“I live for babes,” Bones called over his shoulder. “Treasure hunting is just a hobby.”
The entrance to the mine was a rough tunnel, the floor worn smooth, descending into the earth in a tight spiral. Several times they had to grab the sides of the passageway to keep from sliding down.
“How did they ever haul treasure up this slope?” Bones asked. “Slave labor, I guess.”
“I’m sure they used slaves, but I doubt they brought it up this way. There’s probably another way out. This is just the path laid out for future seekers.”
“They didn’t exactly roll out the red carpet for us,” Bones said, ducking beneath a low spot in the ceiling. “Just a bunch of dirty, slippery rocks.”
“Look in front of you.” Isla aimed her flashlight straight down the tunnel.
Up ahead, the passageway leveled out and split into two. Each was guarded by a statue. The figure on the left was an ancient warrior sharpening a curved sword with a whetstone. The figure on the right was also a soldier, but this one held a pair of crossed swords.
“Which way do we go?” Isla asked.
Maddock considered the choices. He and Bones had seen things like this before. Safe passage through required a correct interpretation of subtle clues.
There was only one significant difference between the two figures that he could see — one held a whetstone in his left hand while the other held a sword. He tried to think of any connection with Solomon. And then it hit him.
“It’s the passageway on the right.”
“How can you be certain?” Isla eyed the statues doubtfully as if they might spring to life at any moment.
“One of Solomon’s most famous proverbs. ‘As iron sharpens iron so a friend sharpens a friend.’”
“That’s flimsy, Maddock,” Bones said.
“Got a better idea?”
The big Cherokee considered, then shook his head. “Nope, but I’m not going first this time.”
“Fair enough.” Keeping an eye on the statue, Maddock walked past it and into the tunnel. When he’d gone twenty paces he turned and called for the others to follow.
The passageway doubled back on itself and they soon came to another divide. There were no statues here. Only a carving of a horse above the left-hand passage, and a herd of stallions above the right.
“I got this one,” Bones said immediately.
Isla frowned. “You’re joking.”
“The three sins of Solomon,” he said.
Maddock scratched his chin. “Never heard of them.”
“I grew up in the Bible Belt, where everybody’s obsessed with sin and hell. Believe me, I heard all about it.”
“Are you planning on filling us in?” Isla asked.
“The Bible says a king should not multiply horses, wives, or gold. Solomon did all three.”
“So, the one horse, then?” She looked over at the passage on the left.
“I guess it’s my turn to go first.” Grinning, Bones passed beneath the horse carving. “Unfortunately for you two, I made it. Come on.”
The next divide followed the same theme, with a statue of a single woman on one side, and a group of scantily clad figures on the other.
“I don’t understand,” Isla said, as they reached another, this one with a single coin engraved on one side and a pile of gold on the other. “Solomon was quite the sinner. He enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh, amassed women and material wealth. Why would he create this memorial to his wrongs?”
“Maybe he repented,” Maddock said. “Wanted whoever followed him to be better.”
“Perhaps.” They chose the proper tunnel, rounded a corner, and stopped.
Isla’s eyes were wide as saucers.
“I don’t believe it.”
Nomi paused in front of the pair of statues. They were quite similar, save for the fact that one held two swords while the other held a sword and a whetstone. Otherwise, neither passageway was marked.
“Which way?” Cleo asked.
“I don’t know.” She scanned the ground to see if Maddock and the others had left any tracks. Nothing but solid stone.
Ronald let out an impatient grunt. “I’ll take one; you take the other.” He gave Cleo a shove toward the passageway on the right while he entered the one on the left.
“Ronald…” she began. Before she could continue, the ceiling above him collapsed.
Ronald staggered back, blood streaming from a gash in his forehead. “What in the hell?” he groaned.
“Booby trap,” she said. “We must proceed with caution.”
“Brilliant deduction,” he grunted.
Nomi ignored him. She took time to bandage his wound before they proceeded.
Hand resting on her pistol, she shone her flashlight back and forth, suddenly alert for more dangers than those posed by their quarry.
“It’s magnificent,” Isla gasped.
Maddock could not disagree. They stood on a wide ledge. A deep chasm lay before them, the opposite wall filled with mine shafts like a honeycomb. Everywhere they shone their lights, veins of gold sparkled beneath the beams.
Far below, Maddock could just make out ancient mining tools: pickaxes, shovels, and carts. Here and there, mounds of dross stood interspersed with smaller piles of ore.
“Gold everywhere,” Bones said.
“I can’t imagine how much wealth is contained here,” Isla said. “Look at all those mining tunnels.”
“How do we get down?” Bones asked.
Maddock turned to inspect their surroundings. He whistled when he saw what lay behind them.
“Guys, check this out.”
A crescent moon-shaped cut had been scooped out from the bedrock behind them. A series of ornate columns divided the space into eleven galleries. In ten of them, Bronze Age weapons stood propped against the wall — spears and swords. At the foot of each lay a pile of bones.
“It’s like they set guards here,” Isla said, “and they stood here until they died and rotted away.”
Maddock thought that was exactly what it looked like. Bits of armor and scraps of rough fabric lay amongst the bones.
“Do we want to hazard a guess as to who they were guarding?” Flanked by Bones and Isla, Maddock approached the gallery in the center.
The back of this gallery was adorned with Solomon’s Seal, the star rendered in gold and aquamarine jewels set in the wall. But it was what lay beneath the seal that drew his interest.
Their flashlight beams shone on a marble coffin adorned with cherubim and seraphim. Inscribed on the lid were the Hebrew letters SLMN.
“Solomon,” Isla breathed.
Maddock gazed at the coffin, soaking in the knowledge that he was looking at the final resting place of the famed Hebrew king. Something, he realized, didn’t add up.
“Isla, why does the Sisterhood want the mines?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“There’s a ton of gold here; I get that. But the Sisterhood already has money. And it’s not like this place is filled with treasure they could just scoop up and carry away. It would have to be mined, which would involve expense and complications. It doesn’t make sense to me.”
Isla took a deep breath and let it out in a rush.
“I think the answer might lie inside the coffin.”
“Sweet. I’ve been wanting to take a look,” Bones said.
He and Maddock worked the heavy lid free and carefully slid it to the floor. Isla shone her flashlight into the coffin.
The mummified remains of King Solomon lay before them. Hollow eye sockets stared back at them, his teeth drawn back in a haunting rictus. Bits of dried flesh were stretched out over a skull adorned by a headdress of gold and jewels. A golden breastplate, also jewel-encrusted, lay across his chest.
“That would buy a lot of beer,” Bones said.