Addison Cooke and the Treasure of the Incas

by Jonathan W. Stokes

  Raj nodded his approval. He searched the underbrush and armed himself with a heavy stick.

  Eddie stared into the impenetrable darkness of the cave. His voice caught in his throat. “We’re really going to do this?”

  Raj quoted the final clue, “‘Supay’s mouth is open wide to swallow up the brave.’”

  Addison took a breath and summoned his courage. “I guess we’re the brave.” And with that, he stepped into the darkness.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Hidden Cave

  ADDISON’S FLASHLIGHT PIERCED THE gloom. A low stone ceiling arched overhead. He crept stealthily down the corridor. Each footstep scuffing the stone floor echoed loudly in the silent cavern.

  Carved stone skulls adorned the walls, painted red and black with ochre and pitch. Addison’s flickering flashlight cast macabre shadows that capered and leered. In the play of the light, the skulls appeared to howl, laugh, or scream.

  The path wound deeper into the mountain, dank and musty with the centuries. The team climbed higher, feeling the elevation in the thinning air. The cave walls were painted with scenes of horrific Incan massacres. The Spanish conquest was recorded in gruesome detail; native people impaled on spears and stabbed with pikes.

  At last, they reached a stone crypt carved into the wall of the cave.

  “Whose grave is this?” whispered Molly.

  Eddie blew away a few centuries of dust and read the inscription on the tomb. He gasped. “El Mozo.”

  Addison removed his cap and the group stood for a moment in respectful silence.

  “How did he die?” asked Molly.

  “Pizarro’s men caught up with him in a town called Cusco, not far from here,” said Addison. “They defeated his army and executed El Mozo in the city square, along with two hundred of his followers.”

  “The Incas must have buried him here to guard the tunnel,” said Eddie, his eyes wide in the darkness.

  Raj scanned the dusty footprints on the cavern floor. “Ragar’s men passed this way. They’re ahead of us, somewhere up this path.”

  “I don’t think El Mozo would want the professor’s men taking the treasure,” said Molly.

  “I don’t want the professor’s men taking the treasure, either,” Addison said. “Let’s keep moving.”

  The path wound past the time-gnarled bones of what looked to be a deer, perhaps dragged into the cave by a cougar many years past. Addison’s flashlight batteries decided to call it a day. The light faded to yellow, then orange, and then finally went kaput. The group was plunged into total darkness.

  “Now what?” said Molly.

  “Well, this—” began Addison.

  “Addison!” Molly interrupted. “If you say ‘this is a sticky wicket’ one more time, I swear—”

  “Okay, fine,” said Addison. “This is a tricky pickle.”

  Molly sighed. “Not much better.”

  “Don’t worry, guys, I’ve got this.” Raj used his Swiss Army knife to saw off one of his pant legs. This he tied around his stick, forming a torch. He attempted to light the pant leg with a match, but it didn’t catch. Instead, it was Raj’s stick that burst into flames, shot sparks, emitted a horrible stench, and promptly flamed out.

  “Hm,” said Raj.

  “It was a good thought, but your stick was too flammable.” Addison groped in the dark and grasped the leg bone of the dearly departed deer. “Let’s have another pant leg.”

  Raj sawed off his other trouser leg and Addison tied it around the femur. This Addison rubbed in the pitch of one of the stone skulls. He handed it to Raj. “Light her up.”

  Raj set match to torch, and the pitch burned as steadily as a living room lamp.

  “Onward and upward,” said Addison.

  The team continued deeper into the darkness, the cave walls seeming to press in on them. At one point, Addison thought he heard distant footsteps following far behind, but when he stopped to listen, the sound vanished. He decided it was the echo of the rocky tunnel.

  Eventually, the path narrowed so severely they were forced to walk single file. Addison stopped and beckoned for light. Raj held the torch high so its light reflected off the mica in the walls.

  Just ahead, a wooden bridge arched across a deep crevice in the rock. The chasm was dark and bottomless. The ancient timbers of the rickety bridge were splintered and rotten.

