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“Got me,” Matt said. He could probably study this wall for a year—he planned to—and not decipher all of the glyphs.
“This is interesting.” Matt indicated a herd of what appeared to be dog-horses with stars around their hooves.
For an instant he thought Gina recognized it; she blinked, leaned in closer, frowned. Then she shook her head a little and lifted her chin to indicate the dark path in front of them. “It’ll still be here when we get back.”
They needed to move forward. Except when Matt faced the glistening blackness he didn’t want to. And that wasn’t like him. Usually he couldn’t wait to explore every shadowed nook and cranny.
“Want me to go first?” Gina asked.
“No.” The only thing he wanted less than to move forward himself was to have Gina do it.
Matt put one foot in front of the other, wondering as he did so just what was the matter with him. He should be charging down the corridor, searching for the tomb of a superwarrior that would vindicate both him and his mother. Instead, he really wanted out.
It was as if a foul stench emanated from that darkness, even though every breath Matt took smelled fine. A little musty, a little dusty, a little cold, but not bad.
Luckily, he and Gina didn’t have far to go; he wasn’t sure if he would have been able to continue if they had. Matt covered maybe ten yards, the lantern illuminating their path, Gina determined to step on his heels at every opportunity, and then—
Her arm shot past his cheek, and he inhaled the scent of trees. He wanted to turn his head and rub his face on her skin and smell only that forever.
“What’s there?”
The urgency of her voice brought his attention back where it belonged, and he followed the line of her finger to an opening in the wall. Matt forgot all about the scent of evergreens on smooth, supple skin.
“Burial chamber,” he said.
Gina bent to examine the floor. “This swung inward.”
She pointed at the marks in the dirt, and Matt joined her, insinuating himself between Gina and the uncharted darkness beyond.
He lifted the lantern so he could examine the back of the door. “There’s no handle.”
Gina followed, frowning at the sheer panel on the other side, before her face smoothed and she lifted one shoulder. “Why would there be? If it’s a burial chamber, what’s in there isn’t coming back out.”
“We should probably see what that is.” And Matt should probably be more excited about it.
“Ready when you are.”
Matt shifted the lantern so the golden glow illuminated the small room.
“That can’t be good,” Gina said.
Right now, staring at the empty room, Matt had to agree. Although …
“The Aztecs often burned their warriors, then stashed them in burial pots.”
Gina took a pointed look around the room. Nothing there but dirt and stones and walls.
“According to the codex my mom translated, the superwarrior was buried in the land to the north. Which means he could have been interred by whomever he defeated, according to their practices. I need to research the Ute—”
“The Ute wrapped their dead,” Gina interrupted, “then buried them in rock-covered graves beneath the earth.”
“Which might explain this.”
“The rock-covered grave, yes. But lack of a body?”
Matt contemplated the tomb. “The wrappings, being natural, not synthetic, would have disintegrated by now. But in dry, cool conditions, like these, bones can last for centuries.” Which made it odd that there was nothing left at all.
Odd, but not impossible.
