Gregg Loomis - Gates Of Hades

By the time the Nuova Marina became Via Cristforo Columbo (having already been Via Amerigo Vespucci), Jason was certain of two things: they had exhausted the list of Italian navigators, and Neapolitans all had death wishes.

He felt relief as the Volvo began to climb the ridges that separated the city from the inland. At the top, Maria promised they would find another Autostrada, this one heading west to Cumae.

As the number of vehicles began to thin out above the city, Jason noticed a lone motorcycle keeping a consistent distance behind them, always at least two cars back. Jason lifted his foot and a Fiat passed with an angry horn blast.

But the bike simply slowed and fell in behind an egg-shaped Smart.

"We've got company," Jason said, putting out a hand to prevent Maria from turning around.

Adrian knew better than to telegraph the fact that their tail had been spotted. "How many?"

"A single motorcycle."

In the rearview mirror Jason could see Adrian nod. "We're only being observed, then."

"Looks that way."

"Y' ken how long?"

Jason shook his head. "Dunno."

"Since the observatory," Maria said.

Jason risked cutting his eyes from the road to her and back again. "The observatory? How do you know that?"

"Guiedo."

"Your friend who was visiting his mother in Rome?"

Maria nodded slowly. "Yes, but I just remembered, Guiedo's mother lives in small town just outside Bologna."

"How well do you know him?"

She shifted uncomfortably in the seat. "Not too well. He was young, just out of university. I think he… what did we say? Yes, I think he thinks I'm hot."

Guiedo at least had his priorities in order.

Jason flicked a glance to the rearview mirror. The bike was still two cars back. "Any chance she could have moved since you last talked to him, maybe to a nursing home or something?"

She was staring straight ahead. "Italians, most of them, would be humiliated to pack a parent off to let someone else care for them. It is possible the woman moved, though, I suppose."

"Not bloody likely," Adrian piped up from the backseat. "Having not one but two sods that Maria didn't know back there, we can bet we're being followed."

"By who?" Maria wanted to know.

So did Jason.

"I dinna think we want to be findin' out," Adrian observed, unfolding a road map. "Try exitin' yer nex' chance."

Jason wasn't surprised when the motorcycle followed. "Still there."

"Bastard's not 'xactly subtle," Adrian growled. "Doesn't give a damn if we know he's there."

"Or he thinks we won't notice."

"I'll…" Jason stopped midsentence. "He's gone!"

"Gone?" both Adrian and Maria chorused.

"We turned right; he turned left."

"Guess we became excited over nothing," Maria ventured.

"Maybe," Jason said. "But I wouldn't bet on it."

"We were meant to see the laddie on the cycle," Adrian explained. "Long as we concentrated on him, we wouldna ken there was another when the first turned away."

Jason stopped, backed up, and returned to the Autostrada. There were several suspicious cars, but each eventually passed the Volvo.

"Unless they've got multiple tails, I can't identify any," Jason admitted.

"So, let's flush 'em out,' Adrian suggested.

Once again, Jason left the multilane highway system with cars both in front and behind. Minutes later the Volvo was laboring up a steep hill behind a truck. Several automobiles were strung out along the winding road for half a mile or so. Without giving a signal, Jason pulled onto one of the periodic overlooks that gave the casual traveler a panorama of Naples across an azure bay.

The rumble of passing traffic faded from Jason's mind as he imagined the pigments he would use to transfer the scene to canvas.

If he ever painted again.

No one seemed interested in the Volvo. Jason elected to continue along the scenic if narrow two-lane that skirted the northwestern corner of the Bay of Naples. He was growing less certain they had been followed at all.

Then an idea evaporated what little complacency he had enjoyed.

"Maria, you've traveled this road before?"

She glanced at him, curious. "One or two times, yes."

"It goes where?"

"Miseno, both the lake and the town. The town sits just south of the ruins at Baia and farther south of the ruins at Cumae."

"Are there any turnoffs, roads that go somewhere else?"

She pointed to the slopes above and the steep dropoff into the water below. "Where would one build any such towns? Other than a few private villas, I think there are no crossroads till we get to Miseno."

From the backseat, Adrian voiced what Jason was thinking.

"There's no need to follow us. Have someone wait ahead, another to make sure we dinna double back, and we're like beetles in a bottle."

The analogy was less than comforting.

Miseno

An hour later

Miseno looked like a resort. Roads branched off in seemingly random fashion like spaghetti, leading to cottage-lined small lakes. The almost perfect circles of the shorelines gave a clue as to origins as volcanic craters. Large restaurants were flanked by even larger parking lots. The area anticipated a successful tourist season.

For now, traffic was light.

Jason pulled onto a grassy embankment that fell steeply off into a lake the color of midnight despite the sunny blue sky above. The few vehicles that passed paid them no attention.

Adrian and Jason exchanged puzzled looks before the latter said, "Guess we weren't followed after all."

The Scot shook his head slowly. "Aye, but dinna be dropping your guard yet."

Maria stretched her arms and yawned. "Where first?"

"Cumae, I think," Jason answered. "I know Eno's book attributed epilepsy to the Sibyl, but I'd like to check to make sure her cave isn't a source of that ethylene, too. How far?"

"Maybe four or five kilometers. Let me drive."

The reason for her request became quickly obvious. Climbing and descending, she took what seemed a haphazard course. From one hill, Jason could see the lakes, from another the sea in the opposite direction.

At last she pulled into a small unpaved parking lot with no indication as to its purpose, turned off the ignition, and got out.

Jason followed, staring up at the surrounding low hills. "This is it?"

Maria nodded, walking around to the trunk. "It is."

"But there's no…" He was looking at a deserted ticket booth and an iron gate hanging open on the last of its hinges.

"No tourists?" She filled in the blank. "Cumae is not one of the popular destinations. Few people other than archaeologists come here."

Cumae must be remote indeed if no one was selling tickets, picture brochures, or cheap souvenirs. Jason suspected that, in Italy, tickets would be printed for a dogfight if it could be anticipated in time.

Maria was digging through the trunk. "I doubt we will encounter the gas you seek here, but we will test the air." She held up a device with a meter attached to a hand pump. "This wall tell us if ethylene is present." She handed a miner's helmet to both Jason and Adrian. "And you will need these."

She led Jason and Adrian along a dirt path that skirted the base of the hill to their left. After the trail made a ninety-degree turn, she stopped. The trio were looking at a passageway cut along the side of the hill. The exposed rock was yellow in color, the tufa Maria had explained was native to the region. Rather than round, the opening was square for its first three or four feet, then towered upward about eight feet in a lopsided A shape. Like floor-to- ceiling windows, open spaces alternated with stone. Even from outside, Jason could see the effect of equal areas of light and dark as the end of the tunnel vanished into shadow.