  “Do we trust it?” asked Eddie.

  “Ragar did,” said Raj.

  Addison considered the obstacle. “The Spanish knights would have weighed a lot in their armor. The Incans probably used this to their advantage.” He shifted the coil of vines from his right shoulder to his left and turned to the group. “We cross the bridge one at a time. That way there’s not too much weight on it all at once.”

  One by one, each stepped gingerly across, hardly daring to breathe. The wood planks creaked and groaned their complaint. At last the team was safely on the other side.

  “If Ragar gets the gold, how is he going to get it across this bridge?” asked Eddie.

  Addison took another look at the chasm below. “Very carefully.”

  The team continued, winding their way up the narrow tunnel. The granite walls were slippery and glistening with humidity. Before long, the chute widened into a large cavern.

  Raj froze, pointing to a vast mosaic of painted tiles carved into the stone floor. He raised his flickering torch to reveal the pattern. “A dragon!”

  “Pachamama, the mother of the world,” said Addison. “She’s an Incan goddess who takes the form of a dragon.” He admired the jagged teeth and the green, yellow, and purple scales of the wings. It was too dark for him to make a sketch. “Pachamama has a special power, but I can’t remember what it is.”

  “Can she breathe fire?” asked Raj. “Or make lightning?”

  “Invisibility?” asked Eddie.

  “I can’t remember.” Addison scratched his chin in thought. “I just remember it was dangerous.”

  Eddie took a step forward.

  Addison snapped his fingers together. “Wait—Eddie, don’t step on the mosaic!”

  “Why not?” Eddie asked, stepping onto the mosaic. His weight was already planted firmly on a stone tile when it sunk an inch into the ground. His heart sunk with it. He froze, realizing he had just triggered another booby trap.

  A deep rumbling from the cave walls shook the cavern. Eddie didn’t know what was coming, but he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to enjoy it.

  “I just remembered Pachamama’s power,” called Addison. “She causes earthquakes!”

  Eddie didn’t need time to mull things over. He turned and bolted.

  A massive boulder plummeted from the ceiling and crushed the tile where Eddie had been standing.

  Eddie sprung from tile to tile, bouncing like an Irish step-dancer. Wherever he leapt, boulders followed, raining from the ceiling.

  “Eddie, stop stepping on those tiles!” Addison yelled.

  Deadly boulders crashing around him, Eddie hopped in frantic circles like a frog in a frying pan. “Where do I step?” Eddie flapped his arms, as if willing himself to remain airborne.

  Addison threw down his bundle of climbing vines and sprinted for Eddie, grabbing him by the collar. Fists pumping and feet flying, he half led and half dragged Eddie across the cavern and dove into the opposite tunnel. The sound of crashing boulders ceased. For a minute, Addison and Eddie lay on the ground gasping for breath.

  “The Incas didn’t want conquistadors stealing the gold, so they built that rickety bridge,” said Addison, climbing to his feet and dusting off his jacket. “They wanted only devout Incans to find the treasure, so they built a trap for anyone who doesn’t know about Pachamama.”

  “I stepped on Pachamama and disrespected their god,” said Eddie. “Sorry I nearly got you killed.”

  �
��I should have spotted it sooner,” said Addison. “My aunt and uncle must have led Ragar’s men around the edge of the wall to avoid the trap. We’ll have to be more alert now.”

  Molly and Raj carefully inched their way around the perimeter of the mosaic and safely joined Addison and Eddie in the low tunnel.

  “I wonder what trap is coming next?” Raj said a little too eagerly.

  “I’m dying to find out,” Eddie said sarcastically.

  “Poor choice of words,” said Molly.

  Raj stepped to the front of the group. “I’ll take point position.”

  “Okay, everyone follow Raj like a line of ducklings,” Addison instructed the others. “And nobody touch anything!”

  Peering into the gloom with his torch, Raj carefully probed and tapped the surrounding rocks with his stick. Step by step, he carefully led the group along the passageway. At last, the narrow path opened up into a high-ceilinged chamber.

