Maddock tested the first stepping stone and found it was solid. He tensed slightly as he put his full weight on it, and relaxed when it held. “I don’t know if it’ll support your fat butt,” he said to Bones, “but I’m good to go.”
“Screw you, Maddock.”
Maddock almost felt like he was dreaming as he moved through the mist across the motionless lake.
“I bet this is what Heaven is like,” Bones said in an uncharacteristically soft voice.
“You’ll never find out.”
“That’s cool. Better parties in hell, anyway.”
At the center of the lake, they stepped onto solid stone. It didn't take long to discover that what Bones had believed to be an island was, in fact, a giant stone disc.
"I told you, dude," Bones said. "Aliens."
"Aztecs, more like. See?"
Symbols and other imagery covered the rock beneath their feet. Though he didn't know the meanings of most of them, the patterns and motifs were familiar. "It looks like a giant Aztec Calendar Stone.”
“You’re right.” Bones dropped to one knee to get a closer look. “Doesn’t mean aliens didn’t help them, though.”
“True. Let’s keep going.”
They moved deeper into the mist and soon the dark form toward which they’d been moving began to take shape. They soon found themselves at the foot of a miniature pyramid. At the top stood a small temple, surmounted by a sculpture of the feathered serpent head of Quetzalcoatl. That sealed it. The site was definitely Aztec.
They climbed the dozen stairs to the top, where, just inside the temple door, a tight spiral staircase descended into the darkness. They clicked on their mini Maglites and headed down. Time seemed to slow down as they wound deeper into the heart of the mountain, Bones grumbling all the while about the low ceiling and tight quarters.
Finally, they emerged in a large chamber. Maddock halted at the entrance and ran the beam of his light across the floor, looking for potential booby traps, but saw nothing. He took a few cautious steps inside and waited for Bones to join him.
“Interesting,” Bones observed, shining his light all around.
The room was round with a low ceiling. Spaced equally were the mouths of seven caves. At the center stood a waist-high pedestal.
“There’s an Aztec legend,” Bones began, “about a place called Chicomoztoc, or ‘The Place of the Seven Caves.’ From here, seven tribes, for lack of a better term, came together and settled at Aztlan, the ancestral home of the Aztecs.”
“So if this is Chicomoztoc, then you think Aztlan is somewhere around here?” Maddock asked.
“The Aztecs called Aztlan ‘The land to the North’, and this is well north of Mexico. It was reputed to be an island within a lake.” Bones scratched his chin. “And the word itself means ‘the place of whiteness.’ Think about it: the island within a lake, the white mist, the connection to the caves. I think the island up above us is Aztlan.”
Maddock frowned. “But Aztlan is supposed to be the Aztecs’ ancestral home. An entire nation couldn’t live up there. It’s just a single mountaintop.”
“You know how legends work. They get passed down from generation-to-generation and it changes a little at a time until it’s an entirely different story with only a few recognizable details remaining. Maybe Aztlan was the place the Aztecs emerged from, I don’t know, under the earth.”
Only a few years earlier Maddock would have scoffed at this, but such a story no longer seemed far-fetched. “Let’s check out the caves.”
They began by exploring the first cave to their left and quickly discovered that it plunged downward at a steep angle, going on and on with no end in sight. A cursory inspection of the other caves produced similar results.
“This isn’t a two-man job,” Maddock concluded. “It would take a team, maybe several teams, of researchers to explore this place, depending on how far down the caves go.” He turned and shined his light on the pedestal at the center of the main chamber. “Let’s check this out.”
At first glance, the pedestal was merely a simple cylinder, but closer inspection revealed a detail that had gone unnoticed. At the top, set in the center of the cylinder, was a turquoise disc.
No more than a hand’s length across, it was engraved with several symbols. Around the outside ran what looked like a seven-lobed clover. Inside that lay a ring of five suns. Finally, at the center, two figures faced one another. Only a few minor details kept them from being mirror images of one another. The images meant nothing to Maddock, but Bones gasped when his light fell on them.
“Holy crap, Maddock. I know what this is!”
Maddock was not surprised that Bones had some knowledge of Aztec lore. His friend had a keen interest in myths, legends, and ancient prophecies, and the Aztecs were strongly associated with the end of days, and also with aliens, another of Bones’ favorite subjects.
“This,” he said, hovering a finger over the cloverlike outline, “represent the seven caves. The sunbursts represent the five suns of creation. And they,” he pointed at the figures in the center, are Ometecuhtli and his female partner, Omecíhuatl, the highest of the Aztec deities.” He looked at Maddock. “This is the Duality Stone.”
“What does that mean?”
“I can’t say for sure. Only the craziest conspiracy theorist believes it exists.” He broke out into a broad grin. “Tell me again what nutbags those guys are.”
“You know what they say about a blind squirrel,” Maddock said. “But in this case, I tip my cap to you and your eccentric friends.”
Bones stood for several moments in silent contemplation. “I think we should tell Isaiah about this place. After all, he’s the one who tipped me off about it, and he’s got the resources to study it properly.
“Agreed,” Maddock said. “This is one heck of a discovery.”
The sun was setting over the hills, painting the landscape in shades of orange, by the time they made it back to their vehicle. Both men were utterly spent, yet buoyed by their discovery, their spirits remained high. As they drove along the rutted dirt road back to civilization, Bones spied a small bar. It was a squat, adobe style building of faded brown, nearly the color of the surrounding earth. A faded sign, the paint peeling, proclaimed it the White Bear Pub.
“I don’t remember seeing that place on the way here,” Bones said. “It’s not often that a watering hole escapes my notice.”
“It was six in the morning. I hope you weren’t keeping an eye out for bars,” Maddock said.
Bones nodded thoughtfully. “That must be it. Let’s stop for a while.”
“We’ve got beer in the cooler.”
“Yeah, but this place has different beer. No reason we can’t drink both.”
Bones slowed and turned off the main road. He parked alongside the only other vehicle in the dirt lot— an aging sedan of unfamiliar make. As they mounted the single, rickety step up to the building, he glanced back at their rented SUV and frowned.
“I could have sworn we rented a CRV,” he said.
“I thought so too.” Maddock walked around the back of the vehicle to check the model name. “What the hell is a GAZelle?”
Bones shrugged. “Who knows? Must be a Hyundai or some crap like that. It got us here. That’s what matters.”
Inside, they found themselves the lone customers inside the dusty bar. Narrow beams of sunlight filtered in through dirty windows, shining on the ceramic tile floor, which was pitted and cracked in places, and setting the dust motes aglow. Maddock and Bones took seats at the bar where the local news was showing on an aging television set.
“Couldn’t spring for a flat screen?” Bones asked.
“Don’t worry about it.”
The bartender, a stout man of late middle years with lightly tanned skin, copious ear hair, and a bald head, greeted them enthusiastically.