David Golemon - Legend

"I need to examine that diary. I'm begging you," Helen said as she sat down in a chair. She placed her arms on her knees as she leaned forward. "I know one of your many passions is learning about our past; you even have a doctorate in world history from the University of Venice. So you must see that this fossil is possible proof we didn't develop alone, that we had relatives that grew alongside of us."

Santiago sat in his chair motionless. He rubbed his eyes, at the back of which had suddenly sprouted a headache.

"Was it sent to San Jeronimo el Real for safekeeping in 1875?" she asked point blank, while closing her eyes as if in prayer.

He swallowed and cleared his throat.

Helen looked up and into the man's brown eyes. Her own were now wide and expectant.

"I will not allow the diary to leave church property. You may make two copies of the pages you seek; they may give enough descriptive information of landmarks to allow you to find the area you wish to find. The rest of the diary is not for your eyes, even if it can help you. There's a reason that information is buried in this church. And since the map and gold samples are irrevocably lost to the world, it would seem I have little choice but to help you. I will not be a roadblock to knowledge." He noticed her expression. "You are shocked? At first I was also, but then I thought this is not faith shattering, it only proves that God is still mysterious and his ways unknowable. But that does not mean that knowledge cannot be a dangerous thing."

Helen closed her eyes again and clasped her hands together, not really listening to Santiago's warning. But she refrained from verbally expressing any joy when she saw the archbishop's expression of consternation as he rose from his chair.

She stood also, shaking with the excitement at knowing her search for the diary of Captain Hernando Padilla had come to an end. The artifact she had shown the archbishop had the effect she had prayed for.

"I'm afraid you may have stumbled upon something God has seen fit to hide in an inaccessible place for a reason, and, from what I saw in that case, Professor, you would be wise beyond your young years to leave this alone."

"If I may ask, why are you willing to assist me?"

He turned toward her again, his face a scowl. "I have read the diary, from cover to cover, many times." He saw her expression. "Does it surprise you that I would naturally be curious as to the old legends? But it is not only mere curiosity that guides me, but the fact that there are other things in that jungle besides your mysterious animal I must know about firsthand. You will be my messenger, because certain decisions will have to be made about this mysterious world you are going to, and you will assist me in acquiring the information I need to make those decisions. That is the deal, and for that reason alone is why I will help you."

She started to respond but the archbishop had already opened the thick oaken door and was gone.

The Preciados Hotel Madrid had luxurious nineteenth-century room decor and twenty-first-century avant-garde public areas. At ten o'clock in the evening, those public areas were crowded with tourists and businesspeople enjoying a warm summer night.

In her room for the past hour after returning from her appointment with Archbishop Santiago, Helen Zachary sat on the edge of the large bed, deep in thought. She looked over at her suitcase that was packed and ready to go. Only moments before, she had moved up her flight to New York and was now booked to leave at three in the morning. Inside her carefully packed suitcase, tucked between some innocuous pages of her notebook, were photocopies of the two pages she had been permitted to see of the diary of Captain Hernando Padilla. She had actually started to shake when the old diary had been placed in her hands by the archbishop. The book had felt warm to her touch. It was as if the weight of the days described within its pages fell directly onto her shoulders. Without reading the tale that was written by a once strong hand, Helen knew the journal told details of wonder and horror. When she opened the diary, the archbishop had removed it easily from her grasp to turn to the agreed-upon pages that described the route one needed to take to find the lagoon and falls that were hidden in a small valley. He didn't trust her enough to allow her to even accidentally read anything other than those two pages.

As she sat there and calculated how long it would be before she could start organizing the million and one things she would have to coordinate to launch the expedition, a knock sounded at her door. She was startled out of her thoughts.

"Yes?" she called.

There was no answer through the thick door. Helen stepped up and asked again as she leaned close to use the peephole. "Yes?"

"It is Madrid, Dr. Zachary, not Tehran," a voice answered through the door. "It is quite safe to open your door here."

She swallowed when she finally recognized the voice. She moved quickly to undo the chain and unlock the door. Standing there, dressed casually, was a tall man in a black suit, white shirt, and scarlet-colored tie. His blond hair was combed straight back and he was smiling.

"Dr. St. Claire, how in the world did you know what hotel I was in?" She opened the door wider to allow him in.

"Professor, your expense account and credit cards have been issued by our mutual friend in Bogota. Believe me when I say it wasn't at all difficult to locate you." He stepped easily into the room and immediately noticed the suitcase.

"You caught me off guard. I didn't even have time to call you with the wonderful news."

"So your mission to Madrid has been fruitful?" he asked with undisguised excitement.

"Yes, the archbishop relented and allowed me to copy the route from the diary."

"I must know, Helen, what was it like, grasping the diary, something that has been so elusive to us?"

"Oh, Henri, it was indescribable, it was like holding on to history itself."

The tall man smiled and grasped her hands. "I knew it would be. Tell me, did you have to show him the fossil?"

Helen Zachary momentarily closed her eyes and then smiled and opened them. "Yes, he was shocked, but he also knew something of marine life. You were right about that; how did you know?"

"Always know what it is that will move those to your side of the game board." He let go of her hands and looked in a deliberate manner around the room. "Why, it looks as if you are packed; according to my information, you aren't due to leave here until tomorrow."

"Yes, I thought I would get an earlier flight back home as soon as possible. I don't want to waste any time at all in getting things started. If we hurry we can miss the rainy season in Brazil," she lied.

He turned and fixed her with his blue eyes. He smiled broadly, showing his teeth, but Helen saw that the smile never reached his eyes.

"Good news, then; you can return to the States with me. Banco de Juarez International Economica has a private jet refueling even as we speak. We can fly straight to California without the need for a layover in New York."

Helen was taken aback for a moment, then she quickly recovered and tried to look pleased. "That's wonderful, the sooner the better. Do you think there will be any problems with the initial financing for the expedition, now that we know where we are going?"

"Not at all considering what we are after. Joaquin Delacruz Mendez and his banking concern have never once denied me financing on a project." He looked pointedly at her suitcase. "Helen, are you forgetting something?"

She turned away and removed her coat from the closet. "I don't believe so."

"The copies, you silly goose; may I see them?"

She took a deep breath and started to recite the lines she had memorized just in case she was asked this very question before she returned to home soil.