Thieves Till We Die (27 page)

‘I can live with feeling stupid,' said Jonah.

‘The mechanism will work,' muttered Coldhardt. He wasn't looking so good now, dabbing at his sweaty
face with a wet handkerchief. ‘It
must
. We have to get inside.'

And then, just as he spoke, the ground shook like a hundred giants were stamping their feet.

The power of the tremor was incredible. Patch yelled as he was thrown clear of the huge rock and landed face first in the tangled undergrowth. Jonah tried scrambling over to help him up, but it was like the ground itself was billowing in some subterranean gale; he couldn't stay upright. Thrown on to his back, shaken so hard his teeth rattled, he couldn't make sense of the picture perfect blue sky above; he felt it should seem ashen and black, like some terrible storm was breaking over them.

Con was clinging on to one of the cacao trees, and screamed as it started to uproot itself. Motti was rolling helplessly about like a drunk, clutching hold of the radio equipment. Where was Coldhardt?

Then the tremor passed as swiftly as it had begun. Coldhardt was right beside him, helping him up – and Patch was staring round in a daze.

‘I can feel something,' Motti said. ‘Ground's still shifting.'

Con stared round as if expecting something to jump out of the ground beside her. ‘It's different to that last tremor.'

‘Get over here,' Coldhardt snapped. ‘Now!'

‘Uh-oh.' Jonah looked at him. ‘The temple mechanism –?'

Then he was shaken to his knees as something huge pierced the overgrown surface of the wild, tangled grove. It was a great stone arrowhead, caked in mud,
pushing up through the ground. Motti and Con sprinted away from it, but the ground bucked beneath them and they fell. Jonah staggered forwards, grabbed hold of Con and hauled her back to her feet – in time to be knocked back off his. Together they scrambled away on all fours, clawing at the grass. Jonah saw Motti was making better progress, swearing as fast as he ran for cover.

The temple was still rising up, the noise was growing in volume, a grating, grinding, primeval roar from deep beneath the ground. Jonah cried out as the forest floor began to ripple and fold, like a great, grassy rug being pulled from under him. He was flung forwards, but there was nothing to fall against, the ground had fallen away and he was pitching through empty space …

He gasped as he hit a bank of mud heaved up from the colossal split in the earth and found himself tumbling down helplessly in a landslide. Pebbles showered over him, mud filled his mouth and got in his eyes so he couldn't see. Where was Con?
Please God don't let me be smothered
, he thought. He heard the creaking, thundering smash of trees toppling close by –
and don't let me be crushed
– and wiped the dirt from his face.

Just in time to see a tidal wave of mud and vegetation ploughing towards him.

Jonah didn't even have time to shout.

Desperately he ran for the nearest tree still standing, jumped up, grabbed for its thick, gnarled branches, and tried to haul himself up out of range. As the mudslide hit, the tree shook so hard it almost hurled him clear – but just, barely, Jonah managed to hold on.

Finally, with an ear-splitting, bone-grinding crash, the world stopped shaking and the landscape fell abruptly still. Jonah dropped down from his tree into the dry, pebbly mudbank, panting for breath. ‘Guys?' he called hoarsely. ‘You OK? Anyone?'

There was only silence in answer.

Tye supposed she should've expected as much – Traynor had got it right.

They'd retreated to a designated place of safety, out of range of the immediate area, he'd set off the bomb remotely, and here they were still in one piece. Apparently, the absence of any kind of sunken depression at ground level was good news – it meant the land vaporised in the explosion hadn't reached as far as the surface, that the effect had been contained by
all that sand and gravel and stuff. But Honor's binoculars had soon revealed the worst possible news – for Tye and Ramez at any rate. The temple had risen up from the ground.

Ramez didn't react as loud whoops and cheers and applause went up from the rest of the group. Honor just stared, her grin splitting her face wide open. ‘Incredible – for the mechanisms to still work after all these centuries …'

Traynor flung his arms about her. ‘Did you ever doubt it?'

‘This can't be happening,' Tye whispered to herself.

‘I'm gonna die,' said Ramez dully. ‘But 'least my nephews are gonna live. Yeah. They'll be OK.'

Honor looked over, a self-satisfied smile on her pallid face. ‘I do hope they don't drink from the tap.'

Tye frowned. ‘Meaning?'

