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  Inside, four klieg lights illuminated Kline’s bodyguard Geoffrey Tate, looking as beaten-up and defeated as he ever had been. Time had passed for the man since Alex had restrained him, but he was unsure exactly how much. Hours, days or even weeks might have passed for Tate and he wouldn’t have known the difference. In reality, it had only been a few hours since Alex had left him to rot inside the locked metal mine.

  Tate heard the screeching metal door open and looked up into the glaring lights, “Hello?” he groaned.

  The Old Man gave a calm smile. Now was not the time to torture this poor young man. He had come for a reason, and he had no time to spare for distractions.

  “Who’s there?” Tate called out weakly. “I…help me, please.”

  The Old Man moved closer, revealing himself as a shadow to Tate.

  “Who… Who are you?” Tate croaked.

  “Just someone here to help,” the Old Man said cheerfully.

  He moved behind Tate and, with a quick move of his hands, untied him. Tate stood and turned around. The Old Man handed him a glass of water, which he drank gratefully.

  When he looked up again, the old man was gone.

  “Hello?” Tate called out again. He raised his hands and looked at them, rubbing his eyes and turning his head all around the room. Confused, he examined the glass the old man had given him. It was real. That proved…something, at least.

  He wasn’t crazy. He’d seen the old man for sure. So then what was going on?

  Tate stretched his legs, feeling his muscles complain. He then moved past the klieg lights, limping slightly to the steel door. Pushing it open, he found himself staring at a dozen men and women, all aiming flashlights and gun barrels at him. Red dots peppered his shirt and jacket. His gaze sank to the ground as he pondered his next move.

  He heard echoing voices snapping at him with authority, but he couldn’t make out their orders. Lifting his eyes, he saw the remains of the Kline’s drilling operation. The explosion had ripped the top off the mesa and devastated the entire area, lighting brush fires everywhere. A half dozen fire trucks were lining up on the road next to the mesa, with dozens of firemen and women running hoses out to try and douse the conflagration before it became uncontrollable.

  Tate looked behind him again, hoping to catch the Old Man lingering behind him. Seeing no one, he made a decision.

  He raised his hands peacefully, allowing the cops to grab him by the wrists and pat him down. There would be time later, he thought, to figure out what the hell he had just witnessed.

  Chapter Four

  As he walked down the trail, Professor Collier heard Kevin start the drill. He took a moment to look around and enjoy the scenery, then kept walking. He hoped that Rachel and Kevin’s dire assessment of their supplies was not as bad as they made it out to be.

  Over the course of his short walk to camp, the chatter of the jungle gradually replaced the echoing whine of the drill. Birds of every stripe and color squawked at the invading scientist, warning him to keep away from their territory.

  As he reached the camp and set down his pack, he looked to the canvas sheet sheltering their supplies, then quickly pulled it off. He opened each crate one by one, sighing each time.

  There was nearly nothing left. Rachel had looked serious when she’d told him their supplies were low, but he had no idea it had gotten this bad. He picked through the remainders, counted them up, and determined they had perhaps a day or two of rations left between the three of them.

  He looked over the quartermaster sheet and wondered where all the time had gone. Thanks to Rachel’s careful rationing, they had been able to stay in the area much longer than he had originally planned. The university had resupplied them after his follow-up presentation to the regents, but even that hadn’t lasted much longer than a week or two.

  Collier cursed and shook his head. He’d been so focused on trying to find the lost city that he’d neglected the essentials.

  He sat back and felt tears begin to sting the sides of his eyes. Squeezing the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, he forced himself to focus. He had to stop thinking about how this was his last chance, that if he failed out here, it meant he was doomed to die in obscurity. His sole claim to fame was a paper he had published shortly after graduating, which proposed using satellites and radar to search for new archeology sites.

  Collier hated the idea of being just another name on a university payroll sheet. He wanted to be out there discovering things, not teaching bored students about someone else’s discoveries.

  Empty handed after months of fruitless effort, he felt his old fear and depression returning. The familiar, hated voice inside his head reminded him constantly that he’d never gotten anything right his entire life, and that his expedition to Peru would fail, just as his rival Professor Porter had predicted.

  The voice also asked him when he was going to face the most depressing question of all.

  At what point would he give up his dream? When does one admit defeat?

  If his fiancée were there, she’d gently remind him to forget all that nonsense; any university would be extraordinarily lucky to have him teaching future bright minds, she would say.

  But she wasn’t there to tell him that.

  She was the light that guided his life. All that he had done, he’d done for her, to impress her and show that he was worthy of her. Their physical separation over the last nine months had been the worst kind of torture. He’d sworn many times over the last few weeks, when he went to bed alone at night, that he’d never let himself be apart from her again.

  And then, just like that, the pain of failing professionally lifted when he thought of her. The one good thing to come out of this, he thought, might as well be seeing her beautiful face smiling at him again.

  He swallowed the bile back and sighed. Perhaps it really was time to pack things up. Maybe he’d write a book regardless of what he found. At the very least he’d have something to spend his unemployment money on.

  Mentally, he ran through the process of packing up the crates. Would he let Rachel finish her supply run, or call her back sooner than that? And when would be the best time to tell Kevin?

