“You think they’ll spare your life?”
“My contact won’t let them kill me.” He couldn’t be 100 % certain of this, but it was a risk worth taking, particularly in contrast to Carina’s hesitancy. He pushed through the group of warriors, but the heat radiating from the fireplace stopped him in his tracks. He reached out a hand, but just six inches above the flat stone surface, he thought he could feel his skin starting to blister.
“Is this the only way in?” Without waiting for an answer, he knelt down and then thrust his hand into the flames.
“Stop!” Carina shrieked, though her reaction had come a fraction of a second too late to matter. Alex’s open palm had already struck the flaming ember pile, swatting at it. The orange flames disappeared as the coals were scattered across the bottom of the fire pit. Although they continued to glow a dull red, the chamber was plunged into near total darkness.
“Don’t worry,” Alex said. “I did a hot coal walk at Lighthouse seminar. It’s possible to touch hot coals without getting burned as long as you don’t maintain contact for very long. It’s called the Leidenfrost Effect. As soon as that stone cools down a little, I’ll—”
Before he could finish the statement, a low rumbling sound vibrated through the stone beneath him, punctuated by a loud final thump.
“What the hell was that?” he asked, groping for his flashlight.
“That was the door closing,” Carina said, irritably. “You can’t fool the Lords of Death with mind games you picked up at a self-improvement seminar. The only way to reach the Underworld is by going through the fire.”
“Well, that’s a stupid idea.”
“This is why I wanted your men to stay behind. They aren’t prepared to make the journey into the Underworld.” She sighed. “We’ll need to gather some more firewood.”
“Screw that. My men have explosives. We’ll just blast our way through.” He sensed another objection coming and raised a hand. “We’re doing this my way, now.”
He stood and was about to start back down the passage when he saw a light coming toward them. He couldn’t make out any other details, but assumed it had to be one of his men. That assumption was proved correct when a male voice called out. “Mr. Scano?”
“Alex,” he growled under his breath. “Why can’t anyone get that right?” Then, loud enough to be heard by the approaching group, he said, “Right here. What took you so long?”
The guy clearly had no sense of humor. “Uh, I know you told us to stay topside,” he said as he closed the remaining distance. “But we thought you would want to know about this.”
There were four more figures making their way down the passage, but one of them was not a member of the security team. It was a woman, and she was being dragged along between two of the armed men. Alex shone his light into the woman’s face.
The woman was average height and slender, with a lean physique that suggested she spent at least part of every day exercising. She had porcelain pale skin and jet black hair pulled back in a severe ponytail that didn’t suit her at all, but was consistent with the tiger stripe pattern camouflage uniform she wore. She was beautiful, Alex thought, despite — or maybe because of — the bruises on her cheek and the blood streaming from a gash on her left temple. Like everyone else, she was liberally frosted with mud.
“Who’s this?” he asked.
“We were attacked,” the security leader said. He sounded angry. “No warning. A bunch of guys with assault weapons came out of the jungle. We kicked their asses, but we lost a couple guys in the process. It looked like she was the leader, so we let her live.”
Alex stalked forward until he was almost nose to nose with the captive. “I paid a lot of money to keep the Guatemalan government off our backs. You better believe I’ll be getting a refund.”
“She’s not Guatemalan,” Carina said from beside him, her voice low and dangerous. “I know this woman.”
Alex glanced sidelong at the redhead, one inquisitive eyebrow raised, but before he could frame a question, the prisoner straightened and spat a gobbet of blood on the floor in front of Carina. “And I know you,” she hissed. “Puta. You killed the only man who was ever kind to you.”
“She is Isabella Beltran,” Carina said, ignoring the insult.
“Beltran?” Alex knew this name. “The Queen of the Yucatan-Gulf Cartel? I’ve heard about you. You’re one tough chica. I didn’t know you were mixed up in this Maya voodoo garbage, though.”
Isabella's gaze flashed toward him. “Mixed up like you, pendejo?”
Her black eyes seemed to drip with venom for a moment, but then she recoiled from him as if he were a leper.
“She is the niece of Hector Canul,” Carina went on. “The former high priest of the Serpent Brothers.” She stressed the word former, twisting the knife in what was clearly an open wound of grief. “She thinks she came here to avenge him.”
“Ah. The plot thickens. I guess you girls have some catching up to do.”
“Hector raised her in the traditions of our people. He meant for her to be his heir.”
Carina’s triumphant tone did not escape Alex’s notice, but the reason for it was lost on him. “And that’s important why?”
“She knows the innermost secrets of the Brotherhood. She can lead us through the Houses of the Dead.”
CHAPTER 27
After several minutes of fruitless searching, Maddock was ready to admit defeat. Despite the obvious wisdom of his preferred course of action, the cautious approach had not paid off. About the only thing he could take comfort in was the fact that none of them had fallen into one of the many seemingly bottomless pits that riddled the cavern floor like holes in a block of Swiss cheese.
Those chasms seemed to be the only way out of Dark House, especially since the passage to the Council had abruptly closed, sealing them in. He assumed that was the handiwork of the Serpent Brothers who had elected to trap them inside rather than pursuing them into Xibalba. There was no point in trying to get the door open again since the snake warriors were lying in wait on the other side, ready to turn them into blow-dart pincushions. Aside from the round stone covering that passage, there was nothing manmade in the chamber; no paintings or carvings that might have concealed a hidden door, and worse, no paw prints. No, the only way out, Maddock knew, was down.
Each of the fissures seemed like a portal to a different level of hell. Some were venting heat and reeked of sulfur, while others were blowing positively frigid air, as if they were connected to an industrial air conditioning unit. None of the holes seemed particularly welcoming, but that was probably the point.
Maddock joined Miranda and her father near the center of the cavern. “I think we’re going to have to climb down into one of these pits,” he said. “We’ve got enough rope for a single pitch, but I don’t think we’ve got the time for a trial and error approach. Any suggestions?”
Bell’s forehead drew into a frown of concern. “My apologies, Mr. Maddock. I really didn’t expect it to be quite so challenging.”
“Just imagine what it must have been like doing this in pitch darkness,” Angel put in as she joined them.
Maddock looked at her sideways. “Yeah,” he said slowly, trying to do exactly that. “I wonder… ”
“Uh, oh,” Bones warned. “He’s thinking again. Stand back. Don’t get any on you.”
“What if we’re supposed to be doing this in total darkness?”
“Right,” Bones said slowly, the sarcasm unmistakable. “That’s a really good idea.”
“No, he’s right,” Miranda said. “Back in the cenote in Tulum, I got confused and didn’t know which passage to take. I was out of air and I knew I had to get it right on the first try, so I shut off my dive light. There was just enough daylight getting through to show me the way forward.”