James Rollins - Map of Bones

And they had air tanks.

She clutched the edge of the rockface with her gloved fingers. Uncle Vigor shifted to her side. He placed his hand over hers, urging confidence.

Kat crouched by the opening. The woman’s flashlight pierced the dark tunnel. “I can’t see him.”

Rachel’s grip on the rock tightened.

Her uncle felt her flinch. “He knows what he’s doing. He knows his limits.”

Does he?

Rachel had recognized the edge of wildness about him in the last few hours. It both thrilled her and scared her. She had spent enough time with him. Gray did not think like other people. He operated at the fringes of common sense, trusting his quick thinking and reflexes to pull him out of tight scrapes. But the sharpest mind and fastest reflexes would not help you if a wall of rock dropped on top of your head.

A chop of words reached her. “—can — clear — okay—”

It was Gray.

“Commander,” Kat said loudly, “you’re breaking up.”

“Hang—”

Kat glanced at them. Through her mask, her frown was clear.

“Is this better?” Gray said, the reception steadier.

“Yes, Commander.”

“I was out of water. Had to duck my head back down.” His voice sounded excited. “The tunnel is short,” he said. “A straight shot angled up. If you take a deep breath and kick a bit with your fins, you’ll pop right up here.”

“What did you find?” Uncle Vigor asked.

“Some stone tunnels. Looks solid enough. I’m going to push forward and explore.”

“I’m going with you,” Rachel blurted out. She struggled with the buckles on her vest.

“First let me make sure it’s safe.”

Rachel shrugged out of her air tank and vest and propped them into a crevice. Gray wasn’t the only bold one. “I’m coming up.”

“Me too,” her uncle said.

Rachel took a breath and undid her hose. Free, she swam to the tunnel opening and ducked through. It was pitch dark. In her haste, she had forgotten to turn on her flashlight. But as she flicked her legs and pushed deeper, a ripple of light appeared only three meters ahead. Her buoyancy helped propel her. The light grew. The tunnel widened to either side.

In a matter of moments, she popped out into small pool.

Gray frowned at her. He stood on the stone bank that lipped the circular pool. A drum-shaped chamber opened around her. A man-made cave. The roof was corbeled in narrowing rings, giving it the appearance of being inside a tiny step pyramid.

Gray held out an arm for her. She didn’t refuse, gawking at the chamber. He helped haul her out.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he said.

“And you shouldn’t have gone,” she countered, but her eyes were still on the blocks of stone around her. “Besides, if this place has withstood an earthquake that toppled the Pharos Lighthouse, I think it can handle my footsteps.”

At least, she hoped so.

AMOMENT later, Vigor appeared, splashing up into the pool Gray sighed. He should’ve known better than to try to keep these two away.

Rachel shed her mask and pushed back her hood. She shook loose her hair, then bent to help the monsignor out of the water.

Gray kept his mask in place and ducked his head under the water. The radio worked best with water contact.

“Kat, maintain a post by the tunnel exit. Once we’re out of the water, we’ll lose communication pretty quickly. Monk, if there’s any trouble, relay it to Kat, so she can fetch us.”

He received affirmatives from both. Kat sounded irritated.

Monk was glad to stay where he was. “You go ahead. I’ve pretty much had my fill of crawling around in tombs.”

Gray straightened and finally pulled away his own mask. The air smelled surprisingly fresh, if not a tad crusty with algae and salt. There must be a few crevices to the surface.

“A tumulus,” Vigor said, free of his own mask. He eyed the stone ceiling. “An Etruscan tomb design.”

Two tunnels led out from here, angled apart. Gray was anxious to explore. One was taller than the other, but narrower, barely wide enough for one man to pass through. The other was low, requiring one to hunch a bit, but it was wider.

Vigor touched the blocks that made up one wall. “Limestone. Cut and fitted tightly, but feel…the blocks are cemented with lead.” He turned to Gray. “According to the historical record, this is the same design as the Pharos Lighthouse.”

Rachel stared around her. “This might be part of the original lighthouse, perhaps a subfloor or basement cellar.”

Vigor headed for the closest tunnel, the shorter of the two. “Let’s see where this leads.”

Gray blocked him with an arm. “Me first.”

The monsignor nodded his head, a bit apologetic. “Of course.”

Gray leaned down, pointed his flashlight. “Conserve your flashlight’s batteries for now,” he instructed. “We don’t know how long we’ll be down here.”

Gray took a step forward, hunched beneath the low roof. A twinge pricked his back from one of the bruising slugs he had taken back in Milan. He felt like an old man.

He froze.

Crap.

Vigor bumped into him from behind.

“Back, back, back…” he urged.

“What?” Vigor asked but obeyed.

Gray retreated into the pool chamber.

Rachel eyed him oddly. “What’s wrong?”

“You ever hear of the story about the man who had to choose between two doors, behind one hid a tiger, the other a lady?”

Rachel and Vigor nodded.

“I could be wrong, but I think we’re faced with a similar dilemma. Two doors.” Gray pointed to each dark tunnel. “Remember the riddle of the Sphinx, marking the ages of man? Crawling, upright, and bent over. It took crawling to get into here.” Gray recalled thinking that when he entered the tunnel.

“Now two ways lead forward,” he continued. “One where you can walk upright, another which requires you to hunch. Like I said, I could be wrong, but I’d prefer we take that other tunnel first. The one where you walk upright, the second stage of man.”

Vigor eyed the tunnel they had been about to enter. In his profession as an archaeologist, he must know all about booby-trapped tombs. He nodded. “No reason to be hasty.”

“No reason at all.” Gray circled the pool to the other tunnel.

He shone his flashlight and led the way. It took about ten steps until he breathed again.

The air grew a bit musty. The tunnel must be leading into the depths of the peninsula. Gray could almost sense the weight of the fort above him.

The passage made a series of sharp jags, but eventually his light revealed the tunnel’s end. A larger space opened ahead. The glow of his flashlight reflected off something beyond.

Gray continued more slowly.

The others crowded behind him.

“What do you see?” Rachel asked at the end of the line.

“Amazing…”

ON THE monitor of the Aqua-Vu camera, Monk watched Kat cooling her heels by the tunnel entrance. She sat perfectly still, hovering with minimal effort, a conservation of energy. As he spied, she shifted ever so subtly, underwater tai chi. She stretched a leg, turning a thigh, accentuating the long curve of her body.

He trailed a finger down the screen of a monitor.

A perfect S.

Perfect.

He shook his head and turned away. Who was he fooling?

He searched the flat expanse of blue water. He wore polarized sunglasses, but by now, the constant noonday glare made his eyes ache.

And the heat…

Even in the shade, it had to be over a hundred degrees. His dry suit chafed. He had unzipped and peeled down the upper section of suit, and stood bare-chested. But all the sweat seemed to have pooled in his crotch.