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Whit made a noncommittal grunt.
“How large is the tunnel opening?”
“Not very, I have to go in sideways to enter.”
The magic inside was near bursting, threatening release. I had no idea how that kind of energy moved, how it chose where to go. But I felt it moving like a strong current in my bloodstream. Desperate, I brushed my fingers alongside the corners, and I felt an area of bumpy stone.
“There,” I murmured. “Found it.”
I pressed hard, and a small rectangular space gave way, moving inward with the sound of stone scraping against stone. The floor in front of us dropped about five inches, a depression that formed another rectangular shape.
“There it is, Olivera,” Whit said, grinning. He got onto his knees and carefully slid the pavement backward where it tucked neatly underneath, revealing narrow stone steps descending into a flat darkness.
“Do you want to go first, or shall I?”
My body thrummed with barely contained excitement. “Me.”
Whit smiled and held out his hand. “After you, then.”
CAPÍTULO VEINTIUNO
I inhaled deeply before scooting forward to place my feet inside the narrow opening. Then I slowly, and with much care, moved down, the flame of my candle giving enough illumination so I could make out the next step, and then the next. My pulse raced, and the magic in my blood sang in tune to my heartbeat. The walls were dusty and appeared to be made of packed dirt. Whit followed after me, staying close behind. His breath was a soothing presence, like the steady rise and fall of the ocean lapping against the Argentinian coast.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
“Of course,” I said.
“Most people are afraid of dark, enclosed spaces.”
“Oh, I’m afraid of dark, enclosed places,” I admitted. “But I wouldn’t miss this. Not for anything.”
I reached the last step and found myself in what appeared to be a small, square room. I moved the candle around until I found a narrow opening with a jagged edge, as if someone had blown through it.
“Dynamite?” I guessed.
Whit shook his head. “Too risky, it might cause structural damage. No, it was a tiny amount of gunpowder, targeting specific areas.”
I let out a whistle. “Isn’t thatstillrisky?”
Whit smiled slightly. “Not if you know what you’re doing.”
I looked at him quickly. “Was ityou?”
He bowed, an irreverent grin stretching his mouth.
I could only stare at him, gaping.
Whit cleared his throat, his gaze dropping. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was embarrassed. “It’s a simple chemical explosion. A child could do it.”
This man was made of nothing but self-deprecation and peril and cynicism. He knew how to handle explosives. “No, I don’t think achild—”
“Let’s move on, shall we?” Whit said, his eyes snapping to mine. “Ricardo found this place with your parents and Abdullah, and not long after, we blew through to the next room. You can imagine their disappointment when they discovered the rather plain presentation.”
So I was right. My fatherhadbeen here.
I kept my attention on the opening, itching to dart ahead. “I’m sensing there’s more you’re not telling me.”
“Your senses are to be admired,” he said wryly. “Ancient Egyptians used to create labyrinths at the burial sites in order to confuse or waylay tomb robbers. Therefore, this room is a ruse.”