  A great chasm spread wide before them. The sheer drop descended into the darkness, its depth impossible to fathom.

  “It must go all the way to the heart of the mountain,” said Eddie in an awed whisper.

  “I have very little interest in finding out,” said Addison. He examined the path ahead and grimaced. The only way to cross the chasm was by hopping across scattered stalagmites that grew up like stepping-stones. The stone spikes were so massive, a person could balance on them if they were careful and not overly concerned with personal safety.

  “What are the Incas testing for here?” asked Molly. “Balance?”

  “Bravery,” said Raj. “Supay’s mouth opens wide to swallow up the brave.”

  “I’ll bet he swallows cowards, too,” said Molly.

  “Great,” said Eddie, staring into the bottomless chasm and shivering.

  Raj tossed a pebble into the crevasse. Everyone listened. If the pebble ever landed, nobody heard it.

  “Addison, are you going to be okay with this?” asked Molly.

  “Well, I can’t really see how high up we are in the darkness. So that helps.”

  Raj took the lead, followed by Molly, followed by Addison. Eddie brought up the rear.

  Addison hopped to the first stalagmite, and then the second. On the third, he almost lost his balance, overshooting his mark in the dim light of Raj’s torch. His feet scrambled for purchase, but he held on. He made it to the next stone spike, and then the next.

  It was on the sixth stalagmite that things went horribly awry.

  Addison took a powerful leap and stuck the landing, even in his slippery dress shoes. But the stone decided, after millions of years of just staying put, that it was time for a change. The ancient rock cracked and tipped forward like a falling tree. Addison felt his world plummeting.

  Addison’s rock smashed, domino-style, into Molly’s, which crumbled and crashed into Raj’s. For a few heartrending seconds, all three clung to their stalagmites, suspended in space, their feet dangling over the void.

  Somehow, Raj still clung to his torch. He wrapped his legs around the enormous stone spike and squeezed tight.

  Addison waited for his rock to collapse, sending him careening into the darkness. But for the time being, the great stone held. He dug his fingers into the crumbling rock and gripped it with all his strength. “Eddie, do something!”

  Eddie stood on his stepping-stone and gaped. Alone, his was the only rock that held strong. He watched his friends clinging for dear life. “Like what?”

  “My ropes!” cried Addison. “They’re still in the earthquake room!”

  “I can’t go back there! I’ll die!” yelled Eddie.

  “We’re dying right now!” Molly shouted.

  “She’s right,” gasped Addison, gulping down his fear. Already his hands were growing sweaty and his grip was loosening on the rock. “You’ve got to go, Eddie!”

  Eddie swallowed hard. “All right. But there better be a ton of gold in that treasure vault.”

  “There will be seven hundred and fifty tons! Just hurry!”

  Eddie turned and retraced his steps across the jagged stones. He sprinted back down the dark tunnel and reached the destruction of Pachamama’s chamber. Broken rocks lay scattered across the mosaic.

  Eddie tiptoed around the perimeter of the room, his back hugging the wall. In the dark, he tripped over a stone that clattered onto the booby-trapped tiles of the mosaic. Eddie held his breath, but the stone was not heavy enough to trigger the avalanche. He wiped sweat from his forehead and kept moving.

  At last, Eddie inched to the far end of the chamber and yanked Addison’s vines from under a fallen boulder. “Okay,” Eddie whispered to himself, staring back across the mosaic. “Now I just have to do this all over again.”

  • • •

  Addison clung to his fragile stone with the last of his strength. “How are you doing, Molly?”

  “My arms are cramping.”

  Addison felt his own grip weakening. “Raj, how about you? Can you hold on a little longer?”

  “This is fantastic.” Raj smiled, hugging his rock like a koala bear hugs a tree. “I never did anything like this in Manhattan.”

  Addison heard Eddie’s shoes skittering along the far chamber. “Eddie, hurry!” he shouted, his tired fingers trembling. “Molly can’t hold on any longer!”

  Eddie’s face appeared over the lip of the giant rock.

  “What took you so long?” Addison gasped.

