Rising

This
is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events
portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are
used fictitiously.

RISING

Copyright
© 2011 by Stephanie Judice

All
rights reserved.
 
No part of this book
may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or
reviews. For information address
StudioKae
Publishers: Voice at [email protected].

For my
beloved, Kevin

Acknowledgements

      
This book, the first in the
Saga of the
Setti
series, has found its way to publication on a long and winding road.
 
My gratitude is great to many.
 
First, I must thank that group of students
who urged me on while I was writing the book and kept me working with their
persistent pleas for new chapters.
 
Cheers to you—Alex, Taylor,
Kayci
, Kali, Laura,
Zach, Drake, and Seth.
 
Thank you to
Logan for your contribution of the name ‘Vanquisher’ during that very special
fire drill one afternoon in the school parking lot.
 
Your name stuck.
 
To Sarah
Trosclair
(then Metz) and Matthew Smith, I appreciate both of your diligent early edits
and encouragement.
 
To my niece and
literary kindred spirit,
Jessen
Judice, thank you for
the many wonderful book talks and inspiration over
Frappuccinos
and chocolate cake. A special thank you to my dear friend, Cheryl
Freyou
, who has ever been my number one cheerleader, in
writing and in life. I must also recognize Devon Poole whose amazing skills
continue to transform my words into art. Deep gratitude goes to James
Robichaux
for his amazing vision and artistry in the cover
design. A special thank you to Morgan and Alex for bringing Clara and Gabe to
life. And, to my managing editor Karen
Theriot-Eileraas
,
for rekindling our friendship and starting us on this thrilling journey—may it
be long and fruitful.
 
I must also thank
my parents simply for their unconditional love and constant belief in me.
 
And, finally, I thank my husband Kevin and
children—Justin, Jacob, Noelle and Jackson—for sacrificing family time so that
I might pursue this little dream of mine.
 
May God continue to bless me and all those in my world—both the real one
and the imagined.

Part 1:

The Awakening

“Deep
into that darkness peering,

long I
stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal

ever
dared to dream before.”

--Edgar
Allan Poe

Powdery dust floated
into the air, revealing the carven images etched into the surface of the
ancient piece of pottery.
 
Dr. David
Malcolm brushed the artifact gently then blew once more to reveal the full
picture that had been hidden for centuries.
 
He could not believe his eyes.

“This is astounding,”
he reflected quietly.

Click.
 
His assistant and translator, Theresa
Miguez
, snapped a photograph of the bizarre artifact.
 
She had asked very few questions since the
moment they had crossed into this mountainous jungle in the heart of Cuba, but
she was instantly curious at the sight of this pottery.

“What is it, Dr.
Malcolm?” she asked.

“These figures are like
nothing I have ever seen before.
 
Look at
this one here.”

He pointed to the
central figure, which appeared to be a giant human.
 
It was double in size next to the others, but
abnormally thin.
 
It had no facial
features at all except for a gaping, rounded mouth.
 
The smaller human figures to each side lay
prostrate on the ground.

“This appears to be
their god,” said Dr. Malcolm, pointing to the unnatural figure at the center,
“but the surrounding people do not necessarily appear to be worshipping the
god.
 
They seem—”

“Dead,” said Theresa
bluntly.

“Dr. Malcolm!
 
Over here,” yelled a disheveled man jogging
toward them who was besmeared with black dirt.
 
His glasses continued to slip off the bridge of his nose.
 
“I’m so glad you’ve finally arrived.
 
How was the flight?”

“Well, from Miami on
out, it was terrible if you must know.
 
We were held in customs for hours until they could finally verify with
your university in Brazil that I was actually who I said I was.”

“Sorry to hear that,”
the young man said.
 
“I’m Abraham.”

“It’s nice to meet you
face to face,” said Dr. Malcolm, shaking his hand, then wiping the dirt that
passed between them on his khaki pants.
 
“I must say that your description and photographs of the artifacts far
exceeded my expectations.”

“Yes,” agreed Abraham,
almost smirking at the strange piece of pottery Dr. Malcolm was still holding
in his hand. “But, I must take you to Dr. Hernandez right away.
 
He is down in the pit.”

“Aren’t most of your
discoveries right here?”

Dr. Malcolm gestured to
the array of lined artifacts he had not yet had the pleasure to investigate
closely enough—tables of rudimentary spearheads and utensils, fragments of
pottery, pieces of ornate cobalt and copper jewelry.

“No, sir.
 
This isn’t what we called you for.
 
There’s much more, but you have to see it for
yourself.”

Theresa clicked a few
more pictures before following Dr. Malcolm and Abraham along a well-worn trail
into the dense jungle.
 
The foliage
thickened, blocking out the sun high above them.
 
