James Rollins - Map of Bones

Raoul yelled behind her to his men. “Shoot any of the others if they move! The same goes for the two out here. Upon my orders, take them out.”

So if the maze didn’t kill them, Raoul would.

Rachel continued onward. With only one hope.

Gray.

RENDE PLACED a hand on the demolition expert’s shoulder. “Are the charges primed?”

“All sixteen of them,” the man answered. “Just tap this button three times. The grenades are daisy-chained on a ten-minute fuse.”

Perfect .

He turned to the row of sixteen men. Other wheelbarrows stood out in the hall, waiting to be loaded. Five handtrucks also stood ready. The first truck had been carefully backed to the main gate, and the second was on its way. It was time to empty the vault.

“Get to work, men. Double time.”

GRAY’S KNEES ached.

Three-quarters around the maze, it became torture on his kneecaps. The smooth glass now felt like rough concrete. But he dared not stop. Not until he reached the center.

As he made his turns around the circuit, he crossed alongside the neighboring paths with Rachel and Raoul. It would only take a hip check to knock Raoul off his path. Even Raoul suspected this, pointing his gun at Gray’s face as they passed.

But there was no need for the caution. Gray knew if he crossed the platinum etched lines with even a hand or a hip, he’d be killed as quickly as Raoul. And with the glass face activated, Rachel would probably be electrocuted, too.

So he let Raoul pass unmolested.

When he crossed paths with Rachel, their eyes remained fixed upon each other. Neither spoke. A bond had grown between them, one built on danger and trust. Gray’s heart ached with every pass: to hold her, to comfort her. But there was no stopping.

Around and around they went.

A droning grew inside his head, vibrating up the bones of his arms and legs. He also heard a commotion above. In the cathedral. Soldiers involved in some activity up there.

He ignored it all and crawled onward.

After a final turn, a straight shot led to the center rosette. Gray hurried forward, glad to reach home base at last. With his knees on fire, he lunged the last distance and sprawled onto his back.

The droning grew into a murmuring just beyond the range of the audible. He sat up, his hairs vibrating with the noise. What the hell…?

Rachel appeared and crawled toward him. Staying low, he helped her into the center. She slipped into his arms. “Gray…what are we—?”

He knelt with her and squeezed her silent.

There was only one hope.

A slim one.

Raoul appeared and crawled over to them. He wore a huge grin. “The Dragon Court owes you both for your generous service.” He pointed his gun. “Now stand up.”

“What?” Gray asked.

“You heard me. Stand up. Both of you.”

With no choice, Gray tried to pull himself out of Rachel’s arms, but she clung to him. “Let me first,” he whispered.

“Together,” she answered.

Gray met her eyes and saw her determination.

“Trust me,” she said.

Gray took a deep breath, and the two of them stood up. Gray expected to be cut in half, but the floor remained quiet.

“A safe zone,” Rachel said. “In the center of the star. The lasers never crossed this part.”

Gray kept his arm around Rachel. It fit like it belonged there.

“Keep back or you’ll be shot,” Raoul warned. He stood up next, stretched a kink, and reached into a pocket. “Now to see what prize you delivered to us.”

Raoul pulled out the key, bent down, and shoved it into the keyhole.

“A perfect fit,” Raoul mumbled.

Gray pulled Rachel tighter into his arms, fearful of what would happen next, certain of only one thing.

In her ear, he whispered the secret he had been holding from everyone since Alexandria.

“The key’s a fake.”

GENERAL RENDE had come down to oversee the first load of treasure. They could not take everything, so someone had to perform triage, pick the choicest bits of antiquity, art, and ancient texts. He stood near the landing with inventory pad in hand. His men crawled along the topmost tier of the massive structure.

Then a strange rumble vibrated through the cavern.

It wasn’t an earthquake.

More like something shook all his senses at once. His balance shifted a few degrees off kilter. His hearing roared. His skin chilled like someone had just walked over his grave. But worst of all, his vision shimmered. It was like the world became a bad television picture tube, fritzing the screen image, playing with perspective. Three dimensions dissolved to a flat two.

Rende fell back to the stairwell.

Something was happening. Something wrong.

He felt it down to his bones.

He fled up the stairs.

RACHEL CLUNG to Gray as the vibration worsened. The floor under them pulsed with white light. With each beat, arcs of electricity raced outward along the lines of platinum, crackling and flaring. In seconds, the entire labyrinth shone with an inner fire.

Gray’s words echoed in her ears. The key’s a fake .

And the labyrinth responded.

A deep tone chimed beneath them, ominous and foreboding.

Pressure again built, closing and squeezing.

A new Meissner field grew, strangely skewing perception.

Overhead, the entire complex seemed to vibrate, like a flickering filament of a lightbulb.

Reality bent.

A meter away, Raoul straightened from where he crouched over the inserted key, unsure of what was happening. But he must have sensed it, too. An overwhelming sense of wrongness. It nauseated the senses.

Rachel clung to Gray, glad for the support.

Raoul swung toward them and brought his pistol up. He came to the truth too late. “Back at the castle. You gave us the wrong goddamn key.”

Gray stared at him. “And you lose.”

Raoul pointed his gun.

Around them, the fiery star shattered back into existence, blasting forth from all the windows simultaneously. Raoul crouched lower, fearful of being cut in half.

Overhead the stone pedestal broke free from its magnetic attachment to the lodestone arches. It plummeted back to the ground. Raoul looked up too late. The edge of the stone caught him in the shoulder and crushed him to the floor.

As the pillar struck, the glass shattered like ice under them, skittering out in all directions. From the cracks, a blinding brilliance erupted.

Gray and Rachel remained standing.

“Hold tight,” Gray whispered.

Rachel sensed it, too. A rising vibration of power, under them, around them, through them. She needed to be closer. He responded, turning her to face him, arms crushing her to his chest, leaving no space. She pulled hard to him, feeling his heart beat through his rib cage.

Something was rushing up from below.

A bubble of black energy. It was about to strike.

She closed her eyes as the world exploded with light.

ON THE FLOOR, Raoul’s shoulder flamed with white-hot agony. Crushed bones ground together. He fought to escape, panicked.

Then a supernova exploded under and through him, so bright it penetrated to the back of his skull. It spread through his brain. He fought its penetration, knowing it would undo him.

He felt violated, splayed open, every thought, action, desire bared.

No…

He could not shut it out. It was larger than him, more than him, undeniable. All his being was drawn out along a shining white thread. Stretched to the point of breaking, agonized, but it left no room for anger, self-hatred, shame, loathing, fear, or recrimination. Only a purity. An unadulterated essence of being. This is who he could be, who he was born to be.