"What they don’t know can’t hurt them,” said Addison. He scraped old leaves aside to reveal a wooden cellar door leading down to the cathedral’s basement. He tested the heavy doors with his dress shoe. “Raj, can you get these doors open?”
“Can I ever!” Raj’s eyes bulged with excitement. He threw open his backpack and began unpacking matches, fuses, bang snaps, sparklers, electrical tape, batteries, goggles, and at last, his prized possession—a lock-picking set.
“Never mind,” said Molly, trying the door handles. “It’s unlocked.”
“Ah,” Raj said, a little deflated.
Molly quietly hoisted open the rotting cellar doors. Addison drew a flashlight from his blazer pocket. The team followed the flashlight’s beam, descending into the darkness.
• • •
Together they crept through the musty cathedral basement. Addison listened to the sound of men’s voices upstairs and gestured the group for silence. He moved stealthily, the echoing stone walls amplifying his every footstep.
“Addison, what are we looking for?” whispered Eddie.
Addison closed his eyes and quoted the Incan key from memory. “‘In the seat of the Andes Mountains, by the Forgotten River, lie the bones of the underworld that guard the key to silver and gold.’”
Addison scanned the room with his flashlight and shouldered his backpack. “The clue says ‘the bones of the underworld.’ Lots of cathedrals have crypts—basement rooms filled with bones. We need to figure out if there’s a basement to this basement.”
“This is all just a hunch,” said Eddie skeptically.
“There’s a chance,” said Addison.
They tiptoed past rusted candelabras, clothing racks of faded priest robes, and antique incense burners of burnished copper. Parchment maps with burnt edges adorned the walls. Hundreds of dog-eared books lined dusty shelves.
Molly sneezed repeatedly. “It smells just like Uncle Nigel’s office.”
Raj opened a rotting oak door and discovered a spiral staircase, leading both up and down. “Which way?”
“Down,” Addison whispered, “to the underworld.” The steep stone steps coiled their way underground, into a deep cellar.
The team emerged in a dank hallway beneath the exposed foundation of the cathedral. Addison cast his flashlight about the sagging beams and cobwebbed stone pillars.
“Do you see anything that looks like a clue?” Molly whispered, peering into the gloom.
“I don’t know what we’re looking for, but I know we’ll know it when we see it.”
They reached the end of the cellar and stopped.
“It’s a dead end,” said Raj.
“I don’t see any crypt in here,” said Eddie. He peered about the dingy room, draped in cobwebs and shadow. “Maybe we should just leave?” he added hopefully.
Addison took a closer look at the stone cellar. On the far wall stood an oak cabinet, piled with dusty jars of pickled herbs and ancient bottles of wine. Addison rapped the sturdy oak with his knuckles. “This wood isn’t too old. It was built much later than the cathedral.” He turned to face the group. “It’s the one thing that doesn’t belong. We have to move this cabinet.”
Eddie groaned. “It’s gigantic.”
“We can see the other three walls of the cellar,” said Addison. “We have to make sure there’s nothing hidden here. On the count of three. One . . . two . . . three.”
They heaved against the cabinet with all their strength. One of the jars of pickled herbs wobbled a bit, but nothing else moved.
“Let’s get rid of these bottles.”
They stripped the shelves bare, moving the jars to the floor, careful to keep quiet. Eddie, miraculously, didn’t drop a single bottle.
“That should do it,” said Addison. “Take two.”
Again the team pushed with all their might. Slowly, they managed to scrape the wooden cabinet away from the foundation wall.
Addison swept his flashlight beam over the stone masonry but saw nothing to write home about. He sighed.
“Wait!” cried Raj. He wiped dust from the stone with his palms, revealing a large symbol faintly etched into the rock wall of the foundation. A life-size shield supported by two fire-breathing dragons.
“Diego de Almagro II’s coat of arms,” Addison gasped.
“It’s still a wall and not a crypt,” said Eddie.