  Kevin…

  The valley sounded strange. Something was missing.

  It was the drill; Kevin had stopped drilling. Knowing their luck, the generator had run out of gas – which would crush any hope he still had. Odd; he’d thought they’d topped off the gas tank when he left. Then again, by the looks of the supply sheet, he hadn’t exactly been paying attention lately.

  Suddenly, a loud crashing sound came roaring through the trees from the direction of the dig site. As the professor whirled toward the sound, he felt a rumble. The ground beneath him shook back and forth, just enough to knock his cup off a nearby table.

  Then everything was quiet again.

  “Kevin?” he called out, not that he expected Kevin to hear him at this distance. Whatever was wrong, he hoped Kevin would hurry back to camp.

  After a few minutes, it was clear that Kevin was not coming down from the hill. Collier grabbed the radio off his belt and clicked the mic open. “Kevin, you all right up there? I heard the drill turn off.”

  Nothing.

  Collier double-checked the channel. “Kevin, you there?”

  “Professor!” Kevin’s excited voice called back over the radio. “Professor, are you there? Over!”

  “I’m here.” Awash in depression, Collier found it difficult to get excited. “What’s going on up there? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine… I’m…” He sounded breathless. “You have to see this… You were right, Professor! Goddammit sir, you were right!”

  Professor Collier had no words. He felt the world completely focus in around him. Suddenly, everything that had led to this point in his life made sense. All the pain, all the work and every defeat had all been worth it.

  He dashed his way back up to the dig, letting the branches and brush tear at his clothing. W
ithout a thought for his personal safety, he jumped through the jungle until finally arriving at the dig.

  He found Kevin using a crowbar to chip around a huge crystal relief, which stood gleaming in the midday sunlight.

  “What…what the hell happened?” Collier asked, sweat shining off his brow, as he looked in awe at the pure white crystal in front of them.

  “I was drilling like you said, taking core samples of this boulder, when suddenly the whole side of the mountain became unstable. Next thing I knew, the whole thing was coming down and all that was left was this—”

  “Get the camera!” Collier barked as he stepped forward to examine the otherworldly object. His eyes went wide. This was it. He had done it! Whatever this crystal was, it was the first solid evidence for the lost city of Paititi! Where every other explorer over the years had failed, he had succeeded.

  Kevin ran for the covered table of equipment and grabbed the expensive-looking camera off the shelf, setting his laptop to one side. He opened the lens cap and began taking photos of the crystal door in front of them.

  Professor Collier didn’t understand why he did what he did next. By all logical reason, he should have taken precautions and documented everything before touching anything, but something drew him closer to the otherworldly object.

  In some way, he thought, it resembled a door.

  He stood and approached it, carefully reaching out his right hand toward it. His hand shimmered as it melted into the white surface. He cried out and withdrew his hand, examining it for any damage.

  Seeing none, he looked at Kevin, whose jaw was hanging open, looking incredulously back and forth between the professor and the wall.

  “Give me the camera,” Collier ordered. He took his hat off, put it under his arm, and began putting gloves on. Striding toward the table, he picked up a rope and tied it around his waist. “If I tug twice, haul me out as quick as you can, you got it?”

  “What are you doing?” Kevin asked, alarmed at the instructions. “You can’t seriously be thinking about…”

  “I think we’ve discovered something unlike anything humanity has ever seen,” Collier said with a distant look in his eye. “In fact, I think maybe we’ve I stumbled onto…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t dare say what he was thinking.

  Kevin turned back towards the table where his pack was sitting, “Professor, don’t you think you should…”

  Before Kevin say anything more, the professor pushed his way into the crystal, melting his way inside.

  “…take a flashlight?” Kevin said glumly, watching the rope feed into the crystal.

  Professor Collier could not hear him. He was moving in complete darkness, walking through what felt like thick brush. He suddenly found himself within a vast, dark chamber. The rope tugged on his waist. He ignored it, pulling more of it through the crystal with him.

  Reaching into his pocket, Collier felt for his lighter. He sparked the flint, and the click echoed through the empty room. As the light illuminated the chamber, Collier opened his eyes wide and gasped.

  He was inside a diamond. At least, that was what it looked like at first, but on second glance, he observed that it was more like a geode, sparkling and beautiful. He looked around inside the brilliant chamber, searching for clues as to who could have built it.

  The longer he looked around, however, the more uneasy he felt. The perfect symmetry of the crystalline structure, with its carefully laid out paths, reinforced an idea niggling at the back of his head. Whatever this place is, it wasn’t built by human hands.

  He began documenting his journey, taking photos from every angle. Each flash from the camera illuminated every corner of the chamber, each view seemingly more perfect than the last. He found himself giggling, delighting in his discovery. Using his camera’s flashes to help him navigate, he took photos from all possible angles.

  After taking what he felt were enough photos, he stopped to appreciate the beauty of the cavern. Holding the camera to the side, he felt for his lighter once again. Its tiny flame flooded the chamber, the crystal somehow amplifying the effect of the little light.

  “Well, that’s something else,” Professor Collier said softly.

