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Errol stops beside me and gives me a light shove. "Wake up, Ashley. Cannae catalog the artifacts while standing over here."
I blink rapidly, then look at Errol. "Guess I just can't believe we're actually here. We found the Grant Canyon treasure."
"Aye, we did." He claims my hand. "Because of you,gràidh. Your determination to harass me endlessly until I gave in, that's what got us here."
I let Errol guide me around the chamber and gaze at the treasures before us while in a state of shock. Sure, I'd spent so much time and money to get to this moment that I should be shrieking and jumping up and down. But the reality still hasn't sunk in, not completely. When Errol brushes dust and cobwebs off a lifesize statue of an Egyptian pharaoh, I think I stop breathing. I've seen statues like this one in museums. But to stand here gazing into the jewel eyes of a pharaoh's golden likeness… No words can describe how I feel right now.
Errol comes up behind me and grasps my shoulders, rotating me to the left. "Have a look. We've got more than pharaohs in this room."
He stretches out one finger to indicate a statue several yards away. Munro has just removed the grime from it with his shirt, which he stripped off, and normally I would enjoy the chance to admire a sexy man's chest. But my focus is locked on the statue.
"The Buddha," I murmur. "Wow. I've never seen anything like this, not in person. Pictures can't do justice to a piece this beautiful. It's a lot like the famous Golden Buddha, but this one seems bigger, at least from what photos show."
"I think it is bigger," Errol tells me. "But I've never seen the Golden Buddha either."
Right in front of the Buddha statue, I see a long table that holds much smaller artifacts, including a square bronze vessel that has a ram's head at each corner, a style I remember from reading about the ancient history of China. I can't resist moving toward the table so I can examine the jade suit laid out along its length, beside the bronze vessel. Nobles during the Han Dynasty sometimes opted to be buried in suits like this. I remember seeing pictures of one in a magazine ages ago.
I trail my fingers along the table's edge as I walk its length to study the many artifacts. Egyptian scarab amulets. A Hittite vessel shaped like a bull. A prehistoric stone figurine from the Arabian Peninsula. A Moche vessel shaped like a human head, from Peru. God, the variety of cultures displayed here truly boggles the mind, so much so that I feel a touch lightheaded. Kincaid was right. My dad was right. One vital question remains unanswered.
Who brought these treasures here? Why? And when?
Okay, that's three questions. But they're all related.
Errol wraps his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. "Hard to believe this is real, aye? Feels like a dream."
"Maybe you should pinch me just to make sure.
He kisses my neck, then pinches my nipple, making me gasp.
I twist my head around to raise my brows at him.
"You wanted me to pinch you," he says, while smirking. "Didn't specify where on your body."
"My mistake. I should be more careful with what I ask you to do." I glance around. "Where's Munro?"
"Donnae know." Errol steps away from me, cups his hands around his mouth, and shouts, "Munro! Where the bloody hell are ye?"
His cousin appears in the doorway. "I was having a look around in the other rooms. Might want to take a peek yourselves. This room is only the beginning."
Errol and I follow Munro, hand in hand, as he takes us to the next chamber. It lies about thirty feet past the one we just left, but on the opposite side of the passageway. Inside, we find even more treasures. So many, in fact, that cataloging them all might take months or even years. The smaller artifacts housed in this chamber represent a multitude of cultures and time periods, from prehistory through ancient Greece and Japan, and so much more.
But this room doesn't hold statues or jewelry. It stores written history.
I drop my backpack on the floor and get out a pair of white fabric gloves, pulling them on. Then I gently pick up a papyrus scroll and unroll it with great care. The scroll is Egyptian. The beautifully rendered hieroglyphs tell me as much, though I can't translate the words. The scroll also has illustrations of a pharaoh and his queen. I set down the scroll and take a look at a series of clay tablets that have what looks like chicken scratches on them, but I know this is the cuneiform script used by the people who lived in the ancient Middle East. I don't know much of the cuneiform script, only that several cultures employed it, including the Sumerians and the Akkadians. I pick up a tablet, strictly to appreciate the fact that I hold an ancient document in my hands. Then I carefully set it down.
"Ah, found something else," Munro shouts from across the room. "It's not an artifact, and I donnae know what to do with it."
Errol and I hustle over to the far corner, where Munro stands there staring down at the floor with a puzzled expression. I understand why when we come up beside Munro.
On the floor lies the skeleton of a human being.
The ragged remnants of clothing still cling to the bones, and the skull appears to have been caved in, as if by a powerful blow. Kincaid had mentioned in his letter that he was forced to kill Jordan in self-defense. Kincaid would've had a lot of trouble trying to transport Jordan's body out of the cave system inside this mountain, thanks to the submerged entrance. I assume it was submerged then too, but who knows. Either way, one of the men who found this ancient stash of artifacts died in this room.
Errol grabs a blanket from his backpack and drapes it over the remains. "Rest in peace, mate."
We remain in this spot for a few minutes, our heads bowed, each honoring the dead man in whatever way we choose. Even if Jordan tried to murder Kincaid, he was still a human being and deserving of a modicum of respect in death.
What happened to Kincaid? We might never know the answer to that question.