Addison could not argue with Eddie’s astute observation. Still, he peered hard at the ancient symbols carved on the stone shield, “Something about the crest seems different . . .”
“There,” said Molly, pointing to the design at the center of the shield. “That part looks just like Atahualpa’s key.”
Raj let out a low whistle. This time, he managed to get a few notes.
“Good eye, Mo,” said Addison. He aimed the flashlight on the center of the crest. And there, inside a ram’s skull with twisted black horns, was a piece of stone carved in the shape of the Incan key.
“What does it mean?” asked Raj, his voice trembling with excitement. “Is it some kind of clue?”
Addison reached out a cautious hand and brushed cobwebs from the stone wall with his fingertips. If there was a puzzle to the design, he could not figure it out. Finally, unable to think of anything better, he pressed the stone key firmly with his thumb.
Dust shook from the wall. And with a low rumble, the entire shield swiveled inward, revealing a dark cavern.
“A secret door!” Eddie whispered.
“I’ve waited my whole life for a secret door,” said Raj, his eyes glowing.
Addison carefully studied the cobwebbed doorway under the glow of his flashlight. “What do you make of it, Raj?”
“I don’t think this door has been opened in a long time. If we’re on the right track, Ragar hasn’t been here yet.”
“Then we’re in the lead,” said Addison.
Molly peered into the dark tunnel. She could resist no longer. “Ladies first.” She grinned, and stepped inside.
• • •
Molly led the team down a long stone shaft carved through the limestone bedrock.
Addison played his flashlight over the walls. They were covered in painted murals, faded by time, depicting Incas and Spaniards locked in battle. “Look at these, Molly! At least five hundred years old! Aunt Delia would lose her mind if she saw these.”
“Aunt Delia would lose her mind if she knew we were down here,” Molly countered. “We’re not allowed south of 42nd Street.”
The tunnel was so cramped even Molly had to stoop. She waved the group forward.
“You’re lucky to be raised by archaeologists with exciting jobs,” Raj said. “My mom is just an anesthesiologist.”
“What’s that mean?” asked Molly.
“It means she literally puts people to sleep.”
The tunnel finally opened into a chamber where they could stand. As everyone gratefully stretched their backs, Addison panned the flashlight beam across the room.
One wall was dominated by a huge iron cross. Swords, pikes, and javelins were leaned against a rack. On the far side of the room were jail cells with corroded iron bars.
“A torture chamber!” Molly gasped.
“Awesome,” said Raj.
“They kept people in these cages?” Eddie asked.
“Most cathedrals had a tribunal like this,” said Addison. “The Spanish Inquisition killed people for not being Catholic. Often by burning them at the stake, like King Atahualpa. People would say they were Catholic to avoid being killed. So the Inquisition would torture them to find out who was telling the truth.”
“Aunt Delia used to tell us about the Inquisition whenever Addison said her punishments were too harsh,” Molly explained.
“Diego de Almagro was part Native Indian,” said Eddie. “Why would he w
ant to torture people?”
Addison shrugged and shook his head. “Maybe he tortured the torturers.”
“I don’t feel hungry anymore,” Eddie announced.
Raj crossed the narrow chamber, peering closely at the rough-hewn stone walls. “Looks like another dead end.”
“I still think we’re looking for a crypt. Everybody search for a trapdoor.” Addison shone his flashlight on the torture equipment, hunting for a concealed switch or a hidden panel. He eyed iron cudgels, spikes, sticks, and chains. Handcuffs and manacles anchored to the rock walls. A medieval rack for stretching people.
Raj, unable to resist, picked up a heavy sword and gave it a few swings. Molly found a rusty dagger and practiced a few stabs at the air.
Eddie searched the far wall of the chamber for any telltale cracks in the mortar. A bat flew out from a corner, and Eddie shrieked. The group jumped.
“Jeez, you scared me,” said Molly.
“You were scared,” said Eddie, clutching a hand to his chest.
Addison’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Where did that bat fly out from?”
