“Didn’t linger long enough,” he replied. “Kind of pressed for time back there. And…” He turned slowly and reached for her hand. “And I didn’t realize that touching you would…”
She frowned at him, then understood. “It works both ways? I can break through the shield?”
“I don’t even know if it’s that so much as you’re the same — as whatever caused it in the first place. Whoever caused it.”
“Except I don’t have the Sight.”
“Right, just one side of it.” He glanced back to the walls, to the mural displaying crowds going about life along the majestic bridges and in the harbors of the ancient city. Then he returned his attention to the statue of one of the Twin-Kings.
He shook his head. “Actually, not like them. They had both skills, so they probably didn’t even know of the blocking ability. It was something, maybe an evolutionary byproduct — protection from both present and future enemies. Like a subliminal set of weightless armor.”
“Okay, role-playing boy, I don’t really get it, but I get enough. Touch me and you can see what was normally blocked.”
He nodded, smiling as he caressed her fingers, taking satisfaction in even that innocent tangible connection. “That’s one of the benefits.”
She laughed. “Such a charmer. Okay, pick something to see, touch me… more, and find us a way out of here.”
He did, squeezing her hand tighter and bringing her close. Their lips found each other this time, and when he closed his eyes, the stale air took on the sudden fragrance of lavender, of orchids and incense. And he saw: This brightly-lit chamber, with mirrors sending dazzling beams in patterns of geometric beauty and lighting up the two statues flanking the bodies of their kings in ceremonial coffins — as they are lowered into alcoves below.
A priestess with golden-brown skin and long braided hair stands before a packed congregation of surprisingly jovial mourners. She wears a gown like a mermaid’s fin, and shuffles forward, removing a necklace from the one body, the one who must have been older by minutes, as he wore the larger crown. She takes the necklace with the familiar jade gem and holds it up. For a moment her eyes cloud green with the penetration of some kind of power into her mind…
“We should use this,” a dark-haired, dreadlock-maned muscular man whispers in her ear. He exudes the element of a warrior, or a general. “We can invade their minds. End the conflict with our enemies before they unleash the Doom we foresaw.”
She shakes her head solemnly and looks upon another section of the murals on the walclass="underline" the same city landscape, except now the sky is darkened, and flaming comets streak from the sky, and tidal waves are set to pound the embankment walls and the domed city teeters on the edge of a chasm as fire rages through the streets and bridges collapse.
“We cannot. That way invites complete annihilation.”
“Then let us invite it. And let us die as warriors.”
“It will let in the Others, and that cannot happen. We have sworn it to them.”
Then she drops the necklace into a platinum coffin held by a waiting servant.
With equal reverence, the servant then passes it to another, and then another — and a series of glimpses trail a montage back to the domed city beyond, still above water; and the box ascends the largest Pharos-like tower, to be placed beside the eternal fire, under mystical runes.
Back to the chamber, the coffins are lowered, the floor sealed over, and the statues moved into place over their bodies.
Moved effortlessly, floated as the mourners bow and weep.
Moved by another priestess, this one holding a staff almost twice her height, a staff that later fits…
He snapped out of it, squinting as Aria aimed the beam in his face.
“What?”
He blinked and let go of her hand — and the vision. Scanned the floor, seeing a broken section under the eastern statue, and he wondered if they could smash through and find the body.
What treasure might be down there? Or under this other one, if they could move its statue-tombstone?
Treasure, however, wasn’t his top priority. They had their way out. Or so he prayed.
“You have to ask yourself, why boulder up these tunnel entrances, and this one especially, with such a large boulder?”
“Because…” Aria snapped quickly, but then paused as the question’s true purpose sunk in. “Because… they could.”
Her eyes darted around, then settled on the staff in the kingly statue’s hand.
Alexander had been looking at it as well, and then met her eyes. “Yes. Need to try it.” He walked to it carefully, studying the walls, the pillar inscribed with the indecipherable script. Looking for dart holes, any traps.
Aria came up behind him. “Thinking if you grab it, the ceiling drops on us?”
He took a long breath. “Actually, I thought the floor would drop to waiting spikes. That would have been my guess, but…”
A flash as she contacts his shoulder, and a scattering of blue confetti in his mind gives way to an image of this room: much cleaner, dazzling in gold and platinum trim, and that tall, golden-skinned priestess with gems in her braided hair stands reverently before the statue, gently placing the staff in its grasp.
He blinked and was back, frowning, eying the statue’s hand, and seeing the fit of the staff. The angle, even after the tectonic shift, had lifted the base somewhat, making this easier.
“It slides out,” he said. “But I think it’s ok to take it.”
“No traps?”
“None that I saw.”
“Great. Snatch and grab,” Aria said, smiling, and moving toward the upper length as Alexander settled his hands on the lower grip, ready to slide it upward.
He was somewhat surprised that it didn’t cause an immediate reaction when he touched it. No hum, no vibration, no…
As soon as Aria touched it, however, it was a different story. He felt a jolt, a searing flare that sent his hand away, red. The staff slid out gracefully for her and seemed at ease in Aria’s hands. It almost scraped the ceiling as she balanced herself and spun it slowly in her fingers.
She smiled at him. “Seems to like me.”
“Makes sense,” he said, rubbing his hand on his wetsuit. “You must have the genetic DNA from this line of ancestry. The Blue Screen shield, it was an innate side-effect of their talents. So, this tool — whatever it is — works with their biological-psychic makeup. And now it’s working for you, at least so far.”
Aria shrugged. “I like it, and it feels cool.”
Just then, they heard muffled pops from somewhere close, and echoes of sloshing steps behind them, in the tunnel. Alexander gave a wistful look around the chamber, lamenting the knowledge and the stories the murals and the writing on the walls and pillars all cried out so desperately to tell. The entire lives locked up in story form here, stories the world had forgotten. In most scholarly venues, they had even denied the presence of such a grand civilization.
“We’ve got to go.” Alexander gently took her arm and led her toward the hallway, and the arch with the boulder and debris blocking their exit. He could taste the warmer air seeping through some cracks, and now could hear the popping sounds clearer: