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Without saying another word, they moved slowly forward and stepped through the ornately carved arch. They were met with a small fountain built into a natural recess in the cold rock-face. It was covered in the same ancient hieroglyphs that had led them to this place. It was so beautiful it looked like something from another world, but at the same time there was something simple about it.

“The glyphs are so intricate,” Lea said, her voice almost a whisper.

“But it looks sort of pre-historic,” Ryan said, leaning forward and pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“Whatever it looks like…” Lea said, “…we bloody well found it!”

The others directed the beams of their torches toward the fountain and illuminated it. In the vast space it looked almost insignificant.

Hawke was stunned. Water trickled from the top of the fountain which was shaped into the face of what looked like some kind of god, and shimmered in the torchlight, mesmerising him. So this is what it was all about.

“What is that stuff?” Lea said. Her words drifted into the half-light and once again the only sound was that of the water falling from the lower tier of the fountain and splashing on the circular marble reservoir that formed the base.

“It looks like it’s flecked with something — gold maybe, but it seems brighter somehow.”

Hawke studied the water and saw it had gold and silver sparkles within in it. At first it looked like it was simple regular water reflecting their flashlights but closer inspection showed that the sparkling was coming from within the water.

Ryan leaned in to touch it, but Hawke reached for his arm and stopped him.

“Wait! We don’t know what it really is or what it does yet, mate. Best off leaving it alone.”

“Agreed,” Ryan said. “But we should get a sample.”

Hawke frowned. “All right, go ahead — but be careful.”

He watched as Ryan leaned forward with a small vial and gently collected a sample of the water.

“We need to report this to Eden,” Lea said. “He’s going to want to know about this — believe me. He’s spent his life searching for this, and he deserves to know.”

“But only I am deserving of it!”

The voice was shrill and loud and came from the entrance to the chamber.

They spun around to see Maxim Vetrov and Kodiak standing a few yards from them, flanked on either side by several men, all aiming suppressed submachine guns at them.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The Athanatoi gathered in solemn silence and waited for the Oracle to speak. Athanatoi, as the great Oracle told all new initiates, was the Greek word for immortals, and was originally used to describe the elite military unit of the Byzantine Empire over a thousand years old. Today, they were a much smaller but far more dangerous elite — a secret society of men and women who had learned to harness the power of eternal life.

The Oracle knew the import of his decision today and chose to contemplate the matter for another few minutes as he stared out of the room’s vast window. Outside, the snows of late winter were still blowing, far away from the steamy tropics of Africa where the fight for their precious secret was currently being played out.

He turned to the man beside him and spoke. His words were ice-cold and echoed in the silent space of the ancient chamber.

“And you’re absolutely certain they’re in the tomb right now?”

The man spoke nervously. “Yes, sir.”

“Then bring me the sphere.”

A ripple of discontent crossed the room, followed by a long silence as the Oracle considered the implications of what he was ordering. It would mean the destruction of the Tomb of Eternity. This was not the first time they had come under attack, neither was it the first time their secret had almost been discovered — extreme curiosity could drive the most determined of men almost anywhere — but it was the first time anyone had ever got this close to the truth.

And it had to be stopped.

“Perhaps there is another way?” a woman asked.

His expression was grim. “No. We have no choice. We must activate the sphere.”

Another collective gasp of horror went around the assembled elite as the implications of the Oracle’s words sunk in. A moment later a man in robes brought a strange chest to the Oracle and opened it. Inside was a kind of dome covered in a black velvet cloth.

“But this will destroy the tomb, sir,” said one man.

“We will be weakened,” said another.

“This is unprecedented,” said a third. “In all of our ancient history nothing like this has ever been ordered.”

The Oracle glared the man. “In all of our history we have never faced a threat like this.”

The man looked away in fear. It was never wise to argue with the Oracle, or question his decisions.

“Besides,” continued their leader, “the other two sources are safe.”

“But for how long?” the woman said coolly. “We all have a lot to lose.”

“We have everything to lose,” said another man. He looked like he was going to be sick and another murmur of anxiety rippled over the room.

Yes, for how long, indeed, the Oracle considered. The Athanatoi had protected the sources since the beginning of almost everything, and now one of them had finally been uncovered. He would have to work hard to prove he could safeguard the remaining two sources.

“I have made my decision. May the Gods have mercy on me.”

Another gasp.

“Activate the sphere.”

The man beside him opened the dome to reveal a smooth, glass sphere. A faint blue glow emanated from beneath it.

The Oracle ordered the man to lift it. “Proceed with the activation,” he said calmly.

The man turned the upper half of the sphere and the neon blue grew brighter, eerily under-lighting the faces of those present.

“It is done,” the man said.

The Oracle’s face was frozen in a rictus of fear. He nodded his head slowly and spoke, raising his voice for all to hear. “It is done, and cannot be undone. Return this to the other spheres.”

The man walked away with the chest, now re-cloaked in the strange velvet cover.

Half a world away in Ethiopia, a mountain was about to fall apart.

* * *

Hawke kept his eyes fixed firmly on Maxim Vetrov as he moved gradually closer to the fountain. His eyes were wide, staring saucers as he drew closer to the sparkling water, protected in his oblivious state by Kodiak and the men at his rear who were covering everyone with their submachine guns.

“And you can forget about Koura and his cavalry. They are all dead, as is Dr Mazzarro.” Vetrov gestured toward the silenced submachine guns in their hands. “It wasn’t even a challenge.”

The Russian billionaire stepped over the low wall and walked slowly across the tiled courtyard. Clearly apprehensive now, he slowed as he drew ever closer to the ornate fountain where the magical water tumbled in a stream from the mouth of the carved god none of them could name.

As the Russian began to get closer, he began muttering to himself about how finally he had met his destiny. He plunged his hands into the stream of cool, silvery water and scooped it up to his face, drinking greedily. It dribbled out of his mouth and ran down his chin on to his shirt.

“It tastes like nothing on earth!” he gasped, obviously exhilarated by the moment. He plunged his hands in a second time and guzzled more of the gold-silver water. “Nothing has ever tasted like this before…nothing!