Theresa tripped, grabbing her Nikon camera
before it touched the ground.
 
Dr.
Malcolm knelt down and helped her up quickly, trying to keep up with their
speedy leader.
 
Suddenly, they stepped
into an opening in the jungle, revealing a vast circular space 200 meters
across.
 
However, the canopy of green
overhead blocked all sunlight from finding this hidden archaeological
treasure.
 
Theresa paused behind Dr.
Malcolm.
 
The entire formation appeared
to be charred earth; blackened soil that had been scarred long ago, where no
vegetation was able to take root.

Assistants to Dr.
Hernandez spread wide, digging in patchwork formation along the edges of the
site.
 
They had not taken notice of the
two newcomers. Click. Click.
 
Theresa
snapped a few shots of them diligently at work.
 
A shadow appeared at the corner of her lens.
 
She glanced sideways, but no one, nothing was
there.
 
It was sweltering here even in
the shade, but something made the hair on her arms stand up.
 
She stared into the cover of trees, thinking
an animal might have fled across the clearing into the brush.
 
There was no sign of anything at all.

“This way.
 
Please, follow me,” urged Abraham.

Theresa followed them
toward the center of the site where she first saw make-shift stairs descending
downward.

“You have excavated
straight down?” Dr. Malcolm asked, perplexed.

“Not exactly.
 
When we started digging, one of our men fell
through a hollow space.
 
He found, well,
come and see for yourself.”

Theresa stared down
into the pit after them, wiped her brow with the back of her sleeve then
stepped cautiously into the abyss.
 
She
felt a strange sense of dread, but shrugged it off as her own fear of tight
spaces.
 
She crossed herself quickly then
descended step after step, seeing only a hazy hint of light below.
 
At long last, she reached a rocky, earthen
floor covered over by wooden planks for easy passage.
 
It had the look of an old mine, with gas
lanterns hung at regular intervals along the dark corridor.
 

“Dr. Hernandez is this
way, at the wall.”

“The wall?” asked Dr.
Malcolm ahead of her, but received no reply.

They walked down the
corridor, passing other workers digging with trowels and whisking dirt away in
niches every few feet.
 
The cold dampness
seeped into her skin.
 
Theresa felt as if
she had entered a tomb.
 
She peered into
a rather well-lit recess where several workers were digging even further down
into the pit that had a seemingly endless amount of charred soil.
 
A sturdy man with a grim expression carried
out a misshapen, blackened boulder the size of a small child.

“Have you tested the
soil?
 
Why is it so black?” she asked
Abraham a few steps ahead.

“Our preliminary
samples of the topsoil showed nothing more than what it appears to be—black
dirt.
 
As we’ve dug deeper, we’ve found
an overabundance of one element appearing in the samples.”

“What’s that?” she
asked.

“Sulfur,” he replied,
pushing his glasses back into place.

“That’s bizarre,” said
Dr. Malcolm as they resumed their walk deeper down the corridor.

“That’s what we
thought, but we keep finding more and more concentrations of it.
 
We’re sending some of the rocks from down
here as well.
 
Shipping them out today,
actually.”

Theresa tripped
again.
 
Dr. Malcolm was too absorbed to
notice this time.
 
She looked down at her
feet and found a small malformed rock.
 
It appeared to be a chip off of a larger black one.
 
Thinking someone was standing just behind
her, she glanced around.
 
Again, no
one.
 
Her mind was playing games with
her.
 
She quickly pocketed the find.
 
Her background in geology compelled her to do
a few studies of her own once back in her laboratory in Albuquerque.
 

“Hurry, Theresa,”
called Dr. Malcolm, winded by the shallow air in the tunnel.

Finally, Abraham led
them through a narrow niche into a chamber, well-lit by dozens of
lanterns.
 
Theresa stared in awe at the
far wall of the cavity, completely covered with large pictographs.
 
The left side of the wall had been carefully
brushed, revealing a perfectly preserved history of a primitive people.
 
Two workers continued to brush away the
layers of time along the right.

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

Theresa jumped, not
seeing the rather short bespectacled man standing next to them.

“I’m Dr.
Hernandez.
 
I am pleased that you’ve
come.” His words rolled with a thick Hispanic accent.

“I—I had no idea you
would show me this,” stammered the awestruck Dr. Malcolm.
 
“When Abraham e-mailed me pictures of your
artifacts, he had not included this.”

“No, Dr. Malcolm.
 
I wanted you to see it for yourself.
 
While my expertise is in geology, I still
know enough about anthropology to realize that this is a spectacular find.
 
When we started this project, we had not
planned on finding an underground city at all.
 
I wanted your professional input before I prepared a report for my
sponsor in Brazil.”