  Suddenly, the room around him began to flash brilliantly of its own accord. He cried out and raised his hands in front of his face to block the light from blinding him. As he raised them, he accidentally lost his grip on the camera. It flew out of his hands, crashing into a dozen pieces on the other side of the room.

  An even brighter light flashed, heralding the arrival of a loud booming voice. As the professor cringed back, it spoke to him in a dozen languages at once.

  “What the hell?” the professor shouted. He fell to the ground, clapping his hands over his ears and hoping to keep the deafening sound from bursting his eardrums.

  Abruptly, the sound paused, then eased, the chorus of voices falling to something lower than a whisper. Professor Collier looked around wildly for the source of the noise.

  “Hello?” he called out tentatively. “Is there anyone else in here?”

  “Twelve Stones!” the cave cried out, loudly again. “Twelve Stones were laid upon your planet for the betterment of mankind.”

  Startled, the professor fell back to his knees dropping the lighter. He looked up and whispered in awe, “Who are you?”

  “We are the Patrons,” the chamber said, as if that explained everything.

  “The Patrons?” Professor Collier asked hesitantly. “This is a joke, right?”

  “This is no joke,” the chamber replied sharply.

  A pedestal rose up quickly from the center of the room. Collier whirled around and stared at it. “What’s that?”

  “The stones are a gift from our species to yours,” the cave replied, sounding bored.

  “A gift?” Collier was confused. “For what purpose? What’s the catch?”

  “Our species depends on yours to help us survive the cataclysm,” the crystal said as light pulsed with every word. “The beacons will allow you to aid our species and evolve your own into the future.”

  “Where are you from?” Collier quizzed. The cave remained silent.

  “Okay…” Collier muttered to himself. He glanced at the podium, which was still standing there waiting for him to approach. “What do you want me to do?”

  “You are to take the stone,” the chamber instructed, “and do with it as you will.”

  “That doesn’t really tell me a whole lot,” Professor Collier replied sarcastically.

  The chamber remained silent. Professor Collier decided to investigate the podium.

  He found it completely illuminated by a blinding white light. On top of the pedestal was a deep blue stone, long, thin and neatly curved in the shape of a claw. He stared at it in wonder, then looked up for any further instructions. When none came, he looked back down, hesitated, and then reached for the stone. As he touched it, the cave thundered out a warning.

  “The power you choose is what you must use.”

  Undeterred by the cryptic message, Collier swallowed, steeled his nerve and reached out to take the stone off the pedestal.

  The second he removed the stone, the lights within the chamber extinguished themselves, leaving him in darkness again.

  “Hello?” Collier cried out in fright. “Patrons?”

  No response. Whoever had been talking to him was gone.

  He was also completely blind. There was no light in the cave, and he had dropped his lighter. He cursed his stupidity for not getting at least some basic supplies before exploring the chamber, but the excitement of the discovery had been too much for him to handle.

  He placed the recovered artifact in his pocket. He hadn’t much of a chance to look at it before the lights went out, but he figured whatever the chamber had given him could stand a few minutes in his pocket.

  He turned and felt around blindly for anything that might resemble the door. He found himself wishing for the lighter he had dropped.

  It was
at that moment that the stone in his pocket flashed a brilliant red, its energy spreading all over his body. Collier extended his hand, looking at the red light emanating from his fingertips. His eyes went wide as a flame suddenly flickered from his index finger, weakly illuminating the cave around him.

  He waved it up and down frantically, hoping to extinguish what appeared to be fire before he was too badly burned, but it didn’t work. He screamed in frustration as he slapped the flame against his pants, hoping to smother it before he immolated himself.

  That was when he realized that no matter what he did, the flame would not go out. Stranger still, its heat was not actually burning him. He felt the heat of the flames dance around his body, but felt no pain at all. Catching his breath, he held up his fingertip and watched the flame flicker atop it.

  Even more intriguing, he thought, was that he instinctually knew he was conjuring the flame himself. Its crackle sounded almost like a voice to him, the voice of a willing servant awaiting his command. He imagined the flame hopping for him, back and forth across his fingertips like a cartoon character. To his delight, the flame did exactly that. He giggled again.

  A burning hot sensation rose along the side of his outer thigh. Looking down, he saw the stone glowing brightly, feeding the energy up through his body and exiting through his finger in the candlelight.

  He saw the flame spark in the darkness, felt the warmth all around him, smelled and tasted the smoke. He sensed power inside himself, real power, and knew that it could only have come from the stone. What the hell is this thing? he wondered.

  There was one thing he knew for sure: he liked it. The more he took in the sight of the flame and pondered his control over it, the sweeter his thoughts.

  And the more he wanted.

  Collier’s shoulders tensed as he strained to focus more deeply on the fire, willing it to become more powerful.

  Obey my will, he thought.

  A brief burst of flame exploded from his fingers and illuminated the chamber. Marveling at his accomplishment, Collier looked back down at his fingers, focused his will again and was rewarded with a huge column of flame, erupting up toward the ceiling and flooding the crystal chamber with light and heat. This time he found himself able to sustain the fire, keeping it ablaze for as long as he wished.