The Missing Monarch (13 page)

Then a few more pebbles
rained down.

Thad stumbled backward as the stone he’d inadvertently
dislodged shifted inward, the loosened rocks behind it giving way under hundreds
of years of pressure. Thad watched in disbelief as the crumbling wall rained
down.

At the last moment, he jumped away from the avalanche he’d
triggered. But he wasn’t quite quick enough. Falling stones, ranging in size
from marble to baseball, and some even larger, poured from the widening gap,
quickly filling the narrow tunnel, burying him up to his chest.

Dust filled his nostrils and coated his lips. He pinched his
eyes shut. When he opened them, he realized his flashlight had been buried, as
well. In the darkness every sound was amplified. The pattering of the last
loosened stones
gradually gave way to silence.

Thad blinked, straining his eyes to see, but there was no light
to aid his sight. His right arm, which held the flashlight, was completely
buried. He’d pulled his left hand up toward the ceiling at the last minute, and
now his hand rested above the pile of rocks.

He was buried, the crush of stones so tight he struggled to
breathe. Searching
by feel with his one free hand, Thad explored the mound that
all but covered him. The stones toward the top were large and heavy, and he
shoved at the nearest one, feeling feeble as the angle of his arm permitted him
to apply only the strength of his triceps and forearm muscles.

Pushing at the rock, he managed to get it to budge just an inch
before he gave up, panting.
What had he done? Why had he stopped to inspect the
side of the tunnel? Granted, he was an engineer, and the marvel of ancient
handiwork had intrigued him, but he was supposed to be on a mission.

He was supposed to claim the scepter.

And now he was underground, buried under a pile of rocks from
which he might never be able to work himself free, the cold of the stones
already seeping past his skin, cramping his immobile limbs. He was stuck—buried,
quite possibly forever. And even if he did manage to get free after days and
days, Octavian would be long gone with Peter by then.

What if he couldn’t work himself free? The tunnel was a secret
known only to himself and his father. His father was in a coma and might never
wake up—and if
he did, he might not remember anything, certainly not such a
trivial detail like the tunnel.

Perhaps his family members would simply think he’d sneaked away
again, off to some other corner of the earth, while all the time there he was
beneath them, fighting for his breath in a tunnel that seemed more and more like
a tomb.

Monica, of course, would assume he’d failed
her again.

The thought pinched his heart even harder than the prognosis of
being buried alive, left to die a slow death from cold and thirst. Monica would
never know that he hadn’t meant to fail her, that he’d had every intention of
trying
to get her son back, even if the odds had
been against him from the start.

Monica would think he was a coward who had run away.
She would
never know how much she’d meant to him or how the memories of the love they’d
shared had warmed him in the frozen north, keeping him safe through dark nights
that lasted for months.

He felt a tear trail its way down the dust on his cheek as he
recalled the sight of her, sitting tense on the plane, hoping against hope that
she’d get Peter back. What had she
said then?

The earth is the Lord’s and everything in
it
.

Like the fissure in the stone, the words cracked through the
hardened walls inside him. Did everything on earth, even under the earth, really
belong to God? Could God really move mountains, even mountains made of fallen
rocks?

Thad rebelled against the thought. He’d put his trust in God
before, praying
daily that God would release him from the prison of the frozen
north, that God would set him free from exile and return him to his family and
everyone he loved.

But God hadn’t budged.

The earth is the Lord’s and everything in
it
.

If that were true, God should have seen him, even on the oil
rig north of Alaska, and answered his prayers. But God had remained silent.

A cry for help rose inside him, but Thad pinched it back. What
good would it do to pray now? No one could hear him. Nothing could come of
it.

The pressure on his heart grew harder, but he told himself it
was just from the stones. There was nothing to be gained by trusting God. There
was absolutely nothing that could come from crying out for help. No one would
hear him. To believe otherwise was as absurd as thinking that He really
cared.

God didn’t care, and there was no one to help him.

So Thad kept his lips sealed shut.

* * *

Monica paused at the intersection, debating which way to
go. No matter how closely she listened, she couldn’t hear Thad moving up ahead,
nor could she detect any sign of his footprints on the
solid stone floor.
Perhaps she should turn around while she still knew the way? She’d seen at least
one spur branching off from the main line. How many more paths bisected hers
ahead? If she got lost in the tunnels she might never find her way out.

Suddenly she heard a rumble like falling stones ahead, and
instinctively she scrambled backward. The narrow tunnel was spooky
enough.
Hollow rattling and falling stones made it a thousand times worse.

Pointing her flashlight back the way she came, she pondered
turning around.

After all, if the tunnel gave way and she was never heard from
again, who would be there for Peter, assuming they ever got him back? The simple
fact was, she didn’t like the tunnel, and any excuse to get out was good
enough
for her.

And yet, Thad was up there somewhere, alone. He’d probably
caused the rockfall she’d heard. What if it had closed off the path between her
and him? Then there would be no point in moving forward again.

She might as well turn and go back.

Torn between moving onward and turning around, Monica stood
still and prayed silently for God to guide her
steps.

How long she stood like that, exhausted from a full day, she
wasn’t sure. It felt like a long time, and her prayer for guidance blended into
prayers for Peter’s safety, and prayers for Thad, that God would keep him
safe.

Then she pointed the beam of her flashlight back the way she’d
come, and started retracing her steps as she made her way toward the hidden
room
in the palace, and ultimately, to the soft bed that waited for her.

A creaking noise behind her stopped her moments later, and she
wondered if the tunnel wasn’t about to cave in again, this time possibly worse.
About to make a run for it, she heard the creaking noise again.

But it wasn’t so much a creaking noise as it was a creaky
voice, dry and raspy and worn.

She had to listen carefully to understand what it said.

Help
.

