And no way to stop it…
CHAPTER FORTY FIVE
Hayden led Kinimaka and Smyth deeper below the mountain. If Dantanion had spread the rumors of mad brothers and wandering flesh-eaters to deter the curious then he had done a decent job. Despite their caution and constant vigilance, they saw and heard nothing. They followed a trail marked by wall torches down and down, largely ignoring them when Smyth broke out some excellent flashlights that shone as far as the eye could see. Maybe the blinding lights kept the cave-dwellers away. A wide cavern with enormous stalactites was traversed and two skeletons found, clothes rotting off the bodies. Hayden marked their spot, but knew it was impossible to tell who they were right now. They pressed deeper. A sprinkling of cave dust occasionally revealed footprints, mostly shoes but also some rather unnervingly showing bare feet.
The passage rarely branched off and when it did the adjoining passages were narrow and impassable. When they found the entrance, it appeared entirely unremarkable. Just another rock wall with a narrow, ragged archway and then a right turn into a larger cave. Without the intense flashlights they might even have missed it. Hayden saw the gold glittering as the light picked out its keen edges, pure golden liquid pouring across the floor.
“Oh, wait,” she said. “I think… I think we found something.”
They crowded around the cave entrance, dumbstruck. The hollow stretched a long way into the rock, ran high and widened. The cave was crammed full with treasure, enough to take the breath away. Hayden struggled to take it all in, simply staring at the reflected glow.
Vases full of golden flowers, engraved masks studded with rubies and emeralds, bracelets and necklaces and sparkling anklets; daggers, short swords and headdresses; animals fashioned out of pure gold and silver; plates and bowls adorned with rubies — all comprised just a portion of what was the most incredible vision she’d ever laid eyes on. If she stared at the shimmering wealth any longer she feared it would blind or corrupt her forever.
And the centerpiece crowned it all.
A four-tiered fountain, formed from pure gold, shining like burnished sunlight on the brightest day the world had ever known, stood at the center of the cave, the lesser treasures arrayed around it. Gleaming with it, and its myriad reflections, they complimented it but stood back in awe, stunned and reverent. It took Hayden over a minute just to take it in.
“All this to ransom one man?” Kinimaka found his voice. “Gold and silver mined from the Andes mountains and then returned to them.”
Hayden looked speculative. “And I remember reading that this wasn’t the best of it. Something about the Royal Fifth.” Seeing Mano’s blank look she went on. “Twenty percent of all loot taken was reserved for the King of Spain. The ‘Quinto Real’ or Royal Fifth. Pizarro trusted only his brother, Hernando, to take the treasures they’d already stolen straight to Spain. Most were melted down, but just a few of the most exquisite pieces were left intact and displayed for a while before they too, were melted down. Such a terrible cultural loss for the world.”
Kinimaka still hadn’t turned away from the incredible golden vista. “The Incas must really have loved their king.”
Hayden nursed her finger. “And how much would you ransom for Drake? For Dahl? For me?”
The Hawaiian smiled. “I dunno. All of El Dorado?”
“Ha. Would you believe that the myth of El Dorado was inspired by this very Inca treasure that stands before us now? Europeans heard of the riches and came running, hoping to join expeditions and get rich. Tales of a king who covered himself in gold and a city whose walls were built of gold quickly spread, but many died in the steamy, disease-ridden jungles, sun-blistered plains and ice-covered mountains without seeing a single nugget. El Dorado was a shiny illusion, driven by factual stories of a genuinely glorious Inca treasure. So how much would you give?”
An insipid sensation wormed through her mind, almost as if the darkness were reaching out, trying to touch her. She ignored it, concentrating on the gold and remembering how the deeper shadows always seemed to hide the worst demons.
Kinimaka was looking at her. “How much would I give? Everything, I guess.”
“The Spanish captain, Pizarro, lost all this because he couldn’t keep it in its sheath. An old lesson, never learned.”
Something touched her hair as gently as mist. The wind? She reached back to brush it off, imagining a spider, and her fingers touched rough, bare knuckles.
“Ahh!”
It launched from off the wall, where it had been crouching in an alcove; raw, twisted arms worming a way around her neck, teeth already drooling into her face and gnashing, spraying less than an inch away from her skin. She fell back, hit the floor hard, and cracked her skull. Smyth was skipping away as if a rat pack were slipping between his legs. Mano was trying to catch up. Hayden brought her hands up fast, repulsed as she touched bare skin and dirt and sticky sweat. Her flashlight bounced to the right, aiming back down the tunnel. The teeth closed in and she pushed her head back as far as she could, straining her neck into a bow, using every ounce of strength just to keep the teeth at bay.
No way did she possess the power to throw this being off.
And now, behind them in the flare of the flashlight, she saw something else detaching itself from the ceiling above their heads, sliding down a dank piece of rope like an arachnid might slide down a web, arms and legs splayed.
“Jesus!” cried Smyth, seeing it too. “Flesh-eaters! Look lively.”
Hayden planted her elbows into the ground, barely managing to keep the hissing, plunging creature away. By the waving, strobing light of three battery-powered flashlights she watched Smyth and Kinimaka engage the second attacker, meeting a lunge head on and batting the head aside. A snarl crawled up the tunnel and up her spine. The thing atop her kicked at her shins and thighs with bony legs. It gritted its teeth so hard its gums began to bleed, dripping right onto her face. She wrenched her head aside, felt fangs on her cheek, thrust back with all her might. The body bore down. Her muscles shook.
Kinimaka whirled in the darkness, missing his attacker completely. Teeth latched on to his shoulder, a blow to the ribs made him scream. Smyth was right there, tearing the body away and dashing it against the wall. A crunch didn’t stop it or slow it down one bit. Kinimaka turned, breathing hard and it was back upon him, forcing him down; taut, scrawny sinew pulsing with power. Whatever Dantanion had made and cast out down here used their limbs every day — perhaps he fed them still.
Hayden tried to roll, but her assailant just thrust down again and again with savage strength and she knew her time was almost up.
“Help!”
Kinimaka jerked up at the cry, just in time to unknowingly smash his head right up under his own attacker’s jaw. Shocked and surprised, the creature fell away. Smyth launched himself atop it. Kinimaka also looked amazed, then lunged toward Hayden, scrambling in the dirt and the dust and the filth, crossing flashlight beams, his face clearly aware of nothing else but Hayden’s peril — terrified, driven, suffering.
Hayden let it all go and stopped holding the man off. His own force sent him face first into her shoulder, momentarily surprising him. Then Hayden felt teeth tearing at her jacket, skeletal fingers digging into the spaces between her ribs as if ready to pull her insides out. Maybe they were, but Kinimaka bowled into it then like a wrecking ball striking a wooden hut. The impact was huge, the outcome devastating. Bones shattered and the figure stilled; whatever it had been was now a lifeless shell, a mockery of humanity. Hayden looked up to see Smyth climbing off the other flesh-eater, bleeding but nodding grimly.