Throughout the debate, Anya remained completely indifferent, and when a veiled woman beckoned her and Nora, she followed along without complaint. When the two women were shown to a small room where sleeping mats, pillows and blankets had been laid out, Anya promptly set her bag down in a corner, curled up on the nearest mat, and to all appearances, went right to sleep.
Dodge would have been suspicious, and kept an eye on her as long as he was physically able. Nora, however, had no cause for such vigilance.
Through eyes open only a sliver, Anya watched as the brunette studied her with a look of consternation, before shaking her head and reclining on the other mat. As soon as Nora turned down the oil lamp, Anya’s eyes opened wide, but she remained perfectly still, listening intently as her roommate tossed and turned, and then eventually became settled and began breathing rhythmically, faintly snoring. Anya lay that way for nearly two hours, observing Nora’s slumber in the almost total darkness.
Then, as quietly as a shadow, she got up, shouldered her bag, and stole out of the room. She crept through the house and found the exit door, opening it just wide enough to slip outside into the chilly mountain air.
In a matter of a few minutes, she reached the north end of the village, where she paused long enough to take a flashlight from her bag. The lens was covered with a piece of red glass, and while it offered little real illumination, it was enough for her to make her way toward the looming rock. She used the light sparingly, shining it on the path ahead only long enough to identify possible tripping hazards and then turning it off and advancing several steps in darkness before repeating the process.
Then, as she neared the cliff face, she spied a matching light floating in the darkness directly ahead. She flashed her own light toward it, flicking it on and off rapidly, until the signal was returned.
“Anya?”
The voice reached out to her through the darkness, and her heart leapt for joy. “I am here, my love.”
Although the figure was only a silhouette, limned in red light, she recognized him instantly, and hastened forward into his warm embrace. Their lips found each other’s and for a few moments they did nothing but kiss passionately. Finally, still holding her tight, he shifted in order to whisper in her ear: “I didn’t know if you would be here.”
“Nothing could keep me away from you.”
“Tell me. What has happened?”
Anya had surreptitiously made radio contact with her lover before returning to the secret valley to find Dodge, but from that moment forward, there had been no opportunity to send him a detailed report of her activities. He had promised to look for her as soon as the airship arrived at Alamut, but neither of them had imagined that she would find a way to make the meeting. With Dodge’s unwitting help, she had managed to do the impossible.
She briefly related the details of her journey, and told him of Dodge’s plan to explore a secret entrance in the morning. Her lover was pleased by this news. “I will return to Majestic. You stay with Dalton. With two different groups searching, the chances of success are doubled.”
Anya felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of having to leave him again. “And what if he finds the map first?”
“All the better. Dalton can blaze the trail and locate the prize.” His voice rose in a blaze of intensity as he spoke of their shared goal. “Go now, before they discover you are missing.”
She pulled him tight against her again. Part of her wanted to beg him to allow her to stay, but she knew his plan was for the best. As painful as it was to be apart from him, she knew that, when they were at long last victorious, nothing in the world would ever be able to stand in the way of their love.
Dodge awoke to the sound of someone singing. Or yelling. He couldn’t quite tell which, but the melodious unaccompanied voice insinuated into his dreams and brought him gradually to consciousness. The song went on for several minutes, with the foreign refrain becoming increasingly more complex. He finally sat up, and saw that Hurricane was already wide awake and ready for the day.
“Morning prayer,” the big man said, responding to the question that was evident in Dodge’s expression. “They pray five times a day, whenever the local holy man sounds off.”
“Well it beats cock-a-doodle-doo, but not by much.” Dodge rubbed his chin, feeling the stubble. Despite the breakneck pace of their travels, they had spent the last few nights in the relative luxury of hotels; the accommodations in rustic Qasirkhan were only slightly better than camping.
Nevertheless, after a quick breakfast of fresh fruit, bread and tea, the four travelers and their Iranian guide gathered near the coffee house, ready to begin their clandestine exploration of Alamut.
Dodge saw that they were not the only ones probing the secrets of the Rock. Two tiny shapes, barely visible against the azure backdrop, separated from the body of Barron’s massive airship and buzzed around like flies before finally settling to earth on the crest of the massif. Even though they were merely specks in the sky, Dodge knew that he was looking at the same Caviga autogyros he had seen in New York City a few days previously. It was yet another reminder of how close he was to Doc Newcombe, and how helpless he was to do anything to save his kidnapped friend.
Rahman arrived with Dariush a few minutes later, and the local man promptly gestured for them to follow him. Dodge was surprised when their course immediately veered away from the looming mountain, and toward the southern edge of the village.
Their destination looked at first glance like the ruins of a house; a knee-high wall of stacked river rocks forming a large square about thirty feet on each side. When they got closer though, Dodge saw that the wall surrounded a deep hole in the ground.
“This is the old cistern of Qasirkhan,” Rahman said, translating Dariush. “The villagers no longer use it. The wall was put up to prevent animals from falling in.”
Dariush stepped over the barrier and promptly descended the rough staircase that descended down into the dark pit. Dodge followed suit, switching on the flashlight that their local guide had advised him to bring.
The bottom of the old cistern was damp and musty smelling with seepage. Dodge noted a ragged opening in the earthen wall, almost completely blocked by another stack of river rocks. Dariush began removing stones until the opening was large enough to permit him to crawl through, which he promptly did.
Dodge went through next. He felt a rush of trepidation as he stuck his head and shoulders into the gap, shutting off what little light managed to reach down from above to illuminate the tunnel beyond. This wasn’t like the train tunnel in Pennsylvania; it was cramped, tomb-like, claustrophobic. He had the feeling that it might collapse at any time, sealing him forever in the earth’s embrace. He felt better once he was able to shine the flashlight into the passage, but not much. The rift had been carved out by time and the flow of water — forces which had little regard for structural integrity or efficient use of space.
As he dropped down into the tunnel, Dodge discovered another of its features that left him less than enthusiastic about the adventure: the floor of the passage was flooded with about six inches of water.
He heard a little groan behind him; Nora was experiencing the same apprehension he had felt. “Come on,” he said, managing to sound more confident than he felt. “It’s fine in here. Just watch your step.”
Anya and Rahman came through next, followed by Hurley, who had to clear away more of the barricade in order to squeeze through. Of the group, the big man grumbled the loudest, and for good reason; based on what Dodge could see of the passage, it was going to be a tight fit for his old friend.