With a start, she realized it was Thad’s voice.

She pointed her flashlight back down the main branch of the
tunnel, and ran toward her husband’s cries for help.

* * *

Thad felt foolish crying out, pinned as he was in
darkness, with only partial use of one arm. He felt almost foolish enough to
laugh at himself, but then he realized the laughter rising inside him didn’t
come from embarrassment at all.

Light filtered in through the cracks in his heart, easing the
burden he’d been carrying. It made no sense that he should laugh, not with
everything so bleak and the tunnel in utter darkness, but the relief he felt
inside his heart was palpable. Somehow, in crying
out for help, he’d admitted
that he couldn’t do it all himself.

That he needed God’s help.

That he believed God could help him.

Somehow, in crying out for help, he’d eased the burden that had
weighed him down since he’d run off to save Lydia all by himself.

Perhaps he didn’t have to save Lydia all by himself.

Perhaps he didn’t have to be alone anymore.

And perhaps it didn’t matter, because the realization had come
too late. He was alone, buried by his own stubborn stupidity in a tomb carved
from darkness.

“Help!”
He raised the cry again,
and this time he heard something more than his own solitary voice echoing
back.

“I’m coming. Stay right there.”

The laughter spilled out of him, running with his tears in
dusty trails down his face until he realized he was sobbing like a child. He saw
a light bobbing toward him through his streaming tears, and he called out, “I’m
not going anywhere.”

Monica picked her way up the mound of rocks toward him,
pointing her flashlight beam upward so that it reflected back indirect light,
illuminating the pile. She nestled it into place between
a couple of larger
stones, then set to work scooping rocks out of the way, letting them slide down
the pile behind her.

“Careful—don’t dislodge any more of the tunnel wall,” he
cautioned.

“I don’t think there’s room for anything more to go anywhere,
even if it wanted to be dislodged,” she panted, hauling some of the larger
stones down the slope of the pile.

She didn’t ask him how he’d gotten in his predicament, or chide
him for being foolish enough to venture through the tunnel alone. He watched her
work in silence, marveling that she’d come to him from out of nowhere, even
though he’d insisted on making the journey alone.

When she got the rocks clear from his left arm so he could use
it to help, he started pushing rocks
out of the way with her.

Together, they sent a large block skidding down the pile.

While Monica caught her breath, Thad settled into the reality
of the hope her presence provided.

“Thank you,” he told her.

“It’s no problem.” She was already at work pushing another
boulder. “I’ll need a hand with this one, too.”

As he applied as much push as he could leverage
against the
stubborn rock, he clarified, “Thank you for not listening when I said you
couldn’t come with me. Thank you for following me.” The rock came loose from its
stubborn hold and slid down the slope, pushing several smaller stones ahead of
it.

Thad tried to help Monica as much as he could, but there was
little he could do in his position, and his whole body
felt bruised and achy
cold, so instead he watched her work steadily to free him, and felt gratitude
swelling in his injured heart.

As her face moved close to his, he imagined reaching for her,
pulling her into his embrace, kissing her as he had kissed her so long ago.

Instead he did what he could to shove the rocks away, feeble
though his efforts seemed. But with
Monica’s help, the hill of rocks slid
gradually lower.

And then he could move his torso and twist, and soon the
slender beams from his buried flashlight pierced their way up through the
swirling dust, widening like the rivers that had once split the peninsula into
islands, until the light filled the tunnel as the sea had covered the sand.

Once she had his other arm
free, he was able to move rocks with
both hands, forcing the blood to flow again through his numb limbs, feeling
sensation return in stinging spears down his wrists, through his hands, to the
tips of his fingers. Finally he was able to reach the water bottle tucked into
the pocket of his right leg. The plastic had been dented but wasn’t broken, and
the cool water washed
the thick dust from his throat.

He handed Monica the bottle and she drank quickly before
getting right back to work.

Finally he could lift his knees, and stomped his way upward
until the stones had shifted and slipped into the places where his feet had
been, and he stood on top of them, feeling light-headed as the blood once again
flowed freely to his toes.

“Let’s get moving.” He pointed his flashlight beam toward
Dorsi, and prayed that by walking, he’d recover full feeling in his feet and
legs.

“Are you sure you want to go on?” Monica looked hesitant.

“I’ve got to recover the scepter.”

“But what if there’s another cave-in? What if it’s water next
time?”

She’d no doubt spotted the trickling wetness at other points
along the tunnel, and guessed they ran beneath the sea.

“I brought this one upon myself,” he admitted. “But with you
here to keep me from poking my hands where they shouldn’t be, we should be
fine.”

She smiled at him. Even with her eyes rimmed with dust, she was
beautiful.

“Shall we go, then?” Thad was eager to get moving before he
acted on the urge to kiss
her. Ever since he’d relented to calling out for help,
ever since hope had sprung inside him at the realization that Monica was there
and he wasn’t going to die, everything inside him had gone all mushy. Part of
him wanted to pray and sing and kiss her and dance around like a fool.

And if he didn’t get moving, he just might give in to those
impulses.

Fortunately,
Monica headed forward with him, and they trotted
along beside each other, moving as quickly as they dared without dislodging any
more stones. To his relief, it seemed the farther they went, the more solid the
tunnel became. The worst damage appeared to be near the start where the
shoreline had broken away from the islands.

Finally, they reached a set of stone steps that
twisted upward
at a steep climb, and Thad was forced to stoop down low in places as the ceiling
curved around above them. The spiral narrowed until it came to rest at a stone
ledge, and a wall blocked the way completely.

“Now what?” Monica pointed her flashlight at each corner, which
settled flush against the surrounding stones as though the way ended
completely.

Thad caught his breath and tried to remember. He’d only come
this way once, and it had been starting from the other side.