Treasured Lies (2 page)

Archer saluted his old mate. ‘Calm down, big fella, you'll pop your stitches.' Jimmy huffed and Archer turned to Rosalina. ‘After you, madam.'

Rosalina blew Jimmy a kiss, pulled her mask up to her face, pushed the regulator back into her mouth, inflated her vest, took one step forward and then, with a giant stride, dropped into the ocean. The warm water hugged her in its welcome and seconds later she bobbed up to the surface and gave the ‘okay' signal to Archer who was waiting for her to be all clear. Archer plopped in beside her and replicated the ‘okay' signal, to Jimmy this time. Even with the regulator concealing his mouth she knew Archer was smiling. The halo of gold flecks that danced around his coffee-coloured irises gave it away.

Archer flicked his thumb downwards to indicate it was time to descend. She let the air out of her vest and gradually lowered beneath the surface. With one hand on the anchor line, she followed Archer towards the sandy bottom. The water was a comfortable twenty-four degrees and visibility was excellent. She guessed she could see at least thirty metres into the deep blue around her.

Right from the moment she submersed Rosalina could see the coral-covered ocean floor. A sense of contentment embraced her, taking her into a world that was as leisurely and tranquil as it was colourful. Pinks, blues and purples were bountiful and the more she descended the more prolific the colours became. Fish were in abundance too, blue fish no bigger than a Brazil nut darted about in a large synchronised school. When one shot left, hundreds of the little fish instantly copied. Next second they'd all dart to the right as if all their moves were choreographed. It was an amazing natural spectacle. Larger yellow fish, decorated with black spots, chased each other about the coral, darting in and out of the plant life as if playing a game of tag.

Before she even reached the bottom, she saw the pair of board shorts Archer had tied to the coral the last time he was here. She remembered laughing at him as he tugged those bright yellow shorts over his fins. That had pretty much been when the fun had ended though. Not long after that, her world changed forever. Realising she was biting down on her mouthpiece, she tried to shove the incident from her mind. The incident. That's what they'd started to call it. What else do you call the moment you killed a man to save the people you love?

Archer caught her attention, pointed to the wafting board shorts and gave her the thumbs up. Obviously her fiancé wasn't sharing the same apprehension she was. She followed him to the marker and as she neared she noticed the change to the sandy bottom. The last time Archer was here, he and Jimmy had dug several valuable items from the sand and the decent sized divot they'd made was still there. She had thought the steady current would've removed any signs of their last visit. What it told her though, was that this area was quite well protected. Hugging this close to the shores of Greek's Anafi Island sheltered this location more than she'd realised. This also explained why the precious pieces they'd already discovered were in pristine condition, even after being submerged in sea water and buried within the fine sand for nearly seven hundred years.

Rosalina followed Archer to the sandy bottom and knelt beside him. She imagined all manner of precious treasures just begging to be found amongst the grains of sand at her feet. The desire to start digging right there and then was like putting a six-tiered gateau cake, laced with cream, chocolate and liquor in front of her, giving her a fork, and then telling her not to taste it. That was her idea of cruel torture.

But this dive was a planning one. A dive to mark out the area, dividing it into bite size pieces to ensure a systematic approach to their search. Archer was an expert at this, having done it many times over. Rosalina, though, had never laid gridlines before. Archer briefed her before the dive on the process, and right now all she had to do was wait for his signals and follow his lead.

Archer pushed a spike into the soft sand and with a hammer he'd tugged from the net bag at his hip he then drove the spike deeper. Satisfied it was secure, he tied one end of white cord around the spike and, with a signal for Rosalina to follow, he pushed off and swam away from the marker. After a distance of two metres or so he stopped and drove another spike into the ground, and then tied the cord around it too. Rosalina's job was simple, she was there to monitor the surroundings, and make sure Archer stuck to their strict dive time limits. He'd blown the dive limits once before and the consequences had been devastating. To be fair to Archer though, he was only an eleven-year-old boy at that time.