“I don’t know,” said Eddie. “I didn’t ask.”
“Eddie, bats live in caves. If there is a secret tunnel, that bat will know all about it.” Addison stood stock-still. He licked his thumb and held it in the air. “Does anyone feel a draft? A current of air?”
Molly closed her eyes, concentrating. “Maybe. It’s hard to tell.”
“Raj, you wouldn’t happen to have a box of matches on you?”
“Safety matches, long-reach matches, or strike-anywhere matches?” asked Raj, producing three boxes from his backpack.
“This will do the trick,” said Addison, selecting a regular safety match and striking it on the edge of the box. He stared at the tiny blue flame and sure enough, the flicker betrayed a slight breeze in the underground chamber.
The group held its breath.
Addison followed the dancing flame to the far wall of the torture chamber, next to the iron cross. He held the burning match up to tiny fissures in the cracked stone masonry. The blue flame wiggled and leapt where fresh air hissed through. “This isn’t just a cross,” said Addison. “It’s a door handle.”
Addison tossed his flashlight to Molly and doused the match. He stepped up to the iron cross, gripped it with both hands, and tugged with all his strength. Nothing much happened. “Eddie, little help?”
Eddie added his grip to the cross, braced himself, and pulled.
There was a low grumble of scraping rock. A circular section of the wall swung open, revealing a hidden tunnel.
“Dibs,” said Raj. He climbed into the hole first, followed by Molly.
“What’s in there?” Addison called down the dark shaft.
After a few seconds, Raj’s breathless voice echoed back. “Skulls! Thousands of them!”
“I’m not going in there,” Eddie declared.
“You never know, you might like it,” said Addison.
Eddie fixed him with a steely glare.
“Won’t know unless you try.” Addison followed Raj and Molly inside.
Eddie, left alone in the dark torture chamber, weighed his options. He quickly scurried after Addison, leaving the door open behind him.
• • •
The team crawled a few feet through the passageway. The air was cold so deep underground. The tunnel opened into a large cavern, part of the natural caves worn into the limestone by the Olvidado River.
Molly handed Addison the flashlight. He held the beam high to fill the room. Addison brushed a comma of hair from his forehead and gasped. He marveled at the underground chamber.
Raj wasn’t kidding. The vault was crammed with skeletons—tens of thousands of them. Entire vats piled high with skulls. Towering pillars ringed with rib bones. Chambers decorated with spiraling patterns of leg bones. Intricate ceiling mosaics of finger and toe bones.
“What is this place?” Molly whispered.
“An ossuary,” said Addison. “An underground room decorated with bones. And you need to bone up on your vocabulary,” he added.
“What kind of person uses skeletons to decorate?”
“This is just how they buried people.” Addison removed his Ivy cap as a sign of respect for the dead. He took the lead, picking his way along the cavern. “Careful, everyone, this place is sacred.”
They followed a winding footpath marked with leg bones. The femurs were still attached to the tibias. Complete skeletons leered from stone alcoves, their ghastly teeth frozen in permanent grins that appeared to laugh in the flickering light.
“All these skeletons are short,” said Raj.
“They’re ancient Incas. You can tell from the jewelry.” Addison pointed to a turquoise bracelet wrapped around a skeleton’s ulna.
The team inched slowly along the path, keeping carefully within the glow of Addison’s flashlight.
Eddie, craning his neck to stare up at a rib bone chandelier, somehow contrived to catch his shoelace on a stray collarbone. He tripped headlong, landing in the arms of a cobweb-covered skeleton. Eddie screamed, tangling himself up with the dead body. “Help!”
“Careful, Eddie!” Addison hissed. “This is an archaeological site. Do you have any idea what these skeletons are worth to historians?”
But Eddie had already lost his balance again. He tumbled into the vat of skulls, the mummy on top of him. “Get it off me!”
The skull bin tilted, pulling an ancient trip wire, releasing a boulder. The falling stone yanked a rope through a pulley, sending a massive scythe blade whipping through the air.
