and swing him onto a metal cart.
Regan focused on the video the RV had shot. The narrow stone stairs had an eerie quality as they disappeared into the darkness beyond the RV’s lights. The camera panned from side to side taking in the low-slung passage. The roof came into sight. It too appeared to be stone.
“Is it a cave?”
“Partly. One side of the chamber seems to be constructed of stones held together by some kind of mortar.” He pointed at the section the camera had picked up. “So it may be there to section off the chamber, or a wall created to strengthen the side not made of natural stone. We won’t know until you get a first-hand view of it and document it.”
“I’ll take some pictures first thing before the silt gets kicked up.”
“That’s what we were hoping. But should it appear unstable, you must keep your distance. We’ve looked it over thoroughly with the RV, but the camera can’t capture as much detail as we’d like.”
Regan nodded. “If possible, I’d like a copy of the video to study before going down tomorrow.”
“You and Dr. Arturo will be going down together. Though he’s seen it all from the platform, ‘twill be wise for you both to look it over together to plot a strategy for the dive.”
Regan nodded. She sat down at the monitor. The gray-brown color of a stone wall passed slowly before the screen. The surface appeared smooth, as though naturally formed, not carved, as were the stairs. The unexpected appearance of a trout swimming by had her looking up.
“’Twould seem we left some fish behind inside the chamber when we pumped the water away,” Dr. Fraser said. “I’m surprised they’re still alive.” He turned aside to say something to one of the men loading the RV onto a wheeled cart.
Regan returned to the video. Debris came into view. A pulpy mush filled the screen. Wood? She leaned forward and studied the deteriorated substance more closely. Something shiny poked from beneath it.
What was that? She froze the image to study it further. Using the zoom capabilities of the software, she homed in on the object. It looked like volcanic glass beneath a thin layer of sand colored slime. Beside it, the lip of a clay pot protruded.
Dr. Fraser stopped behind her. He leaned forward to look at the object. “What do you think it might be, Regan?”
“I don’t know. I’ll try and find out what it is tomorrow. It’s just before the constructed wall. It doesn’t appear to be clay.”
He nodded. “I don’t have to tell you to document as much as possible.”
She was silent for a moment, studying his features. Was he being pressured to rush things? The artifacts hidden beneath a layer of silt, artifacts that had remained preserved beneath the water for years, would disintegrate in a matter of days. “I’ll do my best.”
*****
Quinn paced the length of the decompression chamber. Never before had he had a problem with claustrophobia. Though the walls of the pot seemed to close in on him, he refused to acknowledge that he was having one now. He focused instead on controlling the tightness in his chest and slowing the heavy beat of his heart. A cold sweat beaded his forehead. Why was this happening?
He strode to the COM phone on the wall and picked it up. “How much longer, Logan?” His tone sounded abrupt, his breathing heavy.
“Two hours at least.”
He hung up the phone with more force than necessary. “God damn it.” He threw himself into the bunk and rested his wrist over his eyes. His hand throbbed dully despite the pain medication he’d taken, the heavy beat of his heart keeping time with it.
He opened his eyes to darkness. He jerked startled. The bed beneath him felt spongy and damp. The sound of water trickled close by. Had the lights gone off? Had the flushing mechanism on the toilet malfunctioned?
He started to sit up and bumped his head on something solid and swore. A woman’s voice whispering in Gaelic collided with his. He stilled, going silent. His mind registered that he was alone within the pot and the only communication was the COM phone, yet the sound of her voice was real. Her dull murmurings sounded hollow contained within the bunk compartment as though the walls had closed in around him and she was lying right beside him. A labored, syrupy breathing, not his own, filled the space.
Quinn’s pulse thundered and the hairs on his arms rose. He reached out to touch the mattress next to him with his hurt hand. Bone chilling air touched his skin. The cadence of the voice changed and her words became clear.
“With my blood open the way for strength,
With my body open the way to peace,
With my blood open the way to unity,
With my body protect my people from the harm he would do them, now and forever more.”
The abrupt change from darkness to light, from the stuffy feeling of entombment to having air circulating around him, had him blinking and drawing in a deep breath. Sunlight cast a small spotlight on the floor through the porthole positioned at the front of the pot. His muscles, tense with reaction, quivered as he sat up on the edge of the bunk. With a hand that shook, he rubbed the side of his face. Had he fallen asleep? He didn’t feel groggy from slumber, but fully alert. Did one go from sleep to wakefulness without any transition from one to the other?
The chant she had whispered went through his head. What had she meant by with her body and her blood? “Jesus.” Realization punched through him. She sacrificed herself to protect her people. Sacrificed herself— “Regan.” His stomach clenched. Every time he’d had a vision it had worked as a kind of warning concerning her.
Quinn found himself on his feet without having any recollection of rising. He went to the porthole and looked toward the cofferdam.
CHAPTER 24
Regan
looked down at the water-filled opening to the underground chamber. Quinn wouldn’t like this. But would he expect her to tell Dr. Fraser no and pass up the opportunity to dive? She’d only be in three or four meters of water. She was careful, competent. Nothing would happen.
Guilt cramped her stomach. She should have told him. She’d wanted to tell him. But he’d been in pain with his hand and anxious to get out of the pot. He’d have argued with her about it.
She thrust aside her worry and guilt with an effort and focused on the excitement thrumming along her nerve endings like the hum of a tuning fork. She was going to be the first to breach the chamber! Had the water been deeper, they’d have been required to dive it hardhat instead of scuba, and she wouldn’t have had the opportunity.
“Since we aren’t going to put in lines along the walls to follow, we’ll have to use the walls themselves as guides to get around once the water gets hazy,” Dr. Arturo said. His lilting Italian accent was pleasing to the ear, but the intensity he projected had Regan looking up. “Remember we’re just checking out the walls this trip, and taking a few samples.”
Regan drew a deep breath. She found Dr. Arturo’s insistent repetitiveness—suspicious. She glanced first at Dr. Fraser, then in Henry’s direction. A niggling hurt nipped at her. Had one of them said something to Dr. Arturo about her work? She looked up into the professor’s wide square-jawed face. “I don’t take unnecessary risks, Doctor. We’ve been over and over the plan. I won’t deviate from it.”
His frown cleared, and he offered her a brief smile. “Good.
“Since we’ll be giving the constructed wall a good look over, I’ll wait until we’ve finished taking our samples there before I try to locate the artifact Dr. Fraser’s interested in.”
“Good. That is wise.” He pulled the hood of his dry suit up over his abundance of curly, dark hair and gave a nod. “We are ready.”
Wasting no time, Regan pulled her full-face mask into place. She’d been plagued with the idea that at the last moment she’d be pulled from the dive and replaced by someone with more seniority and more experience.
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