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"The boulder. I told you that." I approach the rim of our rocky ledge and lean forward a touch to study the big rock. "The map has given us clues and even two landmarks—the pyramid cliff, and now this boulder. It has to mean something."
Munro sets his hands on his hips and squints at me. "A boulder has to mean something, eh? I've seen lots of large rocks that have no significance whatsoever, other than being in my way."
"You think my idea is silly, but you were quite willing to hike up that steep hill based on zero evidence. I want to examine the boulder, and I do have evidence to support that decision."
Munro stares at me for a moment, then sighs and throws his hands up. "I surrender. But how do you suggest we examine that rock? It's in the river."
"We have ropes, don't we?"
"Aye." He studies me with his eyes narrowed even more. Then his face goes blank. After a moment, he shuts his eyes and groans. "I am not letting you jump into the water to 'examine' a boulder. The current is too swift. You'd get swept away. I cannae guarantee even ropes could keep you from getting dragged under."
"I'm willing to take that risk."
Errol approaches me and glances down at the big rock. "I'll do it."
"But this was my idea."
"I know. But I have experience with rock climbing and swimming in rough waters, not to mention free diving. I should be the one to do it."
He does make a good point. I haven't gone swimming in a pool very many times. As much as I want to be the one who inspects the boulder, I know Errol is right.
"Okay," I tell him. "You've got the job."
Munro grunts. "Aye, he's the only one barmy enough to try it."
Errol gets his life jacket, and Munro ties a rope around his waist. That should protect him, but he's still in danger. And he's doing this for me. I could kiss him for that, even while I wish he wouldn't do it. Errol jumps into the water, and thanks to his life jacket, he stays afloat as he paddles across the thirty feet or so to the boulder. The slab of rock must measure about thirty feet in diameter too, so Errol climbs onto it while Munro unreels just enough rope to let his cousin do that. He hunts around, searching for any sign of a clue.
Yeah, that's such a specific mission I gave him. Find me a clue. But Errol has spent years working as a treasure hunter, and I have complete faith in his ability to discover signs that might aid our expedition. But the more he crawls around on the boulder, the more I worry he won't find anything and we'll need to start over, deciphering the map again in hopes of spotting what we'd missed before.
Then Errol springs to his knees. "I see some sort of carving, I think. Part of it pokes up out of the water, but it seems like there's more under the surface. I need to dive in to check it out."
"Dive in?" I say, sounding anxious because I am. The river rushes around the boulder, so naturally, I'm afraid he might get swept away. And I don't feel like a wuss for feeling that way. "Are you sure that's necessary? Can't we use the ground-penetrating radar to look under the surface?"
"Not sure that would work. I know how to free dive, Ashley. Let me give it a go. Munro can always drag me out if I get caught in the current or stuck on an obstacle underwater."
"Well, if you're sure…"
"I am,gràidh." He points toward my feet. "But you are too close to the edge for my comfort. Take a few steps back, would you, love?"
"Sure." I back away from the edge. "Be careful, Errol."
He sheds his life jacket. "I've blown up corporate computer servers, remember? I can handle a wee dive in muddy water."
Before I can say anything else, he rises to his full height, raises his arms, and dives into the river.
He called me "love," and something else that I suspect is Gaelic. Was "gràidh" an endearment too? I haven't used any endearments when speaking to him, but mostly because I don't know how he might react to that. Men sometimes get weird about those things.
Errol has completely submerged himself, and I can't see him through the brown water. I know he's down there only because his rope floats on the water and disappears beneath the surface. I count the seconds until he emerges. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Still no Errol. I inch a teeny bit closer to the edge. Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.
"Shouldn't he have come out by now?" I ask Munro. "It's taking an awfully long time."
"He can hold his breath for a few minutes, at least."
"Minutes? How do you know that? I thought you guys hadn't seen each other in a long time."
"Aye, but I knew him before…I withdrew from the family." Munro keeps his gaze on the water where Errol had dived in, not even glancing sideways at me when I spoke. He gives the rope a light tug. "Ah, there. He tugged in response. That means the laddie is fine."
Laddie? Errol isn't a child. Munro's use of that word spurs me to ask a question. "Are you older than Errol? He told me he's thirty-seven."
