Josip stared over to Vigor. “Just like the Tisza River in Hungary. It was only during the drought that the secret entrance to the river vault revealed itself.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Monk asked.
He ducked inside, taking the lead in case there was any danger. The others quickly followed.
Vigor glanced over to Rachel, grinning ear to ear, ready to follow, barely able to contain himself.
This is what he lived for.
She prayed that it didn’t also kill him.
10:37 P.M.
Vigor followed on hands and knees behind Josip.
The tunnel had more headroom than he had expected, but it helped that Monk used his industrial-strength prosthetic hand to clear any blockages out of the way: tumbles of rocks, berms of sand, crusts of salt. He was a living drill bit, tunneling deeper into the former island.
“Looks like it opens a few yards ahead!” Monk called back.
A minute later, he was proven right.
Monk’s light vanished from view, leaving its glow behind. Then Josip followed him out, climbing free of the tunnel. Once on his feet, his friend froze, then stumbled weakly to the side, clearly in shock.
With his heart thudding harder, Vigor clambered to the tunnel’s end and pushed into the cave beyond.
Stunned, he lifted his light higher as he stood up, adding his illumination to the others.
A large cavern stretched before them—caked entirely in salt. The domed white roof dripped with glistening stalactites of crystalline salt. Stalagmites rose like opalescent fangs. Elsewhere full columns of salt connected floor to ceiling. Silvery-white crystals coated every surface.
The others joined them, voicing various levels of astonishment as they entered.
Duncan came last, adding, “Holy Mother of—”
Josip cut him off, gaping around. “This cave must have been underwater, too. When the waters receded, seeping slowly away, it left only the sea’s salt behind.”
“And hopefully something else,” Vigor added and pointed across the chamber. “We need to search for more of Genghis’s relics.”
The group spread out, working gingerly across the floor. It was a difficult task as the stone underfoot was piled thickly with the same fingerlike crystals seen outside, only some here were as thick around as a man’s thigh, leaning drunkenly upon one another, like a felled forest of salt.
The crunch of crystals echoed off the walls as they labored. The air smelled of the sea and burned the eyes.
Jada whispered with Duncan, but her voice reached everyone due to the cavern’s acoustics. “Water levels must have risen and fallen in here over the centuries to create this accumulation.”
“And rainfall added to it each year,” Duncan said. “Leaching more salt from the ground above.”
Jada stared up to the roof. “I’m guessing during Genghis’s time this cavern was not entirely flooded. But only accessible by swimming underwater.”
They were probably right.
Suddenly tired, recognizing that perhaps archaeology was a young man’s sport, Vigor leaned on a salt column as wide as a telephone pole to rest, believing it sturdy enough to hold his weight. Instead, it cracked under his hand, breaking in half, proving its fragility.
Luckily Monk and Rachel were there to pull him back and shield his body as a shower of crystal shards and larger chunks rained down.
“Take care, Uncle,” Rachel warned, helping him straighten and brushing sparkling dust from his shoulders.
“Look here,” Monk said, pointing to the flared base of the broken column.
Vigor turned, bringing up his flashlight. He shone its brightness into the core of the translucent pillar. Something buried there reflected his light even brighter.
“Over here!” he called to the group.
Others gathered and added their own beams, helping to reveal what was preserved in the salt.
Josip dropped to one knee. “It appears to be a pedestal of stone, holding up a box of some sort.”
His friend stared up at him, wonder shining in his face.
“Like the Hungarian bishop described in Attila’s tomb!” Vigor exclaimed. “This must be it.”
Josip stood. “We must break it free of the salt!”
Arslan appeared, bringing up a small satchel of tools. Using hammers, chisels, and brushes, Josip worked with Arslan to chip away at the thick base of the column.
As it was slowly revealed, the box proved to be large, a foot or so tall and twice as long.
Josip swept crystals off its black surface. The chisel had nicked it in a few places. Vigor’s friend used a fingernail to dig more vigorously at one of the scratches. “It looks to be silver under the tarnish.”
Vigor leaned closer as Arslan freed the lower half of the chest. “I think you’re right. And it’s hinged at the back here.”
In short order, the remainder of the box was broken free of the crust. It shifted on its pedestal with a final strike of a hammer.
Arslan stepped back, his work done.
Vigor waved to Josip. “You open it. You’ve earned the right.”
His friend gripped his arm in gratitude, speechless with anticipation, his fingers shaking slightly on Vigor’s arm.
With both hands, Josip lifted the lid and cracked it open with a salty grate of its hinges. As he raised it, the front panel fell open, apparently hinged on its bottom edge.
Rachel stepped away, covering her mouth. “My God . . .”
11:02 P.M.
As Vigor’s niece moved back, Duncan had a clear view of what the box held.
It looked like a miniature sculpture of a boat, with a prominent keel that swooped into a knobbed bowsprit at the front, its sides made of artfully curved planks. A pair of masts supported square sails, both slightly ribbed like a closed set of blinds.
“Looks like a Song dynasty junk,” Vigor said. “During the Middle Ages such ships plied the seas and rivers of China.”
Rachel shook her head. “But this one is constructed out of rib bones and vertebrae. The sails are made of dried human skin.”
Duncan stepped closer and saw she was right. The curved planks of the boat’s side were ribs. The knob of the bowsprit was a spinal vertebra. He would take her word that the sails were made of human skin.
“More of Genghis,” Monk said.
“Can we be sure?” Rachel asked.
“I can send a sample to the same genetics lab in Rome,” Vigor offered. “We could have confirmation in a day or so.”
Jada nudged Duncan and stated, “Or we find out right now.”
All eyes turned to him.
He understood. “She’s right.” He lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers. “If this tissue is from the same body, I’ll know.”