‘Meaning Coatlicue is going to feast on the poison in men,' said Honor, ‘and in women and little children, too.'

Still catching his breath, Jonah stared in awe at the Temple of Life from Death in all its sinister glory, disgorged from deep within the earth. Even half-caked in soil, the dark majesty of the monument remained. Shaped like a pyramid, it stood as tall as a house. Row upon row of gruesome stone skulls had been carved into the base of the pyramid, and above them, steps had been cut into the sloping walls at precise intervals. Each was adorned with stylised stone reliefs of serpents, hummingbirds and jaguars, interspersed with false windows, presumably blocked up to stop the
mud getting in.

‘Guys!' he called again.
Please let them be all right
. ‘You need to see this. Come on out.'

‘Remarkable.' Jonah jumped at the sound of Coldhardt's voice behind him. The old man stepped out from behind a broad, twisted cacao tree that stood just clear of the ruptured earth, gazing up in wonder. ‘Truly remarkable.'

‘One word for it,' Jonah agreed.

Coldhardt gathered up chunks of porous white stone from the mudslide. ‘You see? Light, like pumice. Loads of the stuff, packed around the temple with dead branches and plant roots to form a light protective layer – to ensure rainfall drains away swiftly, so that the soil around it isn't weighed down.'

‘Easier to push up, I guess,' agreed Jonah, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘But that thing's still got to weigh tons! How could a bunch of primitive priests design a mechanism to lift something as big as that?'

Coldhardt's eyes bored into his own. ‘Perhaps they had help.'

It felt to Jonah as if a shadow had passed over the sun. ‘The presence?'

‘It's impressive engineering all right.' Motti had emerged cautiously from the cover of the trees, and Con and Patch were just behind him – muddy and scratched but otherwise unharmed. ‘But whoever built it messed up. That boulder they used to mark the spot – it's caved in the south-east corner of the temple.'

Jonah got up to look properly, and saw Motti was right. That corner of the pyramid had risen up right underneath the enormous boulder and, being unable
to shift it, the stonework had crazed and collapsed.

‘Perhaps it's not a mistake,' said Con slowly. ‘Perhaps it was designed that way.'

Coldhardt looked at her expectantly. ‘Go on.'

She shrugged. ‘Well, the priests must have constructed the temple underground, filling it as they went, yes? And then the temple was sealed up, with no way in – or out. So perhaps the rock wasn't just a marker. Perhaps it was designed to break open the temple as the building rose up.'

‘Sort of like a teaspoon cracking open an egg,' said Jonah.

‘A giant ten-ton teaspoon cracking an egg shaped like a pyramid,' Motti corrected him.

‘Certainly it's been recorded that Coatlicue's attendants sealed themselves inside with their goddess till death,' said Coldhardt, ignoring them both. ‘They would doubtless wish to be sure she could leave the temple.'

‘Or that the chosen ones the priests thought would come some day could get in,' Jonah suggested.

‘Either way, it's an ingenious theory, Con. Let us put it to the test, and see if an opening has appeared.'

Patch hung back, twiddling distractedly with the headphones round his neck. ‘Do we have to?'

‘Aw, c'mon, cyclops.' Motti affected a bit of a swagger as he led the way over the ridges of mud and debris to get to the temple entrance. ‘Where's your sense of adventure?'

Coldhardt turned to Patch. ‘Anything on the radio?'

‘Don't think it's workin' right. So bleedin' humid
here, I think the circuits have gone a bit funny.' Patch pulled the headphones wonkily on to his head and started twiddling with the muddy radio receiver. ‘I dropped it in the mud too, that can't have helped –' Suddenly he jumped and snatched his fingers away as if the dial had bitten him. ‘I'm getting something now, though,' he said, his voice high and wavery.

They listened. It was a rustling, crunching sort of noise.

‘Footsteps?' ventured Jonah.

‘Uh-huh.' Patch nodded. ‘Lots of them.'

‘Company's on its way,' said Motti grimly.

‘How long do we have?' asked Con.

Motti jogged over to the collapsed corner of the temple. ‘No way of knowing,' he called back. ‘But we're gonna need a while.'

‘What's up?' said Patch.

‘The designers
did
foul up. That boulder's completely mashed this part of the pyramid.' He pointed to a chunk of broken stonework. ‘You can see from the remains of this arch – there
was
an entrance there. But it's totally caved in.'

