Rosauro stepped to the fresco and pointed to the lines of other figures fleeing the besieged complex in various directions. “These refugees,” she said to Elizabeth. “This must be why your father found all the genetic trails led to this region, why the markers are so concentrated in this area, especially among the lower castes. It’s where the refugees were absorbed into the populace.”
As they talked, Gray had crossed down the wall one more time, studying each image more closely. He came to the last mosaic, the one with the fiery boy. “There’s writing below here,” he said.
Elizabeth stepped closer. There were three lines. The topmost was a handsome line of Harappan script, the next line Sanskrit, the last Greek. Below the lines rested another chakra wheel.
“I can’t read the Harappan hieroglyphics,” she said. “No one can. And below that, I can make out only the first few words of the Sanskrit and Greek. The rest has been worn away. What I can translate, reads ‘the world will burn…’” She took some snapshots, especially of the fiery figure. “The rest is lost.”
Gray leaned lower and touched the chakra wheel inscribed below the lines. “This must be important. It’s repeated over and over.”
He straightened and turned toward the larger chakra wheel carved into the floor. The omphalos rested at its center. Elizabeth could almost read Gray’s mind. If the chakra was important, then what lay at its center must be doubly so. The man’s eyes narrowed as he stalked over to the stone. They’d only given it a cursory glance.
“Your father hid the skull inside the stone at the museum. Maybe there was a reason.”
Gray climbed on top of the domed omphalos.
“Be careful,” Elizabeth squeaked out, fearful of marring the piece of ancient history. She circled the stone and noted the bottom rim was inscribed with three languages again: Harappan, Sanskrit, and Greek.
She took more pictures.
Balancing on top of the omphalos, Gray shone his light down through the hole and into its hollow heart.
“What do you see?” she asked.
“Gold…in the shape of two eagles.”
Elizabeth’s breath shortened. “Are they facing away from each other?”
Gray glanced back to her. “Yes.”
“It’s another lost artifact from Delphi, representing Zeus’s eagles. According to mythology, the pair was sent in opposite directions from his shoulders to pinpoint the center of the world. They came to roost at Delphi, marking the navel of the world.”
“Your father surely must have found them, too.” Gray reached inside. “Maybe there’s some reason they’re hidden here, the same reason your father hid the skull in the omphalos at the museum.”
As he strained, Elizabeth edged around the stone, continuing her translation of the three lines.
“I think I can reach them…,” Gray said.
Elizabeth mumbled the words found there, tracing each letter with her finger. “‘Greed and blasphemy bring doom to all.’”
Elizabeth stopped.
Oh, no!
“Got it,” Gray said as he reached the golden idols.
Elizabeth snapped straight. “Don’t!”
Startled, Gray slipped.
Something loud thumped inside the stone, followed by a thunderous crack underfoot. A low roar followed, coming from the rear of the chamber, growing in volume, like a freight train barreling toward them.
Everyone froze for a breath, then Gray shoved an arm toward the stairs. “Everybody out!” he screamed.
Too late.
From the spring’s hole, an explosion of water blasted out with the power of a fire hose—in a column two feet thick. Fissures skittered across the wall, radiating out from the opening.
A man-made flash flood.
The water smashed against the far wall and swept into the room, knocking them all off their feet with the force of its current.
Elizabeth tangled into the others as the room swelled rapidly with icy water. Gray nabbed her elbow and dragged her toward the stairs.
“A trap…” She coughed in shock. “Pressure switch! My father…tried to warn us…”
Gray cried. “Out! Out!”
She climbed the first few stairs on hands and feet. Behind her, Gray fished Luca out of the water and shoved him toward the stairs. The level had already climbed to the top of her thighs and rose higher with every breath. Gray remained below, braced in the stairwell opening, searching the small cave.
Elizabeth knew why.
Where was Rosauro?
Gray had lost sight of her. She had been closest to the spring when it blew. The blasting water swirled like a whirlpool in the cavern and reflected his flashlight’s beam. He could not see beneath the surface. By now, the water had climbed to his waist. Still, Rosauro should be able to stand, and even if knocked out, her body should be buoyant enough to reveal her location.
Unless…
Gray turned to Luca and held out his arm. “Your dagger!”
With a flash of silver, a blade appeared in the Gypsy’s hand. He slapped the grip into Gray’s palm. In turn, Gray tossed him the flashlight.
“Hold the beam underwater!” he ordered and dove out into the growing lake.
The current grabbed him and whipped him around the edge of the room. He didn’t fight it. He let the force churn him to the far side of the cave. He knew when he’d reached it, sensing the raw power of the jetting spring below. He twisted and kicked toward the opposite wall.
Conscious or not, only one thing could be holding Rosauro down beneath the water.
Pressure.
Gray dove to where the spring had drained out of the cavern. In the dim light of the flashlight, he spotted a struggling form trapped in the drainage slot. Rosauro had been sucked tight against the hole, one arm swallowed down its throat. Gray heard of people drowning, pinned to swimming pool drains. This was a force a hundred times as fierce.
Gray grabbed her free arm and pulled himself down to her. He braced his legs to either side of the trough. She stared up at him. Even in the weak light, he saw the raw panic on her face.
Gray slashed out with the dagger. He’d lost one teammate to drowning—he wasn’t about to lose another. The blade sliced through the straps of Rosauro’s backpack. Half the bag had been sucked into the hole, holding her trapped. Once cut free, Gray dropped the dagger, grabbed her around the chest, and heaved with his legs.
For a moment, she remained stuck. Then the pack shifted deeper into the hole, weakening the pressure enough for Gray to pop her out. He tumbled back with her in his arms. He let the spin of the current carry them toward the light and the stairwell.