A circular shadow moving slowly across the sand made her look up. The source of the shadow was easy to spot. Above her, cruising along in the current, was an enormous sea turtle. The largest she'd ever seen, its shell had to be at least as big as her torso. Despite its size the beautiful creature moved with the grace of an eagle, gliding its fins through the water as if it had all the time in the world. Maybe it did. A big turtle like that had obviously been doing something right.

Archer waved his hand in front of her face, dragging her attention from the turtle. He indicated he was moving onto the next point. The process was repeated over and over and fifty minutes of their dive time lapsed quickly. Rosalina caught his attention and indicated they had ten minutes left on the dive. Archer tugged his regulator from his mouth, blew her a kiss, then grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the first square they'd marked out in the grid.

When he dropped to his knees at the edge of the hole he and Jimmy had made last time, she knew he'd spend the last ten minutes digging. Rosalina had been surprised he'd lasted this long. After what he'd pulled from the sand last time, it must have been killing him not to start digging the instant they revisited the spot.

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, then sunk his fingers into the soft sand and dug back a handful. Rosalina began at her own spot and pushed her gloved hand into the sand too, right up to her wrist. Just the thought of discovering a piece of treasure: gold, silver or a gem of any kind that had been buried beneath the sand for seven centuries set her heart racing.

She'd done it before, in this very spot. The large plate she'd removed, heavy with solid gold and etched with intricate patterns, was priceless. At this very moment it was secured within the safe on Archer's yacht. Along with the fourteen other items Jimmy and Archer had removed last time they were here.

Rosalina felt something, a thread or maybe a cord. She brushed back the sand and waved the dispersed particles away in the current. The cord revealed itself quickly and the gold glimmered in the filtered sunlight like the birth of a dawn over the ocean. What she'd thought was a cord was in fact a chain. The links were significant in size, equal to her little finger or, dare she believe, even bigger? She hooked her fingers beneath the chain and teased it from the sand. Rosalina pulled and wriggled the chain with equal measure but it refused to leap from its clutches. Digging at a frantic pace now, inch by inch along the chain, she found herself holding her breath. It was the jolt she needed. One of the most dangerous things to do when scuba diving was to hold your breath. She inhaled a few calming breaths and took the moment to wave Archer over.

Archer was at her side in a flash and his eyes twinkled when he saw the gold links. They worked together now, she pulled on the roped gold while he brushed at the sand. Moments later she noticed a link in the chain that was different to the others. It was thicker, wider and smoother. Archer must have seen it as well because he stopped with the frantic brushing and slowed down to a more delicate touch.

The thicker link was attached to an inverted dome, at least that's what was gradually being revealed. All of a sudden it released from the sand in a swirl of debris and Rosalina fell backwards. She grappled to get back upright, desperate to see what it was. When she looked up Archer was cupping it in his hands as if it were a sleeping kitten. What she had thought was an inverted dome was actually the crown of a man's head on a gold bust. It was too big to be a necklace, but she couldn't work out what else it could be.

The bust filled Archer's hands and was crafted with incredible detail. The hair was symbolised with dozens of gold rosettes, curled together with detailed precision, and the beard was thousands, maybe tens of thousands, of tiny pearls of gold. By contrast the face was smooth gold, created with obvious expert craftsmanship and in the filtered sunlight, it came alive in Archer's hands. Rosalina frowned when Archer pointed at the horns on the statue's head. She hadn't noticed them until then. They were a strange addition to the beautiful figurine. But then she realised this little man was most likely a statue of some kind of mythical god.

She looked at Archer and their eyes met. He oozed boyish exuberance. Twinkling eyes, wriggling eyebrows, and although she couldn't see his mouth, his dimples were a sure sign he was smiling. He tugged his regulator from his mouth and she did the same. They shared an underwater kiss, not lingering, or sensual, or erotic. But a fun kiss to celebrate their lucky find. When he pulled back he poked his tongue at her before he put his regulator back in his mouth. She did the same and when she looked at her dive watch, she was shocked to note they'd gone over their dive time by three minutes.