“Look out!” Raj took a running start and leapt for Eddie, tackling him to the ground. The scythe sliced inches over their heads, the jagged blade imbedding itself in the soft limestone wall with a quivering thud.
“Eddie, what were you thinking?” asked Addison. “This is a sacred burial ground.”
“I thought that mummy was going to kill me.”
“He’s been dead for five hundred years,” said Addison. “He’s at a huge disadvantage.”
“I didn’t know this place was booby-trapped,” said Raj, delighted.
“Don’t move, you guys. Stay right where you are.” Addison aimed his flashlight up at the dark recesses of the cave ceiling. The narrow beam illuminated a fretwork of guy-ropes, barely visible in the shadows. “Each pile of bones is rigged to a trap. The Incas did not want anyone disturbing their remains.”
Raj was still lying on top of Eddie, whose face was squished into a dusty rib cage. They were fifteen feet off the path. “Well, what do we do?”
“You need to get back to the path, touching as few bones as possible.”
Raj helped Eddie back to his feet. “Let’s just run for it.”
“Are you sure that’s the best plan?”
Patience was not Raj’s strong suit. “Three . . . two . . .”
“Raj, let’s think this through, first!”
“. . . one!”
Raj sprinted and Eddie followed, their feet dancing across the piles of bones. A massive blade sprung from the ground, splitting every bone in its path. Raj and Eddie dove to either side of the blade’s deadly course. They rolled and scrambled back onto the stone trail. It was a close shave.
“I can’t believe we’re not dead yet,” marveled Eddie.
“The night’s still young,” said Raj. He dusted off Eddie’s back for him.
Sticking close together, the group crept slowly forward.
At the end of the burial chamber, they reached a narrow staircase. Addison took a careful look. The steps were paved with skulls. At the top landing was a small doorway carved into the cave wall. “Let’s climb up and see what’s inside.”
“Let’s not and say we did,” said Molly.
“There’s that can-do Cook
e spirit.”
“I’ll go first,” said Raj.
“Wait!” Addison stayed Raj with his hand. “We have to assume this is a trap. The Incas didn’t want us touching any bones, so why would they let us just fox-trot up a staircase of skulls?” Addison and Raj dropped to their knees and examined the steps under the glow of the flashlight.
“There,” said Raj, his eyes gleaming. “Some of these steps are the tops of skulls. And some are just polished limestone rocks.”
Addison smiled and turned to the group. “Everybody got that? Step only on the rocks, and we’ll live to tell the tale.”
The team gingerly climbed the skull staircase, carefully choosing their steps. At the top landing stood a doorway marked with a skull and crossbones—an actual skull with actual crossbones. Addison reached for the door handle.
“Let’s take a second,” said Raj. “We don’t know what’s waiting for us behind that door.”
“Nothing good, I’m guessing,” said Eddie.
“Well, we’ve come this far,” said Addison. “Everybody ready?”
Addison heaved open the final door. Everyone ducked.
A moment passed.
Addison was shocked by how little happened. The door simply stood there. An empty dark space gaping at them.
Eddie stood up from where he was crouching. “Well, I don’t know what I was so afraid of.” He strode confidently through the doorway and screamed as a hundred bats flew out of the cavern, screeching like wailing banshees. He covered his head from their flapping wings and clawing feet. The first hundred bats were immediately followed by several thousand more.
Addison ducked and waited for the storm to pass. It was hard to tell what was more terrifying: the bats’ high-pitched screeching or Eddie’s high-pitched screaming.
At last, the cloud of bats tapered off. Eddie slowly regained his breath. And then a few hundred more bats flew shrieking out of the cave for good measure.
Eddie sat down on the cold rock. “I liked the dead people better.” A big, slow bat loped out of the cave, squawked at him, and flapped down the tunnel. “I think that’s the last of them,” Eddie sighed.
Addison Cooke and the Treasure of the Incas Page 7