  “I’m happy to see you, too.” Eddie anchored his vine rope around the stalagmite and tossed Addison the free end. “And for your information, I was very, very busy trying to not die.”

  Addison reached into the void and grabbed the vine rope.

  “Can you make it, Addison?” Molly called.

  “I think I can.” For a terrifying moment, he let go of his stone, the vine taking all his weight as he dangled in space. Somehow, the fear of heights no longer seemed to control him. He climbed his way on top of his rock, panting with the effort.

  “Faster, please,” said Molly.

  Eddie wrapped a length of vine around his waist. He belly-crawled along Addison’s stepping-stone. Together, they wriggled onto Molly’s boulder and dropped her a vine.

  “It’s about time,” she gasped, grabbing the rope.

  “You’re welcome,” said Eddie, quoting Guadalupe. He hauled Molly up. Eddie was still ghostly white, but he was no longer trembling.

  When they all reached Raj, he handed up his torch. “Wait,” Raj said, staring into the inky void below him, “I just want to enjoy this a moment longer.”

  “C’mon, we’re on a tight schedule.” Addison dropped Raj a vine.

  Together, they crossed the last stepping-stone and reached the far side of the chasm. Eddie bent double and took deep gasps of air.

  “Were you scared?” asked Molly.

  “Nope,” said Eddie. “I was terrified.”

  “Well,” Addison said, clapping Eddie on the shoulder, “you saved our lives.”

  Eddie straightened his back and stood a little bit taller. “Harika,” he said. And he meant it.

  The team ducked into the next tunnel and followed its snaking twists and turns deeper into the mountain. In the darkness, Addison lost all sense of time. Maybe a half hour passed, maybe an hour. There was nothing for it but to keep walking.

  “I hear voices,” said Molly at last, halting in her tracks.

  Addison listened and heard them, too.

  Raj doused the torch. The team crept forward through the darkness, shrouded in the gloom. Flickering lights loomed up ahead.

  The group carefully peered around a bend in the path. Before them, the tunnel opened into an enormous cavern. And there below, in the main chamber, stood Professor Ragar.

  • • •

  Addison and his team crawled to a safe vantage point,
a ledge overlooking the sprawling chamber carved into the rock. The massive cavern was supported by pillars etched with hieroglyphics. Flaming torches lined the walls. The entire structure spanned a chasm where a river ran directly through the mountain, bubbling and gurgling in the darkness hundreds of feet below.

  Professor Ragar, miraculously clean and resplendent in his white suit, gazed down the long stone corridor that led to the treasure vault. He was flanked by his men, who carried mining helmets and climbing gear. At their feet, bound in ropes, sat Aunt Delia and Uncle Nigel.

  When Molly spotted them, she nearly called their names out loud, but Addison silenced her with a finger pressed to his lips. Together, the team wriggled closer on their bellies to spy on Ragar.

  “Next,” Professor Ragar barked to his men.

  A short, pudgy bodyguard stepped up to Ragar nervously. The professor held out the three Incan keys: one of stone, one of silver, and one of solid gold. The man hesitated before finally choosing the stone key.

  “Good luck,” said Ragar.

  The guard nodded. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and inched timidly toward the treasure vault. He ducked through the gaping jaws of a massive stone skull, stepping carefully over its stone teeth. He crept down the limestone hallway, his furtive eyes darting left and right like a high-stakes gambler who’s just placed an astronomical bet at a Ping-Pong match.

  A stone step sunk beneath the man’s foot, triggering a booby trap. Iron spikes jutted from the wall. The fleet-footed bodyguard leapt and managed to dodge them. He was apparently faster than Ragar’s last bodyguard, who still hung impaled on the spikes like a shish kabob. The iron points retreated into the wall, dragging the corpse back into the shadows.

  Panting with adrenaline, the trembling bodyguard reached the end of the hallway and stared at the locked door of the enormous treasure vault. The great door was heavy limestone, two stories high, and covered with ropes of gnarled vines crosshatched with a fretwork of cobwebs.