Coldhardt awkwardly scaled one of the higher furrows in the land to see. ‘Can we move the debris ourselves?'

‘Don't think so.' Motti gestured towards the jumble of cracked and shattered sandstone. ‘Can't see us shifting it without machinery.'

‘There has to be another entrance,' said Con desperately.

‘What,' Motti retorted, ‘you think maybe the priests climbed in through the roof and abseiled down?'

‘Check right round the pyramid,' Coldhardt roared, and Jonah and the others hurried to obey. ‘I shan't be cheated. I shan't be cheated now!'

Jonah skirted the perimeter, checking for any cracks in the sandstone. The rows of skulls seemed to stare at him as he searched, as if challenging him to find a way inside.

He ran into Con, Patch and Motti at the rear side of the pyramid. From their solemn faces, he didn't even bother to ask if they'd been successful. They trudged back to rejoin Coldhardt.

‘No joy,' said Patch. ‘How about plastic explosive?'

Coldhardt shook his head. ‘Too risky,' he said, a little more controlled now. ‘The noise of the explosion would alert Traynor and his followers to our presence here. With the element of surprise, we stand a chance of outwitting them. But if they come in expecting trouble …' He flashed a brief, cheerless smile. ‘As you may have observed, there are rather more of them than there are of us.'

‘Thirteen, minimum,' Jonah agreed.

‘Maybe more if they bring the bruisers from the penthouse,' Patch added.

‘We've played with worse odds,' said Con defiantly.

Coldhardt dabbed distractedly at his face and neck. ‘Of course, so many people stand a far better chance of clearing a way through …'

Motti sighed. ‘Right. Traynor and his priests will be able to get inside where we can't.'

‘Then we can hang back and let them get inside,' Patch said. ‘Let them take all the risks –'

‘And all the treasure,' Con put in sourly.

‘– then follow them inside and sort them all out,' he concluded optimistically.

‘What, with three of them for every one of us? We won't stand a chance!' Jonah sank back heavily against the nearest mudpile. ‘Maybe we should just face it. Everything we've done, everything we've been through – it's all been for nothing!'

Tye felt an instinctive dread at the sight of the temple, towering over the tops of those few trees left standing. Huge piles of soil, stone and sticks spewed from great gaping wounds in the earth. It looked like a war had been fought here.

Traynor signalled that his followers should hold back, but they had already stopped in silent wonder, even Honor.

‘You see?' Traynor breathed. ‘It's worked. The temple has been raised.'

‘Imagine the power required!' squeaked Douglas, polishing his glasses, impatient to scrutinise the temple properly. ‘The foundations must have been built upon special platforms propelled upwards somehow. Some kind of fluid-based system, primitive hydraulics? I don't understand –'

‘We
shall
understand, Douglas,' Traynor assured him. ‘Coatlicue will be stirring inside.' He turned to address his priests. ‘Our faith has been rewarded. We have shaken the earth and reclaimed the temple from the underworld. Already we have wrested life from death.' He walked over to Ramez and placed paternal hands on his shoulders. ‘And with the heart and blood of this boy, we shall strengthen and sustain Coatlicue.
We will give her the energy she needs to fully awaken.'

‘Please, I …' Ramez looked at him, eyes clouded over, like he didn't understand. ‘I can't do this.'

Traynor smiled almost kindly. ‘Anyone can die, boy. It's easy.' He turned to his bodyguards. ‘Sedate him.'

‘No!' Tye shouted. She started forwards but Xavier restrained her.

‘Her as well,' said Traynor casually. ‘For what I have in mind, we'll need her docile.'

One of the bodyguards pushed a pill into Ramez's mouth, clamped one hand about his cheeks and used the other to push a water bottle to his open lips. Ramez swallowed mechanically. ‘Thanks,' he said quietly.

‘No!' Tye squirmed in Xavier's grip as the same man approached with another pill. His thick fingers pushed into her mouth, and she bit down on them hard. He grunted with pain and cuffed her round the face. For a moment she was stunned – and the pill was pressed into her mouth. The neck of the water bottle bashed against her teeth, dug into her gums as water sloshed out. But she managed to keep the pill beneath her tongue, only pretending she'd swallowed it down.