Rosalina shoved her dive watch before Archer's mask, drawing his eyes to the time. He nodded and handed the golden statue to her. She grasped the figurine and threaded it and the chain into the net bag at her hip. Then she signalled ‘boat' and together they pushed off the ocean floor and glided towards the surface. Five metres from the fresh air, they clung to the anchor rope as they waited out their decompression for five minutes.

As she waited there, watching an abundance of fish scoot about, another giant turtle, as big as the last, cruised past her. It came so close she could actually see it blink. It was as if the ancient creature was winking at her. Rosalina felt very welcome in the turtle's home. It always amazed her how unafraid sea creatures were in her presence. Whenever she dived she felt a true sense of contentment and belonging.

Time was up. Archer cupped her elbow and with a gentle kick they glided to the surface. They popped into the open air and the instant she dropped the regulator from her mouth Archer was laughing, cheering and kissing her all at once.

Chapter 3

Nox woke with a start. This time he opened his eyes without hesitation. Every movement of his eyes was a gritty slicing action. Through his blurry tears he scoured his surroundings. He was still on his side. Still trapped in a numb state of inertia. And still surrounded by blackness. The faint glow beneath the door had barely changed and he hoped that meant he hadn't been out for long.

He remembered the creature that had scampered across the floor and as he searched his memory for an answer to what it was, he felt a presence in the room with him. Fear stung at his stomach like a nesting wasp as he searched about, looking for a reason behind his sudden panic. But there was nothing. Nothing but the whistling wind that cut through the silence like an ice pick. It was the first sound he'd heard since he'd woken earlier. It was unnatural, eerie, and for the umpteenth time he wondered where the hell he was. Why was he all alone? Why wasn't he in hospital? Surely whoever put him here, wherever the hell here was, must have noticed his condition.

In the dim light, he stared at his outstretched fingers, willing them to move. Suddenly they did. With stiff jolting movements they curled and straightened as if they'd been shocked to life. Nox took a moment to let the relief sink in. He concentrated on his arm next, urging it to lift. It did, and the surprising ease with which it happened had him believe he would be alright.

He pushed up from his side, but a jagged razor blade of pain rippled from his lower back. He howled this time, torturing his throat with the scream. Nox fell back to his side and clawed at the wood beneath him, begging the agony to go away. It was an eternity before it subsided and Nox could breathe again. It was even longer before he dared risk moving once more.

While he lay there, pinned down by fear, he begged for recall, seeking something, anything that would make sense of what was happening. What he got was a crazy concoction of events. Pain, blood, gold and water were the constant. None of it made any sense.

This time when he raised his arms, they moved slowly. He reached up to his face first, touching his eyes. Crusty salt, or maybe sand, lined his eyelids. He brushed it away, flicking it out from his eyelashes. He turned his attention to his cheeks which, like his eyes, were covered in the fine grit. As he wiped it away, his skin began to crawl with fire. That's when he realised the sharp grains were salt. He scrubbed his face now, desperate for relief to this new pain. Nox gasped and stared wide-eyed when he saw blood on his fingers. He was struck frozen with disbelief, but the horror at what he was seeing attacked like a hunting leopard. It was an assault to his senses, pain was king, propelling him to a threshold he didn't know he had. He bit down on his knuckles, literally forcing himself to stop rubbing.

It took several heartbeats, but the pain did subside to a degree, or maybe he just became accustomed to it. It was several more minutes before he resumed his excruciating exploration. Now, with trembling fingers and a delicate touch, he felt his face, starting at his forehead, down his nose and over his cheeks. It was like examining someone else's skin. Scabbed, peeling, swollen. None of it felt real.

His lips felt foreign too. They were puffy slabs of meat, cracked and painful. He tasted the blood now and with a mixture of horror and relief he sucked on the moisture, grateful for the salve to his cracked tongue.

Nox carried on the self-examination. Inch by inch he rolled his fingers over his body, assessing the source of the throbbing pain in his back.

What he discovered set his heart to explode.