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“What is it?” Sam asked, still tapping.
“The walls. They don’t end at the floor.”
“What are you talking about, Lazlo?”
“Look at the walls. The stone blocks. They’re symmetrical. But the ones at the base are only a third as deep. So this floor isn’t set on bedrock, as you might expect. Either that or the blighters dug a footer for the walls, which isn’t likely circa 1000.”
“What’s your point?” Sam asked.
“My point is that you’d expect to see this if there was more structure below us. Or as the rune stone said, beneath.” Lazlo unsheathed his machete and began scraping the floor, removing the film of dirt that had accumulated over the centuries. “And if the entire thing’s hollow below, you might not hear a difference by tapping. In fact, I’d wager it’ll all sound the same.”
Sam eyed Remi and nodded, and soon they were all on their knees, working away. An hour passed, and then Antonio called out.
“I found a peg.”
Remi rose and went to him. “A peg?”
Antonio tapped part of the floor. “Do you have a pocketknife?”
Remi unfolded her knife and handed it to him. He used the point of the blade to clear dirt away and soon they were staring at a circle in the floor, six inches in diameter, crafted from stone.
“We’ve seen these in Mayan ruins,” Maribela explained. “The builders would affix a movable slab, using stone pegs to prevent the slab from shifting—effectively locking it in place. There will most certainly be others.”
Antonio wedged the knife blade down the edge of the peg and wiggled it. The peg moved.
“Does anyone else have another knife? We’re going to need at least two.”
Sam handed him his SOG Ae-04 Aegis folding knife and Antonio worked at the stone plug. He was able to raise it three-quarters of an inch, and Sam gripped the edges and pulled it free. He sat back, admiring the precise tapering of the granite cone, and then set it to one side.
“Let’s find the rest of these.”
An hour and seven pegs later, the distinct outline of a stone slab, three feet wide by four long, was clearly evident. Lazlo and Antonio had gone in search of some saplings they could use as makeshift rollers, and Maribela had commandeered a bottle of motor oil to lubricate the edges, hopefully making it easier to break free. Once Antonio returned with two decent lengths of tree trunk, Lazlo following with two more, they placed the wood on the floor and went to work with the pry bars, wedging them along the slab’s edges.
“Get this side lifted and I’ll try to push it from the end using my bar,” Sam instructed. They worked at the stone rectangle, Remi and Maribela using the shovel tips for greater leverage as the men worked the bars, and one end slowly rose from the floor.
“Great. Hold it there . . . hold it . . .” Sam heaved on his bar and levered the slab, first one inch, then another. “Lazlo, get one of the rollers under it. Watch your fingers!”
Lazlo pushed a sapling to the edge, directly beneath the lip, and they eased off the bars, lowering the slab. Antonio quickly rolled the other three in line, so as the slab slid farther it would roll along the trunks. Lazlo joined Sam and got his bar into the opening and heaved. The slab moved another few inches. Sweat dripped from their brows, and Sam paused to wipe it out of his eyes.
“I thought you had a bad back.”
“Bit miraculous, isn’t it? I feel like a teenager again,” Lazlo said.
“It’s a wondrous time. Now, let’s get this thing out of the way so we can see what’s under it.”
They pried together as Maribela poured the last of the motor oil on the grooves. Remi squeezed next to Sam and added her weight to the effort. The heavy stone covering lurched up onto the saplings, revealing a yawning opening. Maribela and Antonio rolled the slab toward them and it ground to a halt near one of the skeletons. Sam freed his aluminum flashlight from his belt and directed the beam into the inky gap. Nobody spoke until Lazlo broke the silence.
“I just hope there aren’t any snakes.”
Remi brushed dust off her pants and moved to the far side of the gap, her beam shining over the long series of stone stairs leading seemingly endlessly downward. A gossamer film of cobwebs blocked the light, and a large black beetle scuttled away into a cranny. Antonio and his sister joined them in peering into the darkness, their additional flashlight wattage doing little.
“So who wants to go down first?” Lazlo asked.
Remi coughed. “Sam?”
“I knew I’d get the job when I saw the spiderwebs.”
“Don’t pout. You love this part.”
