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far side of the rubble. He dropped to a knee and studied the twin set of scrape marks gouged in the floor that he had noted earlier. The centuries-old trail headed away from the chapel and toward the former entrance.
Maybe today’s thieves were not the only ones to steal something from here.
He straightened and returned his attention to the toppled section of the back wall of the chapel. He overturned loose bricks, examining each, a silent prayer on his lips.
“What’re you looking for?” Lena asked.
Before he could answer, his beam glinted off a piece of metal poking from under a stone. He flipped the brick over, sighing with relief.
“This,” he said, running his thumb over the name inscribed at the bottom of the metal plate bolted to the brick. It was the small grave marker that he had examined before.
Lena joined him, staring over his shoulder.
“Written here,” he explained, “might be some clue to solving these mysteries. Though the surface is heavily corroded, given time, I think I can—”
Another boom rocked through the cavern, echoing from a distance away. Roland grabbed Lena’s arm.
“What is it?” she asked.
Fearing the answer, he hurried with her down the tunnel to the main cavern. The beam of his light picked up a fresh wash of smoke and dust coming from the far passageway that led to the smaller cave and the surface.
“No . . .” Lena moaned, clearly understanding what this meant.
The thieves must not have been satisfied with merely blowing up the chapel. They also intended to seal up the entrance to this cavern, further masking their crime.
“What are we going to do?” Lena asked.
As he started to answer, a deep rumbling shook the floor underfoot. A large chandelier-like chunk of fragile helictites broke from the roof and shattered onto the stone, scattering snow-white pieces to the toes of his boot.
Lena clutched his elbow, waiting for the shaking to stop.
Roland remembered how a 5.2-magnitude earthquake had broken off a shoulder of the stone giant that was Klek Mountain and revealed this ancient cavern system at its heart. The sudden storm and the weight of all that flowing water must have put additional strain on the fault lines underlying the mountain, triggering an aftershock—or maybe even the concussions from the recent blasts contributed to the new quake.
Either way, they were in deep trouble.
He held his breath until the tremors finally faded and the ground stopped shaking.
“It’s all right,” Roland whispered, trying to reassure his companion as much as himself.
“Look!” Lena pointed toward the crack where the two of them had hidden earlier.
From the mouth of that crevice, water now gushed forth.
The quake must have altered the hydrology of the mountain, shifting the veins and arteries of the giant Klek, turning that storm surge toward this open pocket. From other smaller cracks and crevices, more water flowed.
Lena stared up at him, her face stricken, looking to him for some hope, some plan.
He had neither.
4
April 29, 1:38 P . M . CEST
Paris, France
The phone rang at a most inopportune moment.
Commander Gray Pierce stood naked before a steaming tub in the hotel bathroom. From the window of his suite, he could look out upon the majestic and historic tree-lined Champs-Élysées of Paris. Still, the view closer at hand was far superior.
From the mists of the lavender-scented water, a sleek leg hung over the lip of the tub. A layer of bubbles did little to mask the figure luxuriating within the bath. She was all long limbs and sweeping curves. As she shifted, a fall of damp hair, as black as a raven’s wing, fell away to reveal emerald-green eyes.
Irritation at the interruption shone there.
“You could ignore it,” she said, stretching that leg high, before lowering it slowly into the bubbles, stealing away the sight.
He was tempted to follow her suggestion, but the ringing did not rise from the hotel phone; it was from Gray’s cell on the