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“Perhaps they traded for it? Obsidian, too. And Toltec pottery. Ceramics.”
“Any reason I can’t come in?” Sam asked through the hole.
“No, but be careful. This will be a significant find and we don’t want to crash around like buffalo.”
Sam eased himself through the gap. Maribela and Lazlo followed him in, trailed by Antonio.
They found themselves in a twelve-by-fifteen-foot chamber of carved stone walls. Remi stepped gingerly around a pile on the ground and leaned down, holding the lamp in front of her. The LED bulbs illuminated the interior of the crypt in an
eerie white glow. She lifted a small figure from the mound and held it up. “Gold.”
Sam and Lazlo were standing by the figure on the platform. The mummy’s skin was desiccated, the color of coffee and the texture of beef jerky. Lazlo peered at it and did a quick calculation. “Looks like he was no more than five feet tall, so clearly indigenous. Not exactly the tall, imposing, bearded figure of the legends, is he?”
Maribela moved to his side, gazing down at the body. “But the robe is consistent with the stories. White, or what was once white, animal hide. The robe of a prophet . . .”
“Or a god,” Antonio whispered.
“But no Eye of Heaven,” Sam said.
“Alas, probably part of the legend that grew over time,” Maribela said. “As you know, the enormous riches could have increased in these tales with the telling, along with Quetzalcoatl’s height.”
Remi had moved past the offerings and was studying the symbols on the wall. “Look, almost all of them are snakes. Quetzalcoatl. And here—the procession theme is reprised, but they’re carrying the body of a feathered serpent in this depiction. A funeral procession.”
They spent another hour inside the chamber as the workers continued propping wooden beams along the tunnel’s length, and then Remi set her dimming light down and brushed a hand through her dusty hair. “I think we’ve had a productive day, don’t you? It’s probably time to leave this to the experts.”
Antonio nodded. “It’s one of the most significant discoveries in the last hundred years. You should be very proud of yourselves. The discoverers of Quetzalcoatl’s final resting place. It’s an incredible honor to work with you both.”
Maribela smiled. “Yes. It’s a remarkable achievement. The Mexican people owe you a tremendous debt for restoring an important piece of their history to them. Another tremendous debt,” she added, referring to the Mayan Codex the Fargos had retrieved only months before.
“The honor is ours,” Sam said, “for being allowed to explore a sacred site. And you should be congratulating yourselves as well. This will be a huge event in the archaeology community. Quetzalcoatl’s lost treasure and his body all in one day. Most don’t have that kind of a find in a lifetime.”
Remi cleared her throat, the dust thick in the air. “What we’ve found we couldn’t have done without you,” she said graciously, although the truth was more complicated.
Lazlo was staring at the mummy, shaking his head.
“What is it, Lazlo?” Sam asked.
“We’re still missing something. I don’t know what, but we are.”
Maribela chuckled. “Lazlo, you did it. If the find isn’t what you’d hoped for, that doesn’t mean anyone’s missing anything.”
“Perhaps. But I want to do a careful inspection of the interior. Just as the information that led us here was overlooked in the López Mateos tombs, my sense is it’s too early to assume we’ve cracked this nut.”
Antonio stepped forward.
“Of course we’ll do a detailed analysis of the find and go over every inch of it. We’re all after the same thing, and I think Lazlo’s instincts should be respected. It’s always possible that there are more secrets here and that Quetzalcoatl hasn’t revealed them all to us yet.”
When they were back at ground level, Antonio placed calls to arrange for more security as night fell. They wanted to take no chances with a room that contained gold and priceless artifacts. In a rural area of Mexico well away from the reaches of the police departments, Antonio was naturally cautious—enough of the workers had seen what lay in the chamber for rumors to begin and an armed presence was the sensible precaution.
Antonio’s cell phone chirped and he excused himself. He listened for a few moments and his face went white. When he returned, he looked shaky.
“What’s wrong, Antonio?” Remi asked.
“It’s . . . They found Carlos’s body.”
They fell silent, the excitement over the find now muted by the reality of their colleague’s violent demise. Antonio shared the slim facts he’d been given, which explained nothing. Another senseless death in a brutal world and a good man taken from the Earth for no reason. As the daylight waned, a hot wind blew across the ruins like the breath of an angry god, moaning through the surrounding structures, a funeral dirge for their departed friend. After contemplating the news of Carlos’s passing, Sam and Remi packed their backpacks as the siblings issued instructions to the two security men. When Antonio was finished, he approached the Fargos, his mood somber.
“I’m going to stay here until the additional security shows up. I’ve asked for a contingent of soldiers from the nearby military base.” He checked the time. “They should arrive in an hour. Are you leaving?”
