Michael Cordy - The Source

Zeb glanced at her notes. 'We keep left and walk along the high shelf, with the valley on our right.' She pointed to the dense forest above it. 'We head over there.'

But Sister Chantal turned right, scrabbled in the undergrowth and began to walk down a narrow, sloping path into the valley. Ross's heart skipped a beat.

'Where are you going, Sister?' asked Zeb, echoing his thoughts. 'The directions don't lead down there.'

Sister Chantal carried on, then stopped on a natural viewing platform.

'Have you seen something?' asked Hackett. 'What's down there?'

She beckoned. 'If you come here, Mr Hackett, I'll show you.'

Ross and Hackett clambered down, leaving the others with the packs and equipment. Perhaps it was the angle of the setting sun, or the perspective from the lower ledge, but as Ross stood beside her and Hackett the valley's secret was revealed: a regular pattern of geometric structures.

It was too much for Hackett, who collapsed to his knees. 'This is it,' he said. 'We've only gone and found it.' Tears streamed down his face. 'This is the mother metropolis.'

Ross, too, was awestruck. The ruins of Kuelap had been vast but they were dwarfed now by the lost city laid out below him. Despite the greenery that covered everything, he could clearly see the contours of what had once been a mighty metropolis. The streets, the plazas, even the few remaining pillars that matched the mighty trees in the surrounding jungle were clearly visible. As he peered down he saw two spotted jaguars lope through the boulevards. This once great city had been reclaimed by nature.

'This place has probably been lost to mankind for more than a thousand years. Those circular habitations are typical of the Chachapoyan cloud people. I bet this is where their civilization was born, and many more besides – Christ, this could be the cradle of all South American civilizations. This is fantastic. A life's dream come true.' He called up to the others: 'We're here! We've found it! The mother of all lost cities!'

'Will there be gold?' asked Mendoza.

'There's a simple way to find out. Let's go down and take a look.'

'But what about el abuelo?' wailed Juarez.

'Where's your courage, man?' growled Mendoza.

Hackett laughed. 'Trust me, my friend, these ruins are worth the risk. They'll make us rich and famous. All of us.'

When Hackett led Juarez and Mendoza down into the valley, Ross and Zeb hung back with Sister Chantal. 'What is this place, Sister?' said Ross, quietly.

She did not reply.

'It's not in the Voynich or Falcon's book,' said Zeb, flicking through her notes.

'Perhaps it really is Eldorado,' said Ross, 'and Father Orlando missed it. Perhaps he and the conquistadors walked right past the very thing they were seeking.'

'Look at them,' said Zeb, watching Hackett and the others rushing down the path. Ross detected fondness in her eyes. 'Nigel's like a kid. Who'd have thought the tight-ass could get so excited? For his sake, I hope there is gold here.'

'There is,' said Sister Chantal, emphatically. 'So much that they'll stay here while we go in search of something infinitely more valuable. We should be able to reach the garden and be back in a week. We'll leave them a note.'

Ross realized he had seriously misjudged her. 'You had this little diversion planned from the start, didn't you?'

'The fewer people who know about the garden the better.'

Ross stepped round so he could see her face. 'How did you know this place was here?'

When she met his gaze her eyes were ruthlessly clear. 'I'm the Keeper,' she said, and walked down into the lost city.

The breeze dropped as they descended into the valley. By the time they reached the city, there was no movement in the warm, humid air, and the sheen on Ross's skin had developed into rivulets of sweat. As they passed the crumbling gate towers, the sounds of the jungle were replaced with an eerie quiet. Ross listened intently but heard only the occasional drone of insects. Among the vine-clad ruins and the surrounding slopes of the deep, lush valley, he had the surreal impression that he was on the floor of the ocean in a vast, verdant Atlantis. The impression was heightened when he looked up, beyond the towering pillars, to the sun refracted in the hazy blue sky above.

'I don't like this place. It's dead,' said Juarez, as he shuffled along behind Hackett. 'Something bad happened here.'

'Shut up,' said Mendoza.

'Yes, Juarez. Will you relax, for Christ's sake?' added Hackett.

But as they walked down the main boulevard, dwarfed by the towering rock edifices that lined their passage, stepping over thick vines and passing narrow side-streets, Ross noted that both Mendoza and Hackett had spoken softly when they admonished the other man, as if wary of disturbing some malevolent presence. Despite the silence, the sensation of being watched was even more acute than it had been in the jungle. Ross didn't like the place and he suspected that even Hackett, despite his passion for antiquity, wasn't happy. An intangible sense of foreboding reminded him of the time he and Lauren had visited the Colosseum in Rome, which had shared a similar atmosphere of dread and despair. He glanced at Sister Chantal, who kept her eyes straight ahead. Zeb was clutching herself as if she was cold, despite the oppressive heat.

'I don't see any gold,' said Mendoza.

Hackett pointed to the end of the boulevard, flanked by two rough-hewn pillars. 'From what I saw on the ridge, the public and civic areas will be over there. That's where we should search.'

'Screw the gold,' said Zeb. 'I want to know where we're going to spend the night.'

'Me too,' said Juarez.

'The public areas and the main plaza should be more open,' said Hackett, 'less claustrophobic.'

'You mean less creepy,' said Zeb.

Hackett was right. The boulevard led to a large plaza. Its vast paving stones were cracked and uneven where plants and trees had grown through them. To the right a large diamond-shaped area – twenty feet wide – was bordered with heavy stones. The earth within it, covered with vegetation and dark blooms, had sunk many feet below the surrounding stones, giving the impression of a vast pit of flowers.

To the left they saw a stepped pyramid, extravagantly overrun with plants. Each of the three steps was the height of a modern house with a steep staircase carved into the front face, leading to a portal in the top tier. The structure was about sixty feet high and reminded Ross of the Aztec and Mayan pyramids he had seen on the Discovery channel. He couldn't help but be impressed by its scale. Just assembling the massive rocks to form the steps would be an amazing feat with today's technology, let alone at the time it had been built.

'Did you know there are more pyramids in Peru than there are in Egypt?' said Hackett. 'And that stepped ziggurats like this are also found in the Middle East and the Mediterranean?'

'How old is it?'

Hackett was cutting away vines. 'I'd say at least a thousand years old.'

'How the hell did they build it?'

Hackett wiped the sweat from his brow. 'With the one resource they had in abundance. Manpower. Ancient civilizations had no unions, but they did have pulleys, levers and armies of men. Durham Cathedral in northern England and the amazing temple Angkor Wat in Cambodia are both almost a thousand years old. The Colosseum in Rome's almost two thousand, while Stonehenge and the Great Pyramid at Giza are more than four thousand.'

'Check this out, Ross,' shouted Zeb, from across the plaza. She stood at the edge, pointing at a ring of stones that surrounded a stone bowl. In its centre a pillar about four feet high had been carved into the shape of an exotic flower.

Ross went over to her. The pillar was sunk deep into the ground, and the splayed stone petals formed multiple spouts. 'Looks like there was once a natural spring they directed